


Cards Reshuffled

by LaufeyOfThay



Series: Cards Trilogy [2]
Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 184
Words: 859,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25781542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaufeyOfThay/pseuds/LaufeyOfThay
Summary: This is the second part of the Cards Trilogy, now fully posted.  It will take Zaerini and her friends through the Shadows of Amn, as usual with plenty of twists and turns of my own in addition to the basic game. When we left off, Sarevok had finally been defeated and Edwin had just separated himself from the two people closest to him, for their own protection. Athkatla seemed like a good enough place to hide and be lonely and miserable, but soon enough his life will once again change...
Relationships: Female Charname/Edwin Odesseiron
Series: Cards Trilogy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777177
Comments: 18
Kudos: 36





	1. Awakenings

**Author's Note:**

> So it begins, and what better way to begin than with a lovely fanart! 'Rini and her Boys', by the very talented artastrophe.

_Feel my blood enraged  
It's just the fear of losing you  
Don't you know my name?  
You've been so long  
And I've been putting out the fire with gasoline  
See these eyes so red  
Red like jungle burning bright  
Those who feel me near  
Pull the blinds and change their minds_

_‘Cat People’, David Bowie_

_Blood on the snow  
Blood on the ashes  
I’m not ashamed of what I am  
Make it my own  
Make it my castle  
I’m not ashamed of what I am  
Honour calls  
Honour calls  
Casting away the final mists of doubt...  
When the wolves cry out_

_‘When the Wolves Cry Out’, Miracle of Sound_

**Cards Reshuffled 1 – Awakenings**

_You may think that it is bad enough to have a dangerous enemy hating you with a passion. But that is not the worst kind of enemy you can have. The worst kind of enemy is the one who feels no hate, has no passion to interfere with his thoughts and plans, and who is as devoid of malice as of mercy._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

His eyes were blue, that was what she remembered most clearly. Blue like the sky on a winter day. Cold. Remote. Emotionless. What was his face like? She couldn’t seem to remember; it was all a blur of disjointed images twisted up by the pain that ran like a trail of blood through all her memories. Young? Old? Ugly? Beautiful? Or all of it? Her mind felt…fractured. Like a broken mirror, badly glued together. But the eyes were there, throughout it all. Blue. Beautiful. Utterly terrible. 

Knives flashed through her mind, cutting her soul. That was worse than cutting the body, it felt like being torn apart from inside. Magic lashed and burned, whipped and seared. She couldn’t reach inside, couldn’t touch the source of her own power. It hurt too badly. 

_Blue eyes…so blue._

He…made her do things. No. Nonononono. She didn’t want to remember. It hurt too much. 

_I don’t want to remember any of it._

Why? He never explained, never threatened, never demanded. Only told her what he was going to do to her, and then did it. Always he spoke in that calm, reasonable voice. No anger, no triumph, no gloating. Just detached interest. He was observing her, every scream, every cry, every shade of bruising, and every spilt drop of blood. Observing, cataloguing, drawing conclusions. How much pain could she take? He seemed determined to find out. 

_How long has it been? I…can’t remember any more._

The cage she was in was small, far too small to rest comfortably. The iron bit into her back and her legs were cramped as she huddled on the bottom of it, shivering with cold. Then that voice again, that beautiful cold voice, and the chilling blue eyes in the immobile face. 

“So, the Child of Bhaal has awoken. It is time for more…experiments.” 

_Didn’t this happen before? Am I awake now, or dreaming still?_

Pain, more pain. Screaming, voice raw with pain. Screams like music. Lovely music. Then blackness. 

“Interesting. You have much untapped power.” 

The voice again, carefully measured, considering. More pain mind all hazy. Then explosions in the distance. More screams. 

_Was that me? It wasn’t, was it? But I’m not sure. Does it matter?_

The voice of Him, speaking, but not to her. The words were swirling, dancing, incomprehensible. Then he was gone, leaving only the memory of blue eyes behind. Her own eyes closed, she curled up in her cage, tears leaking out from beneath her eyelids. Finally, exhausted, she slept. Then, she dreamt. 

There was a tree, the largest tree she had ever seen, as large as a city, humming with life and power. Two people were standing beneath it, a man and a woman. The man had his back to her, but she could see the woman’s face, with slanted elven eyes and pointed ears partially covered by a mane of reddish-golden hair. She was regally dressed, proud and beautiful. Then she toppled and fell, cracking into a million pieces, and there was only emptiness inside. The man laughed, and there was something frighteningly familiar about that laughter. He started to turn…

A battle was raging around a castle, she could hear the screams of the dying, smell the stench of the dead. She hovered, invisible, in their midst. Snarling creatures rushed past her, there were flashes of green skin and sharp fangs. Then the battle was over, the monsters gone. But the castle was dark and ominous, and filled with danger. Who rules here? And who will rule? She was within now, standing inside a great stone hall, and a girl was before her, younger than herself, with red hair and a look of arrogant determination on her face. Then the girl spotted somebody behind the dreaming woman, and her entire face lit up with happiness and love, the haughtiness melting away. She reached out her hand and all of a sudden, her hair had turned a midnight black, and shadows danced in circles around her. Yet she was still smiling at the unseen person in the background. The dreaming woman turned around to try to see who it was…

A harp was playing, playing a beautiful melody, but it was sad, so sad as to make her heart bleed. It was a song of mourning. _Who has died? Who is grieving?_ There was a woman in the distance, standing at a fork in the road. Her golden-brown hair was blowing freely in the wind, her face was resolute, but her eyes were filled with unshed tears. _Jaheira?_ The name meant something, should mean something. The woman…Jaheira…turned and started walking down one of the dividing roads, and the dreamer knew that it was extremely important which one it was. She turned to follow…

There was a large tent, in brilliant colors, with flags flapping in the wind. Cheerful music was playing, and there was the smell of sweets. _A circus?_ There was the laughter of little children all around, and then the laughter turned to screams, the open door to the tent became a grinning maw. _Something…something is inside. Something evil._ She started walking towards the door, helpless to stop. As she was about to enter, she felt a hand on her shoulder and a low voice whispered into her ear. _I know that voice, don’t I? But who…_ “Beware. It is not what you think it is. Beware the one behind the mask. I should know…” She turned to see who was speaking to her…

A girl was standing in the midst of a heap of rubble, stone dust settling onto her pink hair, her face streaked with tears and dirt. She was shouting, screaming at somebody who was just out of sight. _Immy_ , the dreamer thought. _I remember…got to help Immy._ The girl…Imoen…raised her hand, and suddenly her eyes hardened. The dreamer didn’t know what was about to happen, but she knew it spelled disaster. _Immy! Don’t!_ Then she was running, running after Imoen who was rapidly disappearing down a dark and empty corridor. _Immy! Wait, I’m coming for you! I’m coming! IMMY!_ But she was being hunted even as she hunted, threatening footsteps coming closer and closer, almost upon her now, and she could run no further, couldn’t escape, couldn’t get out… Finally, the dreamer snarled, a feral sound of rage and hate, and as she turned, she could see the sharp claws growing from her fingertips…

A man was sitting in a room, alone and reading a book. His red robes were immediately familiar, and the dreamer felt herself suddenly swept by contradicting emotions. _He…it’s HIM! How…_ The wizard was looking tense and nervous, and he kept constantly starting at shadows. Suddenly, his dark eyes widened as there was a low hiss from inside the fireplace. A small cat, bright red, came strolling out of the flames, golden eyes glaring accusingly at the mage. Before he had the time to react, there was a low growl at the door, and the shadows solidified and came to life. A large black wolf stood there, teeth slightly bared, never taking his eyes off the wizard. Joy and fear warred for supremacy on the wizard’s face as he watched the two animals. “You came back…” he whispered. “I kept wishing for it…but it is too dangerous! They are hunting still.” And now there were footsteps outside the door, and somebody was tearing it open. As the wolf snarled and the cat bared her claws, the dreamer turned around to see who was coming…

“Wake up, you! Wake up! Come on, we have to get out of here!” Blue eyes, but not cold. Frantic, concerned, as familiar to her as were her own. The face that floated just before her own eyes was dirty and pale, and far too thin. _And that scar…where did that scar come from? She shouldn’t be scarred. It…it was He. He did that, I know it._ Pink hair, dirty and bedraggled. _Only person I know who’d dye it in that color._ The young woman in the cage groaned, swimming up towards full consciousness, aches and pains suddenly springing back in full focus in her mind. The name floated up of its own accord, brought back by the dream. 

“Im…Imoen?” Her voice sounded a little hoarse. _Screaming. It’s from all the screaming. No. Don’t think about that. Not now._

Imoen nodded nervously, fiddling with the lock on the cage. “No time to talk, Rini. Got to get you out before…before he comes back.” 

_Yes. That is my name. Zaerini. It is starting to come back. But…I was dreaming before she woke me up. It was important, I know it. I should try to remember_. It was no use. Only fragments of the dream remained, the rest had scattered before the pain, the cold, the hunger. But freedom was close, so close. Finally, the door opened, and she practically fell outside into Imoen’s waiting arms, her legs too unsteady and cramped to support her. 

“You’re so thin…” Imoen whispered. “And…and he hurt you.” She winced, like an animal expecting to get kicked. “Sometimes I would hear it…” 

“Immy…where are we? Who…how did this happen to us?” 

Imoen gave her friend a sympathetic hug. “He messed with your head too, huh? All I know is we were near Baldur's Gate and got jumped. You remember?”

_Shadows. The shadows… moved. They came alive. We fought, but they were too many. Too strong._ Zaerini raked her hand through her red hair, wincing at the grime she felt and at the clumps of dried blood. “Not much,” she said. “But…what about you? You…he hurt you too, didn’t he? And how did you get out? Weren’t you locked up too?” 

For a moment Imoen’s face went still, her mouth a little slack, her blue eyes unfocused. “I…I don't think I want to remember it all. He's been... doing things... to us. Rini, we have to get out of here! And…he’s done something to me…something is different, but I don’t know what. It’s like my bones made a little dagger, and it’s stabbing me. My head hurts…” 

“All right, all right…” Zaerini said, holding her friend close as she stroked the dirty pink hair. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. You’re right. We should get out of here.” 

Imoen nodded. “He’s…distracted. Under attack. There was fighting everywhere, people in dark clothes attacking…him. I think they were assassins. But it was they who died…there’s dead people everywhere.” Her eyes turned distant once again. “My cell got damaged. That’s how I was able to get out, and I found these lock picks…not very good ones, but enough. I had to get you out.” 

“Me…” Zaerini asked, dreading the answer she might get. “Are there…there were others traveling with us, weren’t there? Have you…have you seen them?” 

Imoen shook her head despondently. “I don’t know, Rini. I…please don’t ask me. They might still be alive…we should look for them. But we should go to the next room first, I think I saw some weapons in there.” 

The redhead nodded, looking around for the first time since she had left the cage. She was within a vast dungeon, with cold stonewalls, and a liberal amount of chains dangling from the roof. There was another cage, hanging from the ceiling like the one that had held her, but this one contained an ancient skeleton, with not a trace of flesh left on its bones. In the distance, she suddenly heard the sound of an explosion, and faint screams. “Yes,” she said. “Weapons sound like a good idea.” 

The two friends slowly walked towards the door they could spot nearby, their hearts beating furiously as they expected to be attacked at any moment. _I will not go back inside that cage_ , Rini thought. _Never. He’ll have to kill me first._

As they passed through the open doorway, she blinked as unfamiliar light stung eyes accustomed to darkness, and for a moment she stood motionless on the threshold. Then, something streaked through the air towards her, landing on her shoulder, and she screamed with utter terror as she tried to claw the monster away from her body. 

_Kitten, don’t! It’s only me!_ The voice within her head was frantic with concern, but filled with love as well, and it made the terrified half-elf stop in mid-motion. She was still breathing heavily as she turned her head, feeling soft fur brushing her cheek, and her own golden eyes looked into a pair of bright green ones in a black and furry face, inches away from her own. 

_Softpaws!_

Zaerini held her familiar closely, stroking the cat’s black fur, feeling the animal purring against her body. _Softy, I’m so glad you’re alive. If he’d hurt you…_

The cat squirmed a little in her grasp, then nudged her throat with a soft nose. _He never even knew I was here, kitten. I followed you here, but he never hurt me._

_But you’re so thin…are you sure you’re all right?_

_I don’t dare hunt too often_ , Softpaws explained, sounding a little pained. _I didn’t want to risk getting caught. And…I was afraid that if I stayed away too long you might be gone when I came back_. She hissed quietly. _He hurt you, and I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t even reach your thoughts, you were in too much pain most of the time, or else he was there, watching. I had to…I had to let him do…those things to you._

_Oh Softy. It wasn’t your fault. It’s not as if you could have fought him on your own. You’d have got killed, and that would have hurt me even more. Softy?_

_Yes, kitten?_

_If you were never captured…how did you get here? Did you see…the ones who attacked us? And…Him? What do you make of Him?_

The cat was silent for a moment. _I was sleeping inside your pack when they attacked. Somebody pulled it shut, I couldn’t get out. I never saw who it was that attacked, but…I smelled them. Cold smells. Like dead things, walking. They were hissing. Your things were brought here, and I with them. I gnawed out of the pack once all was quiet, and we were in this place. Nobody saw me, but I saw the Hungry One._

_The Hungry One…_

_Yes. The one who hurt you. He hungers for something; there is something he wants of you. Something he needs. He kept speaking of it, but he never said what it was. I’m sorry I can’t help more._

The half-elf smiled faintly and laid her cheek against the soft fur, saddened at how easily she could feel the ribs beneath. _You’re helping already, simply by being here. We’ll manage. Somehow, we will._

There was a small storage room to the side of the room with the cages. A golem waited there, and if it had been given more specific orders things would have gone very badly for the two girls and the cat. As it was, it had been told to guard the prisoners, but it had not been told to keep them from escaping, and it watched mutely as they helped themselves to what weapons they could find. There weren’t many to choose from, and they weren’t anything out of the ordinary, but Rini felt quite a bit better once she had acquired a sword. Not that it would do much good against Him, but it still helped. Imoen helped herself to a slim dagger, and then turned her attention to the painting hanging on the wall, behind which she found a small storage compartment. 

“Look, Rini!” the pink-haired thief said, for a moment sounding almost like her own self. “It’s your spellbook! And here are those ugly gold pantaloons you stole at the Friendly Arm, I thought you’d got rid of those ages ago. And…here’s your deck of cards!” 

The bard picked the cards up, weighing them in her hand, noticing that a couple of them had been stained with blood. _My blood. He…I remember. He made me do a reading for him, I didn’t want to, but he made me and…He didn’t like it. He didn’t understand much of it, I could tell, but he didn’t like it. What was it about? I…I can’t remember. He told me that I was lying, that I would get punished, and then he…_

“Rini?” Imoen was touching her arm, looking close to tears. “Did I…did I say something wrong?”

“No, no,” Zaerini said, shaking her head. “I just…remembered something. It was great of you to find these things.”

“I guess he sold our other stuff…at least I can’t see it anywhere. But I did find this.” Imoen held up a common iron key. “It doesn’t seem to fit anything here. I guess maybe we should go back, check the other room for more exits.” 

Zaerini didn’t exactly relish the thought of going back to the room with the terrible cages, but there didn’t seem to be much choice. “Yes,” she said. “Let’s go then.” 

Softpaws ran ahead, streaking along the ground like a black shadow. _You want to go fetch the others, kitten? I’ll show you, follow me._

_Others? What othe…_

But the cat didn’t answer, simply ran ahead, eager to finally be able to aid her mistress. She ran straight towards the far end of the room, and up to yet another of the awful cages, this one firmly planted on the ground, and there she stopped, pawing at the iron bars. Inside was a half-elven woman, as dirty and lean as the other prisoners, but somehow still managing to look proud and regal. Her green eyes flashed with sudden emotion as she saw Rini and Imoen approaching, and when she spoke her thickly accented Tethyran voice carried definite traces of relief with it. “Children!” she said. “I am so pleased to see you both free. I had feared that…but no. Quickly, we must get out of here before whoever did this returns.” She chuckled wryly. “I swear, traveling with you is never dull.”

Memories kept flashing through Zaerini’s mind, reality and dream intermingled. She knew this woman, had traveled with her for a long time. She knew her pride and competence, her stubbornness and eagerness to take command, but also her warm heart and her genuine desire to protect. “Jaheira?” _But in my dream she was sad…wasn’t she? She seems all right now, she’s been starved, but she’s not in pain, not like Immy. Then why did I dream that she was weeping?_ “Are you…are you well?”

The druid gave her a sharp look. “Apart from having been locked in this cage for Silvanus knows how long, with scarce provisions? Yes child, I am. But you, on the other hand…”

“Yes,” the bard interrupted. “I know. Look, I think we found the key to your cell. Just a moment.” _Keep talking. Don’t let her ask questions. I can’t bear to talk about Him, not now. Not yet._

Door unlocked, the druid stepped outside, looking seriously concerned. “Child, you were avoiding the issue.” 

_Damn._ “What issue?”

Jaheira put a comforting hand on the younger woman’s shoulder, her voice softening just a little bit. “He usually took you away when he was about to perform his…experiments.” She spat out the last word. “But sometimes I could hear you. I know not what he did, but I know you were hurt, body and soul.” She turned to Imoen. “And you as well, child. I only wish to help you, both of you.” 

Rini bowed her head, her red hair falling forward to cover her face like a curtain. It looked dirty, and uncombed. She’d always tried to look after it, even on the road. _Particularly when…when he was still around. He liked to watch it. He never said it outright, but I could tell. He wouldn’t like the look of me now though. I’m a complete scarecrow. And anyway…he walked out on me. He left. I remember that much._ “I know, Jaheira,” she said. “But I don’t remember much. And what I do remember…I can’t talk about it now. Let’s try to get out of here first, there’ll be plenty of time for talk later.” She suddenly thought of something. She’d hardly ever seen the druid without… “Where’s Khalid? Is he here as well?” She looked about for the half-elven warrior, her shy and gentle friend, Jaheira’s loving husband. 

Jaheria shook her face, and a shadow crept into her green eyes, like night falling in the forest. “I do not know where he is, and it worries me. No doubt he was taken as we were, though it seems we were all meant for different fates. I have not seen him since our capture, and the thought of him receiving the same treatment you did is…unbearable.” 

Imoen made a low sound, deep in her throat, like a soft whimper. “Maybe…maybe he’s close by? Maybe he’s…maybe he’s free too? I…didn’t see him. I didn’t see anything. Did I?” 

Jaheira shook her head. “Child, you are babbling,” she said in a kind voice. “Do not fret. We will find Khalid. I will not be separated from him for long. But there is another captive here, close by, over around that corner. I have heard him on occasion, and there can be no doubt. Minsc will require our aid.” 

_Minsc?_ The bard dredged through her memory. _Who is…oh. Minsc. Now I remember. The…one with the hamster. Oh, how annoyed he used to get with…no. Don’t think about him. He left. Good for him, I guess. At least he didn’t wind up stuck in a cage._

Imoen was already running towards the cage in the other part of the room, and a cheerful bellow could be heard from there, like that of a particularly happy moose. As Zaerini caught up with her friends, she found another cage, the largest one yet. Inside was a huge man, with a purple tattoo covering the larger parts of his face, and he was laughing happily. 

“Little Imoen! And little Zaerini too! And the tree lady! Minsc is so happy to see you all! With all the evil oozing from the walls in this place, it is good to see friendly faces, and friendly feet to aid with the kicking of Evil Butts!” 

Rini smiled, despite everything. She’d always liked the giant Rashemani berserker, with his simple but sometimes surprisingly deep mind, and his gentle heart. _The Witch though…never was that fond of her. Far too stuck-up. But…we…we needed a mage after…after he left. I didn’t care who, at that point. At least she knew what she was doing._

“Poor Minsc…” Imoen said, her face solemn. “We’ll find a way to get you out, don’t you worry.” 

Minsc nodded eagerly, a feverish glow lightening his eyes. “Yes! Freedom! Glorious freedom! My good friends will release me, and I will rain down blows like a hailstorm of Justice upon those who have dared imprison me, and…and…” His face fell, and suddenly he wailed, a terrible, heartfelt cry of pure pain. “DYNAHEIR! No! NO! She will be avenged!” 

“Dynaheir?” Rini said, unclasping her hands from her sensitive half-elven ears. She hoped the ringing would stop soon. 

Minsc nodded, tears rising into his eyes. “...They... they killed her as I watched, you see? I know not who they were, but...but I will redeem myself!”

More memories. Minsc…he had been Dynaheir’s protector, the Witch’s bodyguard. It was his sacred duty, and part of his passage to official manhood. If she was dead…it meant he had failed, effectively making himself an exile from his faraway homeland of Rasheman, forever. _Poor, poor Minsc. That has to hurt so much. Poor Dynaheir too, I guess…but her I never really got to know._

Imoen was crying too now, her little hands clenched on the bars of the cage. “Minsc, that is horrible! I am so sorry for you.”

Minsc sniffled a little. “I won't cry for the dead! I won't! Ok, maybe a little, but I will staunch the flow of tears with righteous fury! Lullaby and goodnight, evil! Minsc will make you pay!” A small and furious squeaking sounded, and a tiny and furry face became visible over his shoulder, black and round little eyes glittering dangerously. “And Boo too,” Minsc added, petting the tiny hamster. “Boo will worm his way cunningly into the Sinister Underpants of Evil, and then his sharp teeth will dispense Hamster Justice!” 

“Right…” Zaerini said, feeling a little dazed, a common sensation when conversing with Minsc. She also couldn’t help but notice that the lock to Minsc’s cage wasn’t just locked, it had been welded shut. “That’s a very…vivid image. Not that I object.” _How can we possibly get him out of there though? Unless…_ “Minsc,” she said. “Do you know what our captor keeps next door? It’s a tiny machine, with a very sharp blade, and a tiny little basket for heads to drop into. Little furry heads. I think he means it for Boo, but there were plenty of dead little hamsters lying about, so I guess he’s been practicing.” 

“RAAARRRRRGH!” This roar was even more terrible to hear, and as Minsc grasped the bars of his cage they creaked and shuddered, and finally bent. The warrior came striding out, his face twisted with fury. “The fiend! The slayer of hamsters! He shall pay, and Boo shall gobble his evil eyeballs down like peeled grapes! He shall maim! He shall crush! He shall…” 

“Whoa!” the half-elf interjected. “Minsc, it’s all right! I only made that up, I’m sorry I had to trick you. But at least it got you out, right?”

On Minsc’s face the fury gave way to puzzlement, and then to his usual good-natured smile. “Oh, little Rini is clever, very clever! I understand now! You said what you did just to get me mad! Mad enough to break free! You are as smart as Boo sometimes!”

Jaheira shuddered briefly. “Speaking of which, however did that rodent manage to elude our captor?”

Minsc put one finger to his nose in an expression of extreme cunning. “Don't ask questions better left to aged sages. Boo is quick and evasive and there is ever so much of Minsc to search, there is no hope of getting us apart.”

Imoen made a face. “Eww, I... really don't want to think about that too much.”

_I’m hungry_ , Softpaws said in a commanding voice. 

_No, Softy. I know what you’re going to say, but you can’t eat Boo. Not unless you want Minsc to make you into a pair of earmuffs._

_He wouldn’t have to know! I’d eat very quietly, in a secluded corner…_

_I said no! Besides, I have a feeling that hamster is pretty tough. He might wipe the floor with you. I’ll find you something to eat as soon as possible, I promise…_

_Oh, all right. Not the things in the jars though._

_What things in…no. I’m sure I don’t want to know. It’s probably disgusting anyway._

Zaerini smiled slightly. She had her familiar back, she had trusted friends with her. She had just learnt more than she’d ever wished to know about where one might hide a hamster. The pain and the bad memories were still there of course. But for the moment, she was able to put them aside. And for the moment, that would have to be enough. 


	2. Empty Flame, Empty Shadow

**Cards Reshuffled 2 – Empty Flame, Empty Shadow**

_Have you ever missed somebody so much that you keep seeing them everywhere, hearing their voice, and feeling their hand touching yours? You call out a greeting, but there is nobody there. You laugh, and expect a familiar voice to join in, but only silence answers. You turn, but the faces meeting you are all those of strangers, not the ones you want to see. You reach out, but you touch only emptiness. When you know what that is like, then you know the meaning of longing._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

The sky was getting darker, and the air was hot and stifling. It seemed to scream for rain, but so far there had been none. 

_Now, if this was Thay, the weather wizards would already have dealt with that annoyance_ ,Edwin Odesseiron thought, as he gave the heavens a disapproving look, one that would have told any passing storm or rain god that here was one much more capable of organizing the weather. _Of course, the deluded and barely cognizant barbarians of this stinking and pus-dripping sore of a city wouldn’t stoop so low as to use magic. Or not officially. Now, those Cowled Clods, they’re a different thing altogether of course. Yes, they’re perfectly ‘respectable’._

The Red Wizard was sitting in his private room in one of the rather less respectable establishments of Athkatla, the City of Coin. He had been attempting to study his spellbook, but the heat was annoying him. Not that he wasn’t used to this sort of thing of course, but it wasn’t the same. _I wouldn’t have to put up with these accommodations at home, and our magical cooling systems would eliminate the risk of accidentally injuring myself._ Edwin winced as he remembered his recent experimentation with an applied use for the ‘Cone of Cold’ spell. Only a minor, low-level version of the spell, but the frostbites had still been extremely painful, not to mention embarrassing. He was certain that priest at the Temple of Oghma had been sniggering behind his back. 

Edwin sighed, staring morosely out the window, his long fingers tapping nervously against the page of his book. For one moment, his imagination almost made him hear the familiar and sarcastic voice of his mentor, directly behind his back. _It does strike me as a rather poetic form of justice, boy. After all, you did your best to acquaint me with all sorts of interesting cold injuries, not to mention the fascinating experience of closely investigating what a yeti smells like._

His heart skipping a beat, Edwin twisted around in his chair, half expecting to see his friend and teacher look back at him, an amused glint in his black eyes. But of course, the room was empty apart from himself. The lengthening shadows were as empty as his hopes. No well-known face looked back at him from them. _Foolish_ , Edwin thought, his mouth twisting into a self-mocking smile. _He is far from here, very far. As…is she. I must deal with things as they are, not as I wish they would be._

And there were certainly many things that needed to be dealt with. Coming to Amn had seemed like a reasonable idea, at the time. What with Amn’s well-known fear and mistrust of magic, it would seem like the last place a Red Wizard declared renegade would want to hide, and so he had decided that it would serve admirably. What he hadn’t counted on was exactly how much inconvenience that fear and mistrust would be able to cause him. 

The only legal magecraft in Amn was performed by the elitist society of the Cowled Wizards, who regulated Amnian magic with an iron fist, and allowed no competition. True, a visiting wizard could always buy one of those ‘licenses to practice magic’, for an extortionist price. The drawback was that such a license, that needed to be carried at all times, also carried a tracking spell, allowing the Cowled Ones to keep track of any ‘possible threats’. Obviously, that was no alternative, even if he had had the funds to buy one. Which he had not, since an enterprising pickpocket had divested him of all his travel money on the first day after reaching Athkatla. 

Edwin had rapidly learnt that the City of Coin was not a good place to be if you lacked said yellow, hard and shiny things. Without a license, he would get hunted by the Cowled Wizards if he tried to practice magic, even for such an instinctual thing as defending himself against a mugger. Without money, he could not get a license. And without a way to use his magic, he would never acquire the money needed. Magic wasn’t merely what he did, it was what he was. He had no means of supporting himself without it, nor would he ever stand for it. _They have no right to deny me the use of my own wizardry. I will not be their trained monkey, performing only as those pompous, mediocre fools direct me. Magic is my life._

So, he had come up with an alternative means of employment. Since the road of official magic was closed to him, unofficial would serve. The Shadow Thieves had seemed like an excellent choice of employer. They were powerful, they were wealthy, and as long as he was useful to them, they would keep the Cowled Wizards off his back. He would earn back as much money as he needed, and then move on to more friendly ground before the Red Wizards were able to locate him. Yes, it had seemed like a reasonable plan. Until he met Mae’Var, of course. 

A fleeting shadow crossed the wizard’s face as he contemplated his new employer. He was perfectly at ease with working with Shadow Thieves. And he certainly was not in the slightest bothered by Mae’Var’s background as an assassin, before becoming a leader of this branch of the powerful organization. No, the problem was Mae’Var’s…hobby. 

_And to think I used to find father’s little fancies objectionable_ , Edwin thought, his dark eyes haunted as he recalled some of the things he had heard Mae’Var gloating about…and some of the things he personally had caught glimpses of. He had a feeling that those were only the barest hint of what Mae’Var was really capable of, and he certainly had no wish to learn more. The man savored the pain of others as if it was a fine wine, and Edwin had no wish whatsoever to be the savored one.

What he really wanted was to leave the sadistic Guild Master behind for good. Far behind. But at the moment, that seemed to be quite impossible. He had agreed to work for Mae’Var, and he knew that the rogue would hold him to it. Mae’Var would make him stay whether he really needed him or not, simply to make a point. And Edwin didn’t doubt for one second that the point would be one of a sharp blade, and that it would be made upon his own perfect body. 

_I could try to run. But without the funds I would not get far. The Shadow Thieves are one of the major powers of Amn, their agents are everywhere. They would find me. Or the Cowled Wizards would. Or…my old superiors. That they haven’t yet doesn’t mean that they aren’t still hunting. The Red Wizards never give up, and the Zulkir will not forget about my going against his orders._

Edwin got up from the table, walking nervously back and forth, face twisted into a silent snarl. He did make certain to close the shutters on the window before moving in front of it though. Another valuable childhood lesson. _Never pass before a lit candle or lamp if there is a window in front of you. To the assassin watching from outside, your silhouette will make a perfect target, even if he is a mere apprentice. If he is skilled, the candle won’t be necessary, even in darkness._

Edwin had found himself remembering all sorts of interesting scraps of knowledge like that during the lonely days and nights he had spent on the run. He had always been fascinated by his teacher’s other profession and had frequently pestered him for information. He’d never imagined that he’d be forced to face this sort of practical test of his knowledge, however. So far, the Cowled Wizards had made two attempts on his life, one of them magical, the other one not, both narrowly avoided. He might be an ally of the Shadow Thieves, but that did not mean the Cowled Ones intended to let him get away with defying them if they could catch him alone and unprotected. There was one in particular…one Rayic Gethras. _Very persistent, that man. The curse I put on his underwear was entertaining though. Very amusing, that Shrinking Charm. Almost worth it all._ And the Red Wizards would be tracking him, tracking him to punish him for his disobedience…and he was unable to leave this city, forced to stay cooped up in this sweltering Thieves’ Guild and wait for…what? Some terrible doom, probably. _Something is coming for me. Or…somebody?_

Edwin shook his head. Where had that thought come from? _No wonder I am getting paranoid, with all these enemies searching for me._

Arrows, crossbow bolts, darts and daggers. So many ways of killing a wizard who let his guard down even for a second. _And poison of course. Mustn’t forget poison._ And he didn’t. These days, he hardly dared to eat at all. Once he’d convinced himself that he had been poisoned, after waking up in the middle of the night with terrible stomach cramps, like a knife twisting around in his belly. As it turned out, he had merely been sick with worry, and had lived to suffer the embarrassment of having that explained to him by a kind cleric whose suggested treatment had been ‘to get a change of scenery in order to be able to relax better’. Edwin allowed himself a small and satisfied smirk as he remembered the cleric’s reaction to an impressive torrent of Thayvian curses. 

Once again, Edwin allowed himself the luxury of longing for his teacher’s presence. Vadrak Dekaras, Assassin of House Odesseiron and Edwin’s guardian since childhood would certainly know exactly what to do in this sort of situation. Edwin didn’t doubt that for one second. _Except, of course, he’s not available. And if he were here, he might well want to kill me himself. If only I could have explained why I did what I did…_

But that had not been an option, any more than it had been with the other significant person in his life, the other one he had purposefully driven away. 

Edwin sighed again and stared into the candle flame. It was hot, but the heat was bad enough that it didn’t make much difference. Gazing into the flickering fire, for a few seconds he thought he saw a pair of gleaming golden eyes, just a little bit larger and more slanted than those of a human. Eyes and hair like flame…

_What would she say if she were here now? Probably nothing particularly pleasant._ And as his active imagination started working again, the wizard could almost hear a musical voice speaking to him, could almost see golden eyes wide with hurt and anger. _You walked out on me, Eddie. You said you would stay; you swore to do so. And then you just sneaked off like that, not even having the decency to make it face to face. Just one lousy letter…didn’t you think I deserved more than that?_

For a second, he almost expected her to come striding out of the flame, her face animated with anger, as beautiful as ever. But the flame remained empty, as did the shadows. 

_I have to face the truth. They are not coming back, not ever. And that was how I arranged it. It all went according to plan. It…still hurts though._

No, he would have to be realistic. To get by, a day at a time, until he finally had what he needed to get away from here and go…somewhere else. He would still be alone, but at least his magic wouldn’t make him an outlaw. _Halruua would be interesting. I always wanted to learn some of those secrets. Except…I would have wanted to show my incredible prowess off to them. Either of them. But preferably both. Power would still be tantalizing, but it…isn’t the same. But I have no choice. They are lost, and I cannot find them._

Edwin suddenly stopped his pacing, distracted. He was still nervous, still tense, still frustrated and filled with longing. But…somehow…something had changed. He couldn’t say what, but he could sense it. 

Outside a wind started blowing, freshening the air. In the distance, the first faint rumblings of distant thunder could be heard over Athkatla, heralding change. Was it merely thunder though? For a second there, he had thought it sounded like explosions, though it was hard to tell for certain.

_Something is coming. Or somebody?_

The thoughts floated unbidden to the top of Edwin’s mind; he knew not where from. But he knew it was the truth all the same. _Yes. Soon, things will change. Hopefully for the better._


	3. Into the Labyrinth

**Cards Reshuffled 3 – Into the Labyrinth**

_Many people long for immortality. However, before accepting any such offer, you should be very careful about reading the contract through properly. Otherwise, there may be unpleasant side effects._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Zaerini stared at the thing in front of her, trying very hard not to throw up. _The moment I’ve decided nothing about our captor will surprise me anymore, he manages to outdo himself._

The dark tunnels and corridors never seemed to want to end, leading to ever more rooms, but with no trace of an exit so far. And the rooms and inhabitants were almost as strange and disturbing as their Lord and Master. 

As soon as they had left the room where she had awakened, she had had to jump across a veritable heap of dead bodies. Dead men in dark clothes, all of them with expressions of pain and surprise on their faces. The ones among them who still had faces, that was. It hadn’t been an encouraging way to start. 

Then there had been the annoying machine that kept trying to kill them with stinging lightning bolts. If her hair hadn’t been so dirty that it practically was glued to her skull, she didn’t doubt that it’d have been standing on end. The equally annoying creature that had bitten her shoulder before Jaheria’s quarterstaff swept if off and made it splatter against a wall had instantly earned a place on her private list of ‘Faerun’s Most Irritating Monsters’, right below kobolds armed with fire arrows. Mephit, Jaheira had called it. _Misfit, more likely._

After that, there had been a change of scenery, as the artificial rooms gave way to a natural cave, where enormous red crystals hung from the ceiling and grow from the ground, twisted into forms both beautiful and terrible. In a small pool, silver light swirled like mist. It had almost seemed like a peaceful place at first. Right up until the genie poofed into existence next to the pool and insisted on asking her strange questions. The fact that he had seemed to know of her did nothing to reassure her. _Your name is well known amongst those who watch. Your life's thread is bright indeed, though in your path lies many a dark and frayed end._ She didn’t like the sound of that. No, not at all. He claimed that he wanted to know more of her, that her destiny was shrouded in darkness, unknown to him. He claimed that he would offer information in return for the answer to a single question. And she did need information. But the question had been strange, not at all what she had expected.

_You and your sibling are captured and locked in separate cells, unable to communicate. The mage responsible appears and speaks. He explains his sadistic game: In each cell there is a magical button. If you press your button and your sibling does not, you will die but your sibling is free. If your sibling presses the button and you do not, they will die but you will go free. If neither you nor your sibling press the buttons, both of you will die. If both of you press your respective buttons, both of you will die. The Mage says that you have one turn of the hourglass to decide your action, then he leaves. Tell me, Zaerini, do you press the button?_

A curious question it had been indeed, and she couldn’t help feeling that there was some hidden meaning to it. It reminded her altogether too much of the twisted games of her captor. _I am told that I have many siblings_ , she had said. _It would depend on which one it was. But there is one as close to me as any sibling._ She had squeezed Imoen’s hand. _For my best friend, I would press the button._

The genie had seemed both amused and interested. But the information he had offered in return had been aggravatingly cryptic. _Know that more of my kindred await you, and two more you will face soon. The first holds something you need, something close to your heart. You must seek him out. The second aids one who would destroy you, and those dear to you. The worm in the apple, the canker in the rose, that one will not be turned aside…not by you. The outcome is still uncertain._ The genie had grinned in a smugly superior way. _There is the mask, and the face beneath. Which will you see? Which will it be?_ Then he had offered one final tidbit. _Oh, and seek out Rielev. He waits for one such as you…_

Then, she had come across the room with the jars. _Don’t want to think about it, don’t want to think about it…_ Floating things in great glass jars, things that once been people, as Imoen had put it. _Immy…what did the bastard do to her? What did he do to me? We have both been in that room, she said. But I can’t remember. There’s so much I can’t remember still._

And now, she had found Rielev, or so she thought. Or rather, what had used to be Rielev. This room was small and dark, with storage cupboards and shelves along the walls, and a table with a few assorted odds and ends. The jar stood in one corner, but this one wasn’t dark like the ones she had found before. It was glowing from within, glowing with a sickly green light, and she could see the being within, drifting, spinning slowly. Like a child in its mother’s womb, but a tormented child in a womb of poison. Once again, Rini had to fight the bile that was rising in her throat. 

Rielev had been an elf. One pointed ear remained to tell her so, the other was long gone. A terrible wound had opened his stomach from side to side, and…things…spilled out of the wound, drifting around him like sea weeds. There was no blood, that she could see. Just the quietly bubbling green fluid. The face was undamaged. Well, the right half of it was. The left half…wasn’t. Not just wasn’t undamaged. The left half. Wasn’t. There. But the terrible thing, the really terrible thing, was that he was still alive. Now and then he would twitch slightly, or moan with pain, releasing a stream of tiny bubbles through the ruin of what had once been a beautiful mouth. 

_To live…like that…death would be preferable. Why? Why would anybody want to do a thing like that to somebody?_

Behind her she could hear Imoen moaning quietly, Jaheira suppressing an oath, Minsc muttering about Jars of Evil. _Does it get any worse than this?_

Then, of course, it did. The one remaining eye snapped open, staring wildly at the adventurers. And then a voice screamed inside Zaerini’s head, a tormented, shrill, somehow tinny voice. _Aaaaaa... who be thee... servants of the master?_

“No,” she said, staring with horror at the elf. Not living…yet not fully dead. And suffering, suffering terribly. “I don’t serve that…that monster. Do you? Who is he, that he could do a thing like this? That he would do a thing like this?” 

The glassy eye turned towards her. _He was my friend, I think... cast out, and one of us no longer... I cannot remember... are you to take my place? She…she punished him…punished him as none had been punished before. I was his friend, Rielev, that was my name once…I tried to…to aid him…I was struck down. I would have perished but he…his magic saved me. He promised to save me. He promised…_ Crazed despair was evident in the voice now. _He promised…but he has forgotten. He cannot bear to remember, because it reminds him of what was taken away._

The half-elf swallowed heavily. _One who could leave a friend in this state…it is no wonder he was capable of doing those…those things to me._ “I would help you…but I cannot restore you to what you were. Since I cannot give you your life back…would you like for me to give you a true death?”

_Yes!_ Rielev screamed. _Yes! Master! I no longer wish to come back! Release me! Please! Release meeeeeeee!_

It took a few minutes to calm the suffering creature down, but then Rini was able to make him explain that there were crystals powering his jar, and that without them it would shut down, granting him the release he craved. He also advised her to use those crystals with the inhabitants of the other jars, and to speak with them to learn of how the ‘Master’ would come and go from this place. It was a hope for freedom, a slim one, but hope, nevertheless. 

“I am sorry I could do no more for you,” the redhead eventually said, reaching down to pull out the crystals. “I hope you find peace.” 

Rielev’s voice was a fading whisper inside her mind. _I thank thee... go and leave me to oblivion at last. Sweet sleep..._ Then he fell silent, and the jar went dark as the crystals were removed, mercifully hiding his twisted form. 

Zaerini turned towards her friends and was alarmed to see Imoen reach out and touch the jar, her eyes filled with a strange longing. “He’s dead now?” the thief asked, and she sounded almost…eager? “This pathetic creature...” She stared into the jar, as if searching for some deep truth. “I…can’t look away, Rini. I can’t look away anymore. Sure…I’ve seen people die before. But…it feels different now. Something has changed…and it scares me.” 

The bard was at an utter loss about what to do, and it frightened her immensely. Whatever their captor had done to Imoen, it had affected her on some very basic level, and it seemed to be more than fear, or pain, or anger. _Whatever he did…he will regret it, if I ever get the chance._ But right now, she had to try to help her friend. “I suppose…death isn’t always something to be feared,” she said, carefully putting her arm around her friend’s shoulder to draw her into a hug. “I mean…I wouldn’t want to live like that.” A memory suddenly flashed through her mind, as clear as if it had been yesterday. There had been blood…so much blood. _I was surprised that he was even able to speak, I remember that. But he did. And he got his wish._ “Remember that wizard we met…back in Baldur’s Gate? The one we found dying, right before we caught up with Sarevok?” _Winski, that was his name. I remember now._ “To him, then, death was a mercy he wished for. Same thing here.” 

Imoen shuddered in her friend’s grasp, her arms clinging tightly around the half-elf’s waist. “Death is…pretty. So pretty…” Then she was shaking again. “What am I saying? Why am I saying these things? What’s happening to me?” 

_What did the bastard do to her?_ “You’ll make it, Immy,” Zaerini murmured into the pink hair. “You can. And I’ll do whatever I can to help you, you know that. It’ll be all right. We’ll just have to get out of this place, then you’ll feel better, I know that.” 

Imoen nodded, hesitantly. “At least we’re together again…being alone was…it hurt.” 

“And we’re sticking together,” the half-elf stated, giving her friend a crooked grin. “Best friends and sisters, always.” 

Imoen smiled, faintly, but still with a hint of her old self shining through. “Yeah…always.” 

Rini pocketed an oddly shaped stone she found on the table. She had no idea what it was for, but she was of the considered opinion that strange items with no obvious purpose should always be closely investigated. _Particularly when adventuring. I remember…he always said the gods enjoyed playing jokes on adventurers by making them cart around enormous amounts of trash, in the hopes that some of it might turn out to be magical or otherwise useful._ She shook her head determinedly. _I shouldn’t think about him. He’s gone. I won’t ever see him again. And I don’t care if I ever do. I’ll be lucky to even get out of this place alive._

She knew that was true. So why then, did she practically hear a heartbreakingly familiar accented voice whisper into her ear? _Hellkitten, if you do not stir yourself from these undeniably fascinating musings on my many aspects of perfection and male desirability, you not only will not get out alive, but it will be because of you dying from old age. One foot in front of the other now, it really isn’t that complicated, even a barbarian westerner should be able to comprehend the process._

_Thanks a lot, Eddie. You’re marvelously supportive, did you know that?_

_You will live._

_Yes. I will._

Her mouth set in a determined line, the bard walked away from the room, not looking at Rielev’s sad remains again. 

_You know_ , Softpaws said, _considering that you claim not to care about the wizard anymore, you certainly think about him a lot._

_I’m angry with him. That’s it. Nothing else. If he wants to run out on me, then fine. I don’t care. Not one bit._

_Funny. I seem to recall plenty of tears, for somebody not caring._

_And right now we’d better move on or there will be tears when Mr Mask catches us._

“Where to now?” Jaheira asked. 

“It is simple!” Minsc suggested. “We must slaughter all evil within this dark hole, the bad wizard most of all. Let us bury him deeply and dance on the grave with iron-plated booties! And two pairs of hamster-sized ones for Boo.” 

“Perhaps a little later,” Rini said. “But right now, I think we should go talk to some more people in jars…”

Zaerini hadn’t exactly expected a bunch of partly mutilated creatures in jars to be brilliant conversationalists, but she was rather disappointed that they had turned out to be completely insane, unable to even comprehend that she wasn’t ‘the Master’. Not that she blamed them. _If I’d been shut in one of those things for who knows how long, I’d probably be pretty much insane as well._

Some of the creatures had looked human, some elven. There was one enormous rotting beast that she thought just might be a Beholder, and she was not about to try to revive that one. She hadn’t learnt much. Just incoherent ramblings about ‘The Master’, ‘The Mistress’, a bedroom, and a djinn. She had made certain not to leave any of the tormented beings alive and suffering, and her bare feet were still drenched with green fluid from the broken jars. _What kind of monster would do such things to friends and servants? And why? He…he treats them like garbage. Waste matter, to be discarded._

Not being able to comprehend the reasons for her captor’s actions made them even more frightening. _When I was captured that other time…when Reiltar…did what he did…I at least knew why. He wanted me to suffer. He got pleasure from that. But this one…is not that simple. He causes suffering, but I don’t think that’s a goal in itself, only a means to an end. But what is that end? He hurt me, he hurt Immy. Jaheira and Minsc are mostly unharmed. Dynaheir dead. Khalid…missing. Is there a system to the madness, I wonder? If I could understand…it might help._

_Watch your feet, kitten!_ Softpaws warned from ahead. _You must concentrate in this place._

The half-elf nodded mutely. She had already learnt that just about anything might wait around the next corner. The odd stone they had found in Rielev’s chamber had served to make yet another golem open up a door leading deeper into the dark complex, but so far that hadn’t been much of an improvement as far as surroundings went. The library they had come across had seemed promising, dark and musty as it was, but there had been monsters lurking in there as well. A swarm of screeching goblins, and yet another one of those bloody annoying mephitis. _Good thing I found my spellbook…and happened to memorize a Fireball or two when we rested earlier._ She would never have thought she could take such pleasure in the smell of roasted goblin. 

“Child?” Jaheira asked, turning around with a worried look in her green eyes. “How are you doing?” 

The bard made herself give a weak smile in return. “I’ll manage. It’s Immy I’m really worried about.” She walked closer to the druid, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I…can’t remember everything that happened to me, but I know it was bad. Really bad. But Immy…whatever he did to her changed her somehow. She’s still herself beneath the pain, but now there’s something else as well, and I don’t know what. I don’t think she does either. Help me keep an eye on her, would you? She’s trying to be brave, but I’m not sure how long she’ll manage.” 

Jaheira gave her a strange look. “I shall attempt to do that. For both of you.” 

_What’s she talking about? It’s Immy who’s in trouble. I’m…hurting…but I’ve been hurt before. Immy hasn’t. She should never have had to go through something like this! She wouldn’t have. Not if it wasn’t for me._

“Child?” Jaheira asked, a sharp edge to her voice. “Are you certain you do not need to rest again?”

“No…we have to go on. Don’t dare…” Zaerini paused. “Phew! What is that awful smell? Smells like…crap.” 

And so it was. The tunnel opened up into what could only be described as a dung heap. A large, rounded room, with a door on the other end. The problem was that between that door and the one the adventurers had entered through, lay an enormous pile of garbage. Some of it was items, broken boxes, discarded weapons and the like. The great amount was organic. Not only that, but it was the sort of organic matter that has just passed through the digestive systems of various slimy dungeon dwellers. 

Imoen paled beneath her dirty pink hair. “Rini…do we have to?”

Zaerini was licking her lips in an attempt to keep her stomach under control. “I…think so. We do need to check out that door on the other side. Though I really wish there was a spell for shutting my nose off…” 

Minsc shook his head. “Boo does not like this,” he said, petting the hamster that was currently trying to cover its nose with its tiny paws. “He says there is the stench of Evil about.” 

Rini gave the large ranger an incredulous look. “How can he tell? I think my nose has been permanently stunned. That would have to be something really evil…”

Jaheira was clutching her hand over her nose in a gesture strangely reminiscent of Boo’s. “Natural matter,” she was murmuring. “Perfectly natural…all part of the great circle of…mnnnfff…” 

Walking through the squicky substance turned out to be just about as joyful an experience as Rini had expected. Her partial elven heritage gave her a certain natural grace that helped her walk relatively lightly, but she still kept sinking down to her ankles now and then, and Imoen and Jaheira weren’t better off. As for Minsc, he was down to his thighs, and the rusty old armor he had found earlier didn’t really help. He still seemed more cheerful than any of the others though. “Not far now, friends!” he called out. “The door is close, and then on to freedom and vengeance!” Boo squeaked in agreement. 

_I wish things will be that easy_ , Rini thought. She was trying to keep up a façade, even making jokes now and then, but that was for Imoen’s sake. She had to reassure her friend if she could. She couldn’t bear to see that quiet despair in Imoen’s blue eyes. And then, just as she contemplated what she’d like to do to the person who was responsible for that despair, something grasped her ankle from inside the much. Something thick, and strong, and slimy. Something that felt very much like a tentacle. “Uh-Oh…” she just had time to say. And then she was yanked screaming through the air, towards a nightmare taken on flesh. 

The large creature rose from the dung like a twisted flower, roaring and spitting. It had a massive gray body, smeared with dung, and its three stumpy legs allowed it to move surprisingly quickly. Long tentacles waved about the bloated body, grasping for more victims, as Rini found herself dangling upside-down, unpleasantly close to a large mouth in the center of the writhing mass, a mouth lined with very sharp teeth. One of the tentacles held three large eyes, and one of them almost seemed to wink at her. 

Then, the creature seemed to think better of eating her directly, and slammed her into the wall instead, probably intent on softening up the meal a little. She felt all the air leave her lungs in a painful whoosh, and she would have screamed with pain, if only her lungs had currently been capable of screaming. 

Vaguely, she was aware of Minsc roaring with rage as he charged the creature, and then Boo’s warning squeak as the monster swung her through the air, directly in the path of the swinging sword. _AAAARRRRGHHH!_ The sword whistled through the air, just barely managing not to hit her neck, but she did feel a sudden coldness as it sheared part of her tangled red locks off. _All right, so I did need a haircut after an indeterminate time of imprisonment and torture. But not like this! Now what’s it…nooooo!_

Jaheira, who was nimbler than Minsc, was nevertheless taken by surprise when the monster swung around and aimed the caught bard in her direction. The druid cursed loudly as she fell backwards into the muck, helpless before the raging beast, and as for Zaerini, she was barely conscious enough to register the pain of Jaheira’s quarterstaff accidentally giving her a sound whack across the back. And then there was a female scream of rage, and Imoen rose from the heaps of filth like a deva on the warpath, if you can imagine a massively dirty deva with pink hair. Her eyes were blazing with blue fire, and as she raised her hand, angry red bolts of energy shot forth from it, striking the three eyes of the monster with a violent hiss. 

The monster roared with pain, raising its tentacles towards its ruined eyes, and that gave Minsc the opportunity he needed to ram his sword directly into its heart. The creature fell, exhaling stinking air from both ends, and then was still. As it fell, it dropped its victim, and so it was that Rini found herself alive, and face down in waste. 

_Kitten?_ Softpaws asked. _Are you awake?_

_Yes. And I really wish I wasn’t. Can you please get me out of here? I think my legs are still sticking out…_

Once finally extricated from the dung, Zaerini made an attempt to wipe her face off, succeeding only in smearing the dirt around more. She gave the dead monster – an Otyugh, Jaheira had named it – a dark look. “Jaheria?” she plaintively asked. “You don’t happen to know any ‘Instant Bath’ spells, do you?” 

The druid shook her head, trying and not succeeding in suppressing a smile. “I am afraid not, child.”

“Figures. Well, it can’t be helped. I just hope I don’t catch some terrible disease.” _And right now I guess I’m really glad that he isn’t here. I would hate for him to see me like this. Not that I care as such. But he ran out on me, and if I should happen to see him again, I’d want to look positively devastating, so he’d really know what he threw away. It’s hard to look devastating with monster crap all over you._ Then she remembered something. “Immy? What was that you did just now? It looked like a Magic Missile spell, but it couldn’t have been, could it? You’re not trained to do magic.” 

Imoen was looking at her hand as if she’d never seen it before. “I…I don’t know,” she said, her voice hesitant. “I don’t know any magic…I don’t even have a spellbook. But…I got so angry, and it was as if a window opened inside my head. I just knew how to do it.” 

“Well, however you did it, you saved my life. Thanks, sis.” 

Imoen returned the half-elf’s smile, looking more like herself than Rini had seen her since waking up. “Any time, sis. Now, what say we get out of here? My nostrils are screaming for mercy…” 

A short while later, the adventurers passed through another dark corridor, into what was in a way the most frightening room they had seen so far. It was a beautiful bedroom, with an elegant bed standing by one wall, its curling design radiating an alien beauty. Pale green silk sheets covered it, pristine and spotless. Polished bookcases in mahogany held many tomes and scrolls, as did the small reading table, where a bowl of fruit was standing. Above the fireplace a mirror hung, reflecting the image of four tired and dirty faces that really clashed against the timeless loveliness of the room. _This is his room_ , Zaerini thought, knowing that it was the truth without knowing how she knew. _His bedroom. Have I been in here before? I don’t know. I can’t remember. I don’t think I want to remember. And Immy…what if he…_

Imoen was walking the deep blue carpet as if in a daze, watching the floor. “Traps,” she said. “He keeps traps even here, in his own place.” She disarmed them one by one, still looking at the floor. “Even when you’re in bad pain, you mustn’t forget to check for traps, Imoen. You must not lose focus. Remember that…” Her voice sounded distant as if she was reciting something she had been told. “There are ways…tricks. You must be good enough that you can spot them without thinking about it, even should there be fighting going on around.” Her fingers nimbly inserted a slim metal tool in an almost invisible crack in the floor, and then twisted around until there was an audible click. Her face still held that distant, sweet expression, as if she was listening to something only she could hear. “Focus. That is the key. No external distractions. You have the aptitude. You only need practice…then you will do well.” She blinked and looked at her friends. “Something wrong?” 

“No child,” Jaheria hastily said. “Nothing.” 

The room held a few useful items. The Helm of Balduran, found in Baldur’s Gate what seemed like ages ago. A few spell scrolls, and an odd little statue. Zaerini remained quiet as they plundered the place, thinking about her best friend. _For what he’s done to Immy, he will pay. I may not be able to kill him yet…but there must be something._ And then she had an idea. “Guys,” she said, wiping her hands and face on the bedclothes as best she could. “Our captor must be one big fruitcake, don’t you think? Having his bedroom lead directly into the midden heap like this. But it does present an interesting opportunity…” 

Not long after, the bedroom was a stinking ruin. Not only had the furniture been smashed up and the carpet and bedclothes slashed to pieces. The walls were liberally smeared with waste from the next room, creating an awful stench. And in the ruined bed, its severed head resting peacefully on the previously green pillows, lay the Otyugh. “Take that, you bastard,” Zaerini muttered. “It’s only a pity I couldn’t stick that thing in there while you were still asleep. But at least this should help you get the message. I will be coming for you. One day, when you least expect it. I will. And I will never let you treat me like garbage again.”

For one, agonizingly brief moment, Zaerini thought that she was actually free of the dark and nightmarish maze she had awakened to. The southern door from the now devastated bedroom led into an open place, and the first things she saw were the trees. For a moment, she believed herself free, and she was already prepared to whoop with joy. But the smile died on her lips. These trees were weak and fading, and they grew in a cave. A large cave to be sure, with soft moss on the floor, but a cave all the same. No sunlight here, only a dim illumination that had to be magical. 

“Strange…” Jaheira said. “This place is very different from what we have seen so far in this place. Our captor has not struck me as one to venerate nature or growing things, quite the opposite.” 

Rini didn’t answer. She was too busy staring at the three women who were approaching, their faces tense and guarded. They were all different, but all three were beautiful. One had dark brown hair, and fair skin with just a hint of leafy green. The second was golden blonde, and her skin a warm bronze. The third and last had dark green hair that reached her waist, and her body was the pale green of a new sapling. Their faces were flawless, according to mortal standards, but all of them looked sad and wary. They also wore no clothes whatsoever and seemed perfectly relaxed about that. “Dryads…” the half-elf whispered. “What are dryads doing in this place?”

_Those tree-females?_ Softpaws asked. _I never hunted this far for fear of leaving you too far behind, but I heard the Hungry One mentioning them to you once._

_What…did he say?_

_That he had meant for them to help him, but it hadn’t worked. Now he wouldn’t need them anymore, now that he had you._

Zaerini closed her eyes for a moment, trying to remember. The memory of cold blue eyes piercing her soul like icicles floated back. And the voice…the calm, merciless voice. _Once, I might have tried to use you in another manner, to rekindle the flame. To regain what was lost. But I know better now. The women of the grove taught me that what was lost is lost forever. But now…you will help me. Not to regain, but to replace. Soon. Once you have been properly prepared. Soon, you will understand exactly how I value you. But for now, there are experiments to conduct. Today, we will determine your sensitivity to cold…_

The bard shivered, not just with fear, but with the memory that assaulted her. Cold spells had ravaged her, again and again, until she was huddling in a helpless ball in her cage, unable to stand, with her tears freezing instantly the moment they left her eyes. When he had finally let her be, they had formed a frozen mask around her face. He had peeled it off, tearing skin along with it, but she had been too weak to even cry out… _A mask_ , he had said, the blue eyes considering behind the one he himself wore. _How fitting. Infused with blood, now. And once the mask is really gone, and you are as you ought to be…that is when we will begin in earnest._ And he had shattered the icy face against the floor. 

_Why…why am I not scarred? Or am I? Oh gods, what if I am? What if I’m hideous? What if he’s…_

_Kitten, NO!_ Softpaws mental presence nudged against her, scolding but protective. _You look as you always have, I promise. He healed the wounds on your face. Most of the ones on your body too, I think. He wanted to keep you as you were._

_I’m sorry, Softy. I didn’t mean to freak out._

The cat rubbed against her leg, purring quietly. _You did not. You are doing very well. Now, tail up. You need to talk to those females._

“Strangers?” one of the dryads, the green-haired one spoke. “Please, help us!” Her voice was like the whisper of leaves, and like birdsong. 

“We beg you, free us!” the dark one added. 

“Please…” the third one whispered, her voice weak. “Our trees are weakening, and so are our spirits in this foul place.”

Minsc slammed his giant fist into the palm of his other hand. “The Evil One keeps the kind spirits of the forest locked behind stone walls? Such crimes must not go unpunished! We must make certain they get the chance to sink their roots deep into his rotten heart!” 

Jaheira was looking equally outraged, but as she approached the dryads, her voice was calm. “Tell us how we may help you, dryads. How did you come to be here?” 

The dryads exchanged glances, clearly unwilling to say too much. “He has taken our trees,” the green-haired leader eventually said. “He stole them and put them here, and we cannot leave them, or we will die.”

“Then how can we help you?” Zaerini asked. 

“If you could find our acorns, our trees could be replanted, and we would be safe. But he has taken them and hidden them somewhere in this place.” The dryad put her head to one side. “If you help us, we will help you. We know how you may leave this place, and if you find our acorns, we will tell you.” 

Rini sighed. _Right. Finding some acorns that could be hidden anywhere in a vast labyrinth crawling with dangerous monsters. Piece of cake. I shouldn’t even have to break a sweat._ “Do you have any idea where to look? Any idea at all?”

The dryads shook their heads in unison. 

“No, of course you don’t. That would have been way too easy. I’ll just get back to you in a century or so, shall I?”

“Child!” Jaheira admonished. “That was unkind.” 

The redhead shrugged, giving the druid a stubborn glance. “Jaheria, I don’t really care right now. We need to get out of here before that madman finds us, and these three are withholding the information that may mean the difference between life and death. Until we’re all safe and sound, I’ll be as rude as I please.” 

Imoen hadn’t seemed to hear any of this. She was looking at the three lovely dryads, her face longing but sad. “So pretty…I used to dream of dryads and their beautiful trees. But now my dreams aren’t pretty anymore…” 

The dryads looked at each other again, and then smiled sadly at Imoen. “Has he touched you then, as he has us?” 

“He tried to use us to instill emotions,” the golden one explained. “But Irenicus is empty…barren. The soil of his heart is dead and poisoned. It will not work.”

“Irenicus…” Zaerini said, the word sending ripples of fear through her soul. “Is that his name?”

The dryads gave each other confused glances. “It is who he is,” the dark-haired one said, her eyes solemn. “Who he has become. Who he was before, we do not know.” 

“I know that word,” Jaheira said. “Irenicus. It is elven, and it means ‘Shattered One’.”

_Elven?_ Rini thought. _Is he an elf then? But he doesn’t seem like one…and it’s not just the things he did. I’m not so naïve as to think all elves are pure and perfect. But he didn’t feel like an elf. I guess anybody can use an elven word though. I know some myself after all. And what they were saying to Immy…he didn’t do that did he? Not to her…_

A small squeak suddenly interrupted the half-elf’s musings. Boo was sitting in Minsc’s enormous palm, his nose twitching. “Boo says the Shattered One will soon shatter before Minsc’s good sword, but that we should first go acorn hunting to help the spirits of the forest.” He smiled at the dryads. “In Rasheman, the spirits are everywhere, in rocks and streams and trees. The land is alive, and the people are proud and fierce, and love freedom. Minsc will not see the gentle spirits bound in this dark place, and Dynaheir would have said the same. The mighty hamster nose of Boo will track the acorns into the very Hip Pocket of Evil.”

_I must remember to ask him about Rasheman sometimes_ , Rini thought. _Well, assuming we get out of here alive. It does sound like a fascinating place, and I hardly know anything about it._

_Acorns aren’t any good to eat though_ , Softpaws complained. _Are you sure I can’t eat that hamster? He looks suspiciously fat and juicy, I’m sure he’s in league with the Hungry One._

_Don’t be silly, Softy. Minsc loves him, he probably starved himself to keep Boo well fed. And no, you can’t eat him._

_Spoilsport…next you’ll probably say I can’t even play with the Hungry One when we catch him._

The bard envisioned Irenicus being savagely mauled by needlelike claws, and then batted around the floor like a mouse, tossed into the air, and pounced upon. _Softy, if you can pull that off, you will be more than welcome to try. In fact, I’ll want to join in myself…_

From the dryad cave, the adventurers went on to find another bedroom. This one didn’t look as if it had ever been used. It was beautiful, but in a somehow empty way. The same elegant, curling style was present in the furniture here, the bed and table, the cabinets, the bookshelves. The chamber was round, giving it the look of having been grown rather than created, and swirling leaf-like patterns decorated both the floor and the walls. Everything was in green and gold, the colors of summer, but the dark green carpet had a white pattern resembling a snowflake. _Even in the time of high summer…winter is remembered. I wonder if it means something?_

Imoen stared ahead, her eyes wide and blank. “What... what is this place? It's beautiful. Oh, there is simply no way that this space belongs to the same person that owns those horrible glass containers.” She hugged herself, looking distant. “He spoke of this room…when he was cutting…when the spells stabbed into my brain. He spoke of this…of her.” 

Jaheira carefully put her hand on the distraught Imoen’s arm. “Child…of whom do you speak?”

“His love. His lost love. He made this room for her, as a monument. To recall her by.” Her face was pinched with remembered pain. “He…spoke of this, but his voice was cold. So cold, no emotion at all. How can he be so cold?”

_Dear gods, please let me help her, though I know not how._ “Immy…” Zaerini said, hoping that her voice sounded calmer than she felt, for Imoen’s sake. “I know it was terrible. But we’ll soon be free, I’m sure we will. Then he won’t be able to hurt you again.” 

Imoen shook her head violently, her dirty hair lashing her cheeks like whips. “He’s hurting me still…his dirty fingers are running through my mind, poking me…changing me. This room…it is nothing to him, for all that he means. And we are less than nothing. I hate him. I hate him so much!” Her eyes darkening with uncharacteristic fury, the young thief twisted away from her friend, and crossed the threshold to the serene and dusty bedchamber. 

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! 

The sound of the alarm bell was deafening. Rini and Jaheria both winced with pain, putting their hands across their more sensitive ears. Minsc looked wildly about, searching for foes. Imoen clasped her hand across her mouth, looking completely chagrined. Fortunately, the terrible sound didn’t last for long. 

“Oh no!” Imoen exclaimed, sounding more like herself. She made an exasperated noise as she spotted a trip wire along the floor. “Guys, I’m so sorry. I really should have spotted that one.” She grimaced. “If Adahn were here, he’d never let me hear the end of it.” Then she sighed again. “I really wish he were here though.” 

“I’m pretty sure he’d understand that you’re not yourself just yet,” Rini said, giving her friend a reassuring hug. “As do we. None of us are exactly in shape just yet, I’m so hungry I’m seeing spots. No wonder you didn’t see it.” She found herself agreeing with Imoen in a way though. It would have been convenient for Adahn to be here, and the mysterious rogue seemed to have a gift for turning up out of nowhere. She hadn’t seen him since Baldur’s Gate though, long enough ago that she hoped Imoen had got over her unfortunate crush. _Guess neither of us is very lucky in love…_

Minsc was scratching his head. “Minsc is confused. The noise hurt, and poor Boo was very upset over the pain to his powerful hamster ears. But why is there no evil to fight?”

“We may not have to wait long,” Jaheira said, clutching her staff in a tight grip and not taking her eyes from the door. “That was an alarm of some sort. Let us hope it is not our captor himself who is coming, but simply some of his minions.” 

_Gee_ , Zaerini thought. _There’s a happy thought for you._ She couldn’t distract herself with her attempt at flippancy though. The very thought of seeing her captor again… _Irenicus, his name is Irenicus._ filled her with cold dread. _We should run! But where to? He could be anywhere, and we don’t know the way out…_

Then, heavy footsteps came pounding around the corner, and in the distance, she could hear the dryads cry out a warning. Two massive, vaguely humanoid creatures rushed into the room, fists raised to attack. They looked rather like badly formed clay sculptures, such as a child might make, but their eyes were glowing with magical light, and they were moving with strong and single-minded purpose. Zaerini struggled to draw her sword, knowing as she did that it would do little or no good. _Clay Golems! Now, where’s a good hammer when I could really use one…_


	4. Found And Lost

**Cards Reshuffled 4 – Found And Lost**

_Value those precious to you, cherish every moment you get to spend at their side, for you never know when they may be taken from you. And though sometimes they come back…more often they do not._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Get out of the way!” Imoen screamed at the top of her voice. “To the sides, NOW!” 

Zaerini didn’t have the time to think, she simply jumped out of the way of the charging golems, towards Imoen, vaguely aware of Jaheira and Minsc dodging in the other direction. The golems were strong and fast, and they were coming towards the adventurers at a high speed. Such a high speed, in fact, that they didn’t have the time to stop. They went straight past them, across the threshold of the dusty bedchamber, the room of Irenicus’ lost love. 

CRASH! 

The sound of breaking pottery was almost deafening, and then there was silence. Deep, deep silence. Finally, Rini gathered her courage enough to peek around the corner. An enormous anvil had dropped through a hatch in the roof, neatly smashing the two golems to pieces. The largest bits left were about the size of her thumbnail, apart from a solitary clay finger that stood upright in the middle of the heap of shards and swirling dust, giving her a rather offensive salute. “What…” she said. “How…”

“I spotted another trap,” Imoen explained. “One of those pressure plate things, you know?”

Rini didn’t know, but she was perfectly happy to take her friend’s word for it. “A trap…”

“Uh huh. Only, I didn’t have time to warn you, but I figured the golems wouldn’t spot it. Neat, wasn’t it?” The thief gave her friend a small grin, and for a moment she almost seemed like her own self. “Wish Adahn could have seen that one, I bet he’d have been impressed with me.” 

The bard looked at the pile of shards again. “Well, I certainly was.” She playfully tousled her friend’s dirty hair. “Great going, Immy, that was really clever of you. You probably saved our lives.” 

Imoen’s blue eyes were practically glowing with pride. “Gee…I did, didn’t I?”

Jaheira nodded. “In our present condition, a battle with those creatures would have been extremely dangerous. Well done.” 

Minsc sheathed his sword again, and then kicked at the pottery shards, looking confused. “Minsc doesn’t understand. Why would the Evil One smash his own wicked clay men? Does he have that many? It is bad to smash your own friends to tiny bits, that should be saved for your foes.” 

“I don’t think he has any friends exactly,” Zaerini said, scratching at her itching scalp. She really wanted to get her hair clean, its filthy condition was really painful, as was the foul smell she didn’t doubt was coming from her mouth. “Just tools. Immy, are there more traps here?” 

Imoen was already prowling slowly around the room, her eyes carefully scanning for the tiny danger signs that only she would be able to see. _Good_ , Rini thought. _If she can do something, it will help her not to think about the bad stuff for a while. I hope._

“Oh, here’s one…” Imoen was murmuring under her breath. “And another, on this chest. And another. Geez, talk about paranoia…I wonder…” 

Jaheira watched her, her mouth tight with concern. “Just be careful, child. Remember that you are not fully healed yet.” 

“Hey, I can do this! I’ll just…” And then Imoen waved her arm just a little bit too hastily, and a small burst of flame almost took her eyebrows off. “That is…I’ll just go slowly. Very slowly and carefully.” 

The bedroom turned out to hold a few treasures. Some spell scrolls, a couple of healing potions, a carefully pressed dried flower that was left behind, and a strange oblong metal object that Rini pocketed, just in case. No acorns though, which was a bit of a disappointment. _I just hope they’re not buried in the garbage heap_ , she thought. _I don’t want to dig through all of that._

Having rested for a short while in the cave of the dryads, the adventurers pressed on, retracing their steps past Irenicus’ ruined bedroom, the garbage heap, and the library. After a brief encounter with a group of Duergar, the dwarves native to the subterranean realm of the Underdark, they came across something very interesting. A magical portal, a possible means of escape. 

“Child, are you certain?” Jaheira asked. “We have no way of knowing what is on the other side. The dryads may.” 

“I know,” Zaerini said, her golden eyes alight with frustration. “But they won’t tell, not unless we find their stupid acorns. And we can’t run all over this place searching for them with no idea where to look. He…he could return at any moment. I think we have to take the risk.” 

“Minsc agrees!” the large ranger exclaimed. “Far better to charge bravely towards our foe, than to skulk about like poor hamsters, trapped in a maze.” He listened to the small squeak coming from somewhere inside his armor. “And with no cheese or nuts, Boo, just as you say.” 

“I’ll go where you go,” Imoen simply said. “You know that.” 

The redhaired half-elf nodded solemnly. “I know, Immy. I know.” _And I hope I won’t lead you wrong. Not again._ “Well. Let’s see what we find then, shall we?” She stepped through the portal before she had the time to change her mind, and immediately found herself under assault from a furious storm. Wild wind was whipping at her hair, tearing at her ragged clothes, stinging her eyes to tears. When she was finally able to catch her breath, she found herself standing on a bridge. Not a bridge across a river, or a bridge across a gorge. It was a bridge across nothing, a completely empty void of rushing air, with no ground to be seen anywhere. It was creaking and swinging in a manner that was very disconcerting, and wasn’t made better by the fact that the round wooden platform it ended in also was suspended over nothing, and suspended by nothing. In the distance she spied the swiftly spinning wings of a large windmill, and it was rumbling like thunder.

_Softpaws?_ Her mental voice sounded rather shaken to her own ears. _I don’t think we’re in Faerun anymore._

_Whatever you say, kitten. So, where do we go from here?_

_Uh…follow the creaking old bridge I guess, and hope there are no falling anvils about._

Fortunately, there weren’t. But there were a whole swarm of those irritating mephitis, and their piping little voices were not crying out welcomes. Weak as they were, their sheer numbers made them dangerous. A Fireball took several of them out though, and Jaheria and Minsc were able to deal with the rest with no major injuries. And then, they found the genie. 

The genie resembled the one they had encountered earlier. It had taken on the shape of a large man with a bare chest beneath a bright blue vest, and a large blue turban wrapped around his head. The dark scowl on his face was perfectly understandable, given that he was halfway trapped in mist form, pouring out from inside a tapering glass bottle standing on a small table. “Who are you…” he began, and then an intrigued look crept into his dark eyes. “Ah, I see. The Master is gone, and you are on the run. How interesting. Perhaps we may help one another.”

“Help?” Rini asked. “How?” _That other genie we met…he said I would meet two more of his kind. One would help me, the other threaten me. This seems promising. I hope it holds._

The genie’s face twisted with anger. “I am bound. Enslaved to this bottle, where I was trapped by some wizard, captured in my elemental plane of Air where we stand and forced to do his bidding. He uses me to guard things – and an item of yours is among them.”

“An item of mine? What is it?” _I lost just about everything in the capture. Please, please let it be something that can help get us out of here._

“An item of power,” the genie said, giving her a curious look. “It has a hint of your essence about it, that is how I knew. But there is something…odd. No matter. You may have it, but only if you do me a service in return. I wish to be free.” 

“We wouldn’t leave any captive behind in this place,” Imoen said. “But how can we help you? We can’t break the spell that binds you.” 

“Oh, but you can!” The genie smiled a thin smile. “The bottle that binds me is a replica of the one that exists on your own Plane. Bring me the bottle, and I will give you what is yours.” 

_Great_ , Rini thought. _More item-hunting._ “And where do you suppose this bottle is?” 

The genie shrugged. “He would keep it close to himself. Perhaps on his own person…or he may have left it with his Dryad concubines.”

“Speaking of which,” Zaerini said, her voice despondent, “and I know it must sound like a totally idiotic question, but you haven’t by any chance seen a few acorns lying about, have you?” 

The genie raised his bushy eyebrows. “I have. They are one of the treasures the Master has set me to guard.”

_Yes! Yesyesyes!_ “Er…can we have them?”

“No. The bottle first.” 

_Darn. Guess we can look forward to a long walk. No, make that two long walks._

One long walk later, the dryads listened attentively to Zaerini’s explanation, and conceded that they might as well let her have the bottle, since it would benefit both the genie and them. 

Another long walk later, the genie laughed triumphantly as he broke free of the magical chains that bound him to his hated prison. “Free!” he bellowed. “Free at last! Thank you, mortal. In return, you shall have what you requested.” He tossed her three small acorns, shimmering with a soft golden light. “And here is the other thing. May it serve you well…” 

The genie faded into nothingness, but on the table an item was lying. A sword. It was very large, a big two-handed one, and the hilt was ‘decorated’ with an ugly grinning skull. The blade was so sharp it almost seemed to cut the very air around it, and it shimmered with dark and malevolent light. _That sword…I know that sword._ Behind her, she could hear Imoen gasp with apprehension. 

“Sarevok’s sword…” Zaerini whispered. “I remember…now I remember. After he fell…I brought it with me. I must have had it when we were captured. And now it has come back. To me. The genie…he said he sensed some of my essence about it. But it belonged to Sarevok…most of its power died with my brother. I wonder what it means?”

“You are nothing like Sarevok!” Imoen protested. “I know you, and that’s…that’s just wrong.” 

Zaerini didn’t answer. She lifted the sword, turning it over in her hands. _No Immy. You’re the one who’s wrong, I think. I remember now…I remember my brother’s presence. The connection. Where is he now, I wonder? Will I join him soon?_ “Minsc,” she said, her voice neutral. “You carry it. I’m not trained to fight with a blade this big. I can hardly lift it.” 

“Minsc will do little Rini proud, and the sword will no longer serve Evil, but strike it down and chop it into tiny bits!” 

“Yes. You do that. But first, we should probably go see the dryads…again.”

Finally, after a third long walk, one that felt eternal, the adventurers once again entered the dryads’ cave. The three dryads were naturally overjoyed at the sight of their precious acorns. “If you manage to break free,” the green-haired one said, “please take them to the Fairy Queen in the Windspear Hills. She will know how to free us.” 

“The Windspear Hills?” Jaheira asked. “Are they close to this place? Do you know where we are then?”

The dryad shook her head. “No. We can sense our sisters, distantly, but we know not where we are. We don’t even know the human words for most of the places around our home. I am sorry. But we promised to help you. In the Master’s bedroom, there is a secret door, behind the bookshelf, and behind it is a portal. That is where the Master goes when he leaves this place, though we know not where it leads. I am sorry we can do no more.” 

“Thanks all the same,” Zaerini said. “You did what you could, and if we can, we’ll return the favor.” 

“That is all we can ask for.” The dryad smiled sadly. “Go in peace, and may the forest always watch over you.” 

The portal didn’t prove that difficult to find, now that they were looking for it, and the metal rod they had found in the trapped bedroom made it flare into life, flickering with blue light. 

“So,” Jaheira said. “Is it time to go, then? I admit, I am anxious to get out of this place, and to find Khalid.”

Rini nodded. “Yes. Freedom or trap, this is the only way.” She drew her sword. “And if it is a trap, I at least intend to go down fighting.” _As my brother did. Just like my brother did…_

Zaerini stumbled slightly as she stepped through the portal, momentarily disconcerted by the jolt of the magical journey. She had to concentrate in order not to lose complete control over the contents of her stomach. Not that there was much in it. She stood there, blinking, trying to take in her surroundings. At least she hadn’t wound up in the Abyss, or at the bottom of the sea, or deep inside the Underdark. That was something. The fact that she still seemed to be stuck in the same damnable maze of a dungeon wasn’t exactly enough to make her whoop with joy, however. _I want to get out of here. I…I need to get out. I have to be strong, for Immy’s sake. To make her believe that everything will be all right. But I don’t know how much longer I can do that…I just need to sleep. Somewhere safe._

As she stood there, still staring into the shadows of the corridor that led away from the shimmering portal, she suddenly noticed something. Inside the shadows…a human shape, outlined in a red glow as her half-elven eyes picked up on his body heat. Then the shadows moved and stirred, and a man was stepping out of them, eyeing her warily. _Adahn?_ Rini thought, accustomed to the rogue’s habit of sneaking up on people unexpectedly. But she immediately realized her mistake. This man was shorter than Adahn, not all that much taller than herself. His build was slender, but he seemed to be in excellent shape. Most interesting of all, his olive skin and slanted dark eyes named him a Kara-Turan, and Zaerini was instantly reminded by the other person she had met from that faraway place. _Tamoko…I remember._

The stranger had his black hair tied back, and there was one more thing that did remind Rini of Adahn. Something about the way he moved, with a fluid grace. Not quite as pronounced, but still the same manner of seeming to flow along the ground rather than walk on it. He held a slim, slightly curved sword in one hand, and seemed quite capable of using it. “So, there is sanity in all of this madness,” he said, in an accented voice that reminded Rini of Tamoko as much as his appearance did. Quite pleasant it sounded too. “If you are not in league with the evil that dwells in this unholy place, Yoshimo begs your assistance.”

_Watch it, kitten_ , Softpaws warned. _We don’t know anything about him._

Minsc seemed to agree, as he stuck Boo practically up Yoshimo’s nose, like he expected the hamster to fetch back the man’s most secret thought for public scrutiny. “We serve no evil mages, no sir! But Boo looks upon you with suspicion, little man. How is it you come to be here? Never have I seen Boo's whiskers quiver so!”

_Hmpf_ , Softpaws said, glaring at the hamster. _What does the rat know? And anyway, I said it first._

_You’re not jealous, are you?_

_Ha! I would never be jealous of some stupid rat._

_Hamster._

_Hamster…rat…snack…what difference does it make?_

_Plenty, at least to Minsc. Now hush, I need to talk to the little man…I mean Yoshimo._ “He has a point,” Zaerini quietly said to the Kara-Turan. “We have little reason to trust anybody in this place. If you want ‘our assistance’, I suggest you start with telling us exactly who you are and how you came here. I mean, for all I know, you could be some sort of nasty fiend sent to lure us into a trap.” 

Yoshimo looked highly insulted at this remark. “I am no fiend! I am Yoshimo! You know, Yoshimo?” 

Blank looks met him, but he clearly wasn’t quite ready to give up yet. “I am certain you must have heard of me. I am _the_ Yoshimo!” 

“Oh, stop this prattling, fool!” Jaheira snapped. “None of us have ever heard of you. Repeating yourself until you choke from lack of breathing is not going to change that.” 

Yoshimo actually smiled at this, something that incensed the druid all the more. “Ah, a roaring lioness in this dark and gloom. An inspiration to my weary spirit, spreading soothing balm across its ragged fabric.” 

_That has to be the first time anybody has ever called Jaheira a soothing balm_ , Rini thought.

Jaheira seemed to think much the same, as she scowled darkly at Yoshimo. “Think not that this ‘lioness’ will hesitate to sink her claws into you, if you decide to attack us,” she said. “You will need more than a way with words in order to impress me. Now, go on. What are you doing here?” 

Yoshimo sighed, giving Zaerini a comical look of despair. “She will insist on roaring, it seems,” he said. “Very well. If you do not know of Yoshimo, then you must be new to Amn, or at least to Athkatla.” 

“Athkatla?” Jaheira asked sharply. “The City of Coin? Is that where we are?” 

Yoshimo shrugged slightly. “It is where I was when I went to sleep one night. When I awoke, I was in this place, my head giving me some trouble. I can only guess that some foe or other must have seen fit to drug me. But if we are in Athkatla still, or even in Amn, that I cannot say.” 

“Your profession?” Zaerini asked. “And what would that be?” 

The man’s brief smile was quite infectious, and she found herself warming to him despite her determination to stay on guard. “Ah. I am what in these lands is called a hunter of bounties, and a very good one too.” He made an exaggerated gesture of dismissal. “But fear not! Yoshimo will not clap you in irons, not unless there is a bounty upon that pretty red head.” 

“Well, there was one,” the bard said. “But the person who offered it is dead by now, so you wouldn’t be able to collect anyway.” 

“And there you have it; you will be perfectly safe. What say you? Shall we seek our way out of this place together or not?” 

Imoen hadn’t said anything yet, simply watching the other thief silently, but now she spoke. “It might be a good idea, Rini,” she said. “I’m…I’m pretty tired. I could easily miss a trap, and four eyes see more than two.”

Rini thought about, trying to make up her mind. I’m so tired…and it still hurts all over, despite Jaheira’s healing. How can I make this decision? What if I make a mistake? They trust me, I have to do this right! 

_Think about it, kitten_ , Softpaws said, from her perch on her mistress’ shoulder. _What can you do with the male? And remember, you can only do your best._

_But what if my best isn’t good enough? I have to get us out of here Softy, I have to._

_You may still do that. But I love you just the same, you know that._

The familiar’s simple reassurance was a warm comfort against her mind, relaxing and calming. _I know, Softy. Thanks._

_It is true. Now, about the male. Do you plan to kill him right now?_

_No! Of course not!_

_Then you have only one choice to make. Either you take him along, or you don’t. Think about it. Think like a cat._

Zaerini nodded, her golden eyes narrowing with thought, and then she addressed Yoshimo again. “You may come,” she said. “I won’t trust you just yet, not until we’re safely out of this place. But I’d rather have you under my nose than behind my back if it’s all the same to you.” 

The bounty hunter bowed briefly. “That is perfectly acceptable. I am certain you will find my skills to your liking. I can stalk and fight, I can get you into places closed to you, and clear the dangerous traps from your path, yes?” Then he smiled that infectious smile again, his dark eyes glittering. “I can dance on the head of a pin as well, should you require it, but I think such displays of skill might be best reserved for later.” 

Pain and tension forgotten for a moment, Rini couldn’t help giving a brief laugh. “Yes, let’s put that one on hold a little,” she said. “But if you can help get us out of here, I might just be ecstatic enough to join you.” 

When she later thought back to that day, and to the horror of it, Zaerini would remember the strange ordinariness that preceded it. Not that the place she was in was ordinary, or the least bit pleasant, but there was the comfort of hearing snatches of quiet conversation about her, as she walked along, deep in her own thoughts. Minsc was trying to get Jaheira to check Boo for what he called ‘an ominous rumbling in his little hamster belly’, and the druid was steadfastly refusing, and getting more annoyed by the minute. Yoshimo and Imoen were conversing quietly, discussing traps it seemed. The group was a little larger, even though she wasn’t about to fully accept Yoshimo just yet. It almost felt like old times. _Almost. But not quite. But it isn’t the same. Not the same at all, not without him. I should stop thinking about him, really, I should. But…I can’t._

Her mind, her memory, they still felt hurt, shattered in places. But the memories of him, memories of before this place, they were clear. Mercifully or mercilessly so, depending on your point of view. _His quips and sharp wit. He was always able to see me through the darkness, either by making me laugh or by simply being there. His voice, his perfect voice and the way he would use it like a finely tuned instrument. His face. The look in his eyes…I wonder what he saw when he looked at me? Just a diversion? I was so certain…how could I have been so wrong about him? Why can’t I stop missing him, even now? Dear gods, I can almost feel him…and he feels so close!_

A terrible stench jolted the bard out of her reverie. They had been walking through a short corridor, and now it opened up into another room. Shelves lined the wall. Books and paper were scattered here and there, and there were long rows of jars with neat labels. 

She took another step into the room, her nose rebelling against the stench, despite the smelly filth that was still smeared all over her. _What…what is that?_

But she knew. Of course, she knew, how could she not? She had smelled it often enough. It was the stench of death. 

Knives. There were knives hanging on the walls, sharp and glittering knives. Large, small, and all sizes in-between. And there were saws, and cruel hooks, and even what seemed to be a hammer and chisel. But most of all, there were knives. 

Stronger now, the smell of death, as she approached the table in the center of the room. She was walking slowly, as if in a dream. No. Not a dream. A nightmare. One of those nightmares when you know something terrible is about to happen, but you just keep walking, powerless to stop, drawing closer and closer until it is finally upon you, and you wake up screaming. _I want to wake up. Please…I just want to wake up!_ But she kept walking. Closer. Closer. 

On the table, there was a body. As she had somehow known there would be, just like you do in the worst kind of nightmare. And right behind her, she could hear Jaheria start screaming as if her heart and soul had been rent asunder, screaming to awaken them from this living nightmare. 

They did not.


	5. Night and Day

**Cards Reshuffled 5 – Night and Day**

_So softly now your doom will follow  
Shadows drifting through the night  
Forget not, fool, the starkest horrors  
Haunt halls and streets in pure sunlight_

_Excerpt from ‘The Bloody King’, by Avon Stratford aka ‘The Bard’_

Alatos ‘Ravenscar’, the leader of the Baldur’s Gate Thieves’ Guild, was not an easily startled man. He had once burgled Entar Silvershield’s own estate, and not even batted an eyelid when the vicious attack dogs charged towards him, instead taking them out with a few well-aimed sword thrusts. He had withstood treason and treachery within the Guild after he had taken over. Once there had been three subordinates all at once eagerly trying to fill the void left behind when he died, and equally eager to create that void. The triple funeral had been very touching. And there had been that eager Flaming Fist officer who had made it his life’s mission to take him out, chasing him all over the place. That one had found out all about the folly of ‘heroic confrontations’ once he had been tossed into the harbor with an old anvil tied to his feet. Presumably he was chasing fish these days, or maybe they were chasing what remained of him. 

The Guildmaster was in his private study, examining the account books. Triple bookkeeping was tricky, but very useful if you didn’t wish for your subordinates to know exactly how much money was made, or whom you did business with. And he most definitely did not wish for that, that could make things extremely messy. Still, it was late, and he was getting a bit tired. Sighing, he lay the quill down, rubbing at his eyes. Then he suddenly froze as a sound intruded on his thoughts. It wasn’t a horrifying sound in itself, but the fact that it absolutely shouldn’t be heard in this particular time and place made it very dreadful indeed. It was the sound of somebody politely clearing their throat, and it came from directly behind his back, close enough that the owner of said throat could probably reach out a hand and touch him without effort. Or drive a blade into his back, and he didn’t doubt for a second that it was precisely that information the person behind him was intending to convey. 

The Guildmaster felt something cold stroking the bare skin of his neck, and then staying put there. Something cold with a very sharp edge. He took care to breathe very, very carefully, and not to make any sudden movements. If only he could reach the alarm button under his desk…but he didn’t dare so much as twitch.

Then there was a voice, a low and polite male voice, a perfect mix of courteousness and mockery. “Busy night?” it said. “You really should take better care of yourself, or your health might fail you. Rather suddenly too, I expect.” 

“Who are you?” Alatos asked, his calm voice not betraying his apprehension. 

The unseen assailant’s amusement was almost palpable. “I suppose I could supply you with some theatrical line at this point, like ‘I am your worst nightmare’ or ‘I am Death come for thee’. But it is not really relevant. What you should be asking is what I want. More specifically, what I want in return for going away. You do want me to go away, don’t you?”

Alatos started nodding, and then thought better of it. “Yes,” he said. “I do. So, what do you want?” He could swear he had heard that voice before, and not in pleasant circumstances either. 

The blade pressed a little harder into his skin. “I want to find some people,” the voice said, and now it sounded as cold as the heart of winter. “And I have reason to believe you may be able to help me do so. If you tell me what I want to know I will go away, no harm done to you. If you try to do something stupid, like attacking me…well, I’m sure you can guess the likely consequences of that.”

“Which people?” Alatos asked, trying to go through his long list of more or less shady acquaintances. The answer managed to take him by complete surprise though. 

“The people called the…’Heroes of Baldur’s Gate’” the voice said, and now there was a faint hint of distaste in it, as if the person had just accidentally stepped in something nasty. “And please don’t offend me by pretending you don’t know whom I’m talking about. Such a tacky title would stick in anybody’s mind, I should think.” 

Alatos paused. Certainly he knew the people in question. Anybody in Baldur’s Gate naturally had heard of the powerful heroes who had saved the entire city by rescuing the Grand Dukes and slaying the evil Sarevok. However, the Guildmaster knew them a little bit better than that, had even met one of them in person. That annoying pink-haired little girl who had been accompanied by… “It’s you!” he blurted out. “You were with that girl…what was her name…” 

“Imoen,” the voice said. “Yes, I was with her. And since you have such an excellent memory, you probably also remember that I implied my displeasure with the way you tried to set her up?”

The Guildmaster felt a cold shiver running down his back. He remembered, all right. He knew he was a skilled rogue, and a dangerous man. But this one was more dangerous by far and would kill him in an instant if he decided it was for the best. “I remember,” he said. “I haven’t moved against her, or any of her companions. I swear it!” 

“So I hear. And now you will tell me anything and everything you know about where to find them. Let us put that powerful memory to test, shall we?”

“Why should I? What are you going to do if I refuse, kill me? That will gain you nothing.” 

“True. As I said, I have no intention of killing you, unless you absolutely insist on forcing me to do so. No, I was thinking of something else entirely.” 

“Not…not torture?”

There was a disdainful snort. “For somebody in a precarious position, you really seem strangely eager to insult me. No, nothing that distasteful. There are other ways of assuring cooperation, you know, if you know where to look for them. Allow me to demonstrate.” Out of the corner of his eye, Alatos caught a glimpse of an arm speedily snatching the ledger book from the table, while the blade never so much as trembled against his neck.

“An interesting read,” the unseen speaker said, his voice sounding damnably amused. “I had much time to study it across your shoulder as I was waiting for you to get tired. I’m sure some of your more intelligent and ambitious subordinates would love to read it. Wouldn’t they be amazed to know just how great the percentage you take off their earnings is? Not just the fencing fees, but the assassination assignments you pass along as well…I really must admire your…daring. I’m sure your employees will feel much the same. The people in our profession are well known for how forgiving and understanding we are, after all.” When the voice next spoke, it reminded Alatos of poisoned black honey. “Is your memory improving yet?” 

Alatos swallowed heavily, the words tumbling out of his mouth like frightened rabbits. “After they killed Sarevok…the Heroes I mean…they didn’t stay in town for long. A week or so, I think. Their leader…the redhead…didn’t seem very happy. Not like you’d think, after a victory like that. Especially not once the wizard left.” 

There were a few moments of silence, and when the voice spoke again it was void of all emotion. “Left?” it said. “And when did this happen? Think carefully.” 

The Guildmaster tried to pick his words with great caution, so they would be unable to offend. He really didn’t want to do that, not when the other one had the upper hand. “Just after Sarevok’s death,” he said. “My spies told me…he was simply gone, all of a sudden, no trace of him. The redhead seemed quite frantic about it.”

“Did she now? So, you don’t think she was in any way responsible for this…disappearance?” 

“What, that she would have killed him? Not a chance. She was upset, kept trying to turn the city upside-down in order to find him.”

“Interesting…but I assume she did not?”

“No. She left the city herself a little later, actually. I don’t know where she went.” Alatos decided to try to divert his assailant’s attention towards other prey. “But…there’s somebody else in town, looking for her. Or there was, recently. You might want to have a word with her, in case she’s learnt something. She’s staying at the Helm and Cloak right now. Serenstina, her name is. Serenstina Tershar.” 

Once again there was a slight pause, and Alatos could almost feel the other one digesting this information. “Are you quite certain that was the name?” the voice asked, and there was just a little bit of tension evident in it. 

“Yes. Serenstina Tershar. You know her, then?”

“Not as such. But I know of her. Yes, I believe it would be a good idea to…have a word with her. But not just yet. There is still the matter of you telling me what you know of where the wizard went.” 

“What? I already said…”

“No.” Steel was clearly audible beneath the dark silk of the voice by now. “You said that the girl never found him. You never said that _you_ did not. You are the leader of this Guild. You like to keep track of people. Do you know what I think? I think that you did a little investigating on your own in case the information might be useful someday. You probably had your subordinates check both the harbor and the gates. They would know whom to talk to in order to learn things, as the girl would not. And now you are going to tell me exactly what they learnt. Aren’t you?” 

_The moment he removes the knife I’ll jump him_ , Alatos thought. _I’ll jump him and use the button under my desk to summon the guards. That should take care of him. Except of course he hasn’t removed the knife yet. And if I don’t talk…that really doesn’t bear thinking about. My enemies in the Guild would leap at that ledger book like hungry wolves on a haunch of meat, they could incite the entire Guild against me._ “How do I know you won’t kill me once I’ve told?”

“You don’t. You only have my word for that, and the only thing I can tell you is that I do not like breaking it. On the other hand, you do know that I’ll make things very uncomfortable for you if you don’t start talking very soon. I don’t like people to waste my time. I might just get so frustrated that I’ll feel a need to unburden my heart with some of your subordinates and share what I know with them – as well as the contents of a certain book. And I hope you’re not thinking of trying to lie. I know you from before, Ravenscar. I know you cannot be trusted, and surely you don’t think I would neglect to predict that might happen? I’m already in a bad mood, and that would really annoy me. If you did, I would find out eventually. And then I would come back.” 

The Guildmaster’s shoulders slumped slightly. The other one had a point. There seemed to be nothing to gain from keeping silent. _And if I can stall him, I may yet get the opportunity to get the guards in here._ “All right,” he said. “The wizard was spotted in Beregost, shortly after he left here. I honestly don’t know any more than that.” 

There was no reply. Only the cold blade pressing against his neck. It moved slightly, and then it was still again. No sound, not even the sound of breathing. Alatos was beginning to wonder whether the man behind him really was a man, and not a ghost of some sort. Seconds passed, dragging on and becoming minutes. He was painfully aware of the cold sensation against his skin, and of his throbbing pulse. _The moment he relaxes…the moment he lets go…that’s when I’ll strike. Just let me get the others in here and we’ll see how cocky you are._ More time passed. _Damn him, why doesn’t he say something? Why doesn’t he do something? What’s he waiting for? Breathe calmly. Calmly. What’s he doing?_

Finally, the tension became too much. He had to move, to act, even if it should kill him. Swiftly he twisted around, his arm coming up to ward off a blow, to sweep the blade away from him before it could find his artery. His hand met with nothing, and only the deep shadows of the room answered his loud curses. The other one was gone, gone as if he had never been here, dissolved into mist like a wraith. 

The thief looked behind him, afraid of what he would find. A blade, a single plain dagger. It was…stuck to his chair, from where it had pressed into his skin, creating the sensation he had felt. Stuck as if…as if it had been glued there. _He left long ago_ , Alatos realized. _He must have known about the alarm button and he thought this up to fool me. But why not simply kill me? Unless…my death would create a stir, and if I had lied to him he would want to be able to…come back to me._ With a small shiver, he decided that that was something he definitely didn’t want, particularly when he recalled the ominous coldness in the other one’s voice. _I really pity that wizard when that one catches him. I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes for the entire world._

Shaking his head, he gave the shadows one final nervous glance. It was late, and he should probably try to get some sleep. He was a thief, the Guildmaster of a large Guild. Only this morning he would have laughed in the face of anyone who dared suggest that shadows might frighten him. That, or he would have killed him for the insult. But tonight…tonight he thought he might just want to sleep with his candle lit. Just in case. 

_Elsewhere…_

Jaheira was screaming, long wailing cries mixed with sobs and curses, screaming as if her heart was being torn from her body while she was still alive to feel it. Minsc was trying to hold her, so she wouldn’t injure herself, but it would only work for so long. Zaerini could hear the terrible noises, but she was unable to stir. She stood motionless; her entire attention focused on the table in front of her. Or rather, the body that was lying on the table. 

The corpse had been neatly opened from throat to pubis, the breastbone sawed apart to provide easy access to the organs within. Then it had been emptied of said organs, leaving only an empty husk behind. Against her will, the bard found her eyes drifting towards the jars on the shelves lining the walls. The neat, clean jars, with their neat little labels. ‘Heart’. ‘Lungs’. ‘Spleen’. ‘Upper intestine’. There were more, many more, all of them hiding dark horrors inside. Somehow, the neat labels made it all worse.

Behind her, she could hear Imoen moan, but the words were only noises in her head. “He cut…he cut and cut…to show me, he said. Where is the soul? In the heart? The heart is just a muscle, foolish girl. In the breath? In the belly? But see, I cut them open, and there is no soul to be found…”

The face was rotting, ready to peel from the skull beneath. It was still recognizable though, even though one of the eyes was missing, the other one staring in mute and glazed accusation at the ceiling. 

“The eyes…” Imoen whimpered. “The eyes, girl. Windows to the soul, people say. Shall we see if they are correct? You need to see…to learn…” 

Beneath clumps of reddish-brown hair, the skull had been sawed open, the brain removed. The empty cavity looked strangely vulnerable without it. 

Imoen was sobbing now. “The mind…will we find the soul there, do you suppose? We must examine every possible place…we must be thorough.” 

The face. The poor, mutilated face, still with an expression of pain and fear stamped across familiar features. “Khalid…” Zaerini whispered, not recognizing the sound of her own voice. “Oh…Khalid…” 

Jaheira had found her voice again, hoarse with sobs and horror as it was, and now she broke free from Minsc’s grasp with a half-choked curse and brushed past Zaerini, towards the table. She stood there for a few seconds, staring at the corpse, her face a white mask of pain. “Khalid…” she whispered. “Khalid….say it is not so. SAY IT IS NOT SO!” She slammed her hand into the table, making the corpse stir slightly, almost as if it was coming to life. “This…this is an illusion,” Jaheira whispered fervently. “It is a dream. A bad dream.” She tore away from the table, her quarterstaff swiping desperately at the jars in the shelves, making them break and shatter against the floor, making their sad and pitiful contents spill wetly forth. “Where are the…the mirrors…the switches to pull…to show where he is hidden…KHALID!” Finally, she collapsed to her knees, her face hidden in her hands, her shoulders shaking. “Damn…damn you. Damn you! I will have the heart of who has done this! I will tear their blackened heart from their... I will...I…no…”

_I have to do something…say something…_ Rini thought. She had no idea what, though. Tentatively, taking care not to let her bare feet get cut by the broken glass or to step on any of the contents of the jars, she crossed the floor, then knelt by the druid’s side, then hesitantly put her arm about the other woman, feeling her stiffen. “Jaheira? I…I don’t know what to say, really. It’ll probably be the wrong thing anyway. I just want to help. If I can.”

The druid got to her feet with an angry gesture. “Shut up! No more words! Words are nothing! They will not bring him back, will they?”

_She’s right_ , Rini thought, hanging her head. _And about what she isn’t saying as well. This…this filthy thing happened because of me. Because of me. If not for me, if not for being my friend, she would still have her husband. How can I ever look her in the eyes again? She should just kill me now. It would be no more than I deserve._

Yoshimo had been watching the entire exchange, a wary expression on his smooth face. “I knew not this man,” he told Jaheira, “but I know what it is to lose a loved one. I mourn for your loss.” 

The druid turned on him, her green eyes spitting fire, her teeth bared in a snarl. “Stranger! Nobody! I will not hear your words! Leave me! What do you know? What can you know? Leave me, I say!” 

Imoen was patting Khalid’s bloody hair gently, humming a lullaby. “I told him to stop…” she murmured. “But he wouldn’t. He wanted me to see…to know. But I won’t remember. I don’t want to. That will teach him…” 

Minsc was shaking his head sadly at Jaheira now, holding out his hamster. “Minsc is very, very sorry. A brave man has fallen here, but that is no cause to hurl insults at the living. Here, Boo shall comfort you.”

Jaheira batted his hand away angrily, desperately. “Imbecile! Affront to nature! What do you and your rodent know! What can you know!! No words! No more words!! Save your speeches, save your proverbs!! The only voice I wish to hear is... is dead!! No more!! No...” Her anger faded, and she bent over Khalid’s prone form, gently touching his cheek. “Sil... Silvanus guide the light... to the source. Take this man to what he justly deserves. By... nature's will, what was given is returned, what was turmoil is now... is now peace. Khalid of my heart, let my love...my love guide the way...” 

“Jaheira…” Rini tried. “I know it’s a long shot…but if we can get out of here…there may be a way of returning him to life. I’ve heard of such things. Shouldn’t we try?” 

The druid shook her head, and when next she spoke her voice was calm, though her eyes were still glittering with unshed tears. “Such spells are difficult even under the best of circumstances, and only rarely successful. And past a certain amount of time they are useless, particularly when the body has been…desecrated. No. I…I must let him go. I have no choice.” Then her face hardened, and she clutched her staff hard enough that her knuckles whitened. “And one day…one day there will be a reckoning for this crime. One day.” 

“Jaheira?” Imoen said as the druid was passing her on her way towards the door on the opposite side of the room. “I’m so sorry…about Khalid I mean. But…I thought you should know…he wasn’t alive when those things were done to him.” 

“What?” Jaheira said, her voice sharp. “What do you mean? Did you see this done?”

Imoen nodded, and her voice was distant as she spoke. “He said he wanted to show me…to make me understand. He would cut and cut, a little at a time. Say ‘Do you see?’ He wanted to show me something, he forced my eyes open and made me look. But I don’t know what he wanted…” 

Jaheira closed her eyes for a second, and a muffled sound was torn from her throat. “No more, child. No more. I…cannot…no more.” 

“You should all leave this place,” Yoshimo said into Rini’s slightly pointed ear, making her startle. “This man was your friend, you are hurting. I will search the boxes in here and join you outside.” 

The half-elf nodded. “Yes…you’re right. Thank you, Yoshimo.” He really does seem to care. Perhaps I may trust him after all. “Come on,” she told her friends. “We should go. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get revenge.” _For what he did to Khalid. For him making Jaheira suffer like this. For making Minsc lose Dynaheir. For making Imoen watch…this horror, trying to drive her insane. And for me. For making me the reason for my friends’ suffering, for making me share the guilt. For all of those, I will make him suffer._

At this very moment, far above Zaerini’s head, another woman was also entertaining thoughts of vengeance. Aerie’s plan had worked perfectly up to this point. The circus, and Quayle with it, had provided her with the security she needed, but now it was past time to move on, and she intended to do so with a flamboyant display of death and destruction. After all, soon the foolish gnome would want her to display what he thought was her devotion to his ridiculous god. Little did he know of where her real loyalties lay. 

_Loviatar, my Mistress of Pain, this should please you greatly._ Aerie smiled at herself in the mirror. It was a perfect smile involving rosy lips, pearly white teeth, wide blue eyes and just the faintest hint of a blush. Just right. It had served her well in the past, and it would do so again. The elf idly twined a lock of shining golden hair about her delicate, almost translucent fingers, as she thought about the plan again. 

_Poor, poor ‘Uncle Quayle’. How surprised he would be to learn the truth, that I am in fact a powerful priestess of the Goddess of Pain, and not the slightest bit interested in his foolish gnome god. Or his raccoon. Not to mention that the loss of my wings, the terrible trauma that makes him pity me so, that that was in fact my own willing sacrifice, my offering to my Goddess in return for the power I crave. The power I deserve._

Aerie’s face darkened, and the innocent look faded before something ancient and terrible, something that would have sent Quayle away screaming had he seen it. _Fools! All of them. My mother, refusing me the power, telling me to ‘curb my ambition’. The hypocrite! Well, she will hold me back no longer. In fact, I think the Cowled Wizards would be very interested to learn of a possible source of valuable spell components. Such as Avariel wings. It would help to have the wizards in my debt, and it will improve my finances. I must remember to see to it once I am out of this stinking circus._

Yes. The circus. It had served her well, but now she was done with it. Soon, despite her charm spells, Quayle would start asking questions, would perhaps wish for her to take part in his rituals for Baervan Wildwanderer. Illusion spells would help, but they only went so far. No, it was time to leave, and to serve her Mistress she wanted to cause as much suffering as possible before she did so. Thus, Kalah. The poor, foolish illusionist gnome would be the perfect scapegoat. 

A tentative knock on the door to her wagon interrupted the elf’s thoughts, and she gracefully rose, smoothing her hair as she did so. Her face once more schooled into a sweet mask of innocence she opened the door to let in a small and furtive-looking gnome, his most prominent feature a bad squint. “Oh!” she said. “H-hello, Kalah! Please…please come in.” 

The gnome sidled past her, sitting down on some of the bright yellow pillows scattered on the floor, and helplessly sinking down into them. “Aerie…are you sure this will work?” he asked. “I wouldn’t want anything to go wrong, you know.” 

Aerie laughed, a tinkling little laughter like silver bells. “Oh Kalah…you big silly! Everything will work just fine.” She smiled a dazzling smile at the gnome, while part of her brain took a cold pleasure in the way he blushed and stammered. He was hers, heart and soul. “I…I think it is terrible the way they all t-treat you. The way they l-laugh at you. I don’t know how you can…how you can stand it. You deserve better…so m-much better.” 

Kalah grimaced. He wasn’t a particularly good illusionist, and it was quite true that he was often made an object of ridicule. Quayle had in fact confidentially informed Aerie that he planned to fire Kalah, and she had made certain to let that information ‘slip’, along with several carefully planted barbs about how the rest of the circus employees frequently mocked ‘poor Kalah’. By now, the gnome had worked himself into a paranoid and homicidal rage. He would have taken a crossbow and started mowing circus workers down if she had told him to do so. However, she had other, more extensive plans. 

“I just want respect,” Kalah muttered. “I deserve respect, don’t I? It’s their own fault if they won’t give it to me.” 

“Of course it is!” Aerie cooed. “You p-poor man…it is only…only right that you should be admired. And they will admire you…once you show them how great you are.” She handed the gnome a spell scroll, a very rare and expensive one. “They will all respect you. As I…as I already do.” Here, she made herself smile shyly, a delicate blush adding to the effect. 

“B-but what if we fail? What if…”

“Kalah!” Aerie said, now making her voice reproachful and hurt. “I…I thought you…you were brave! Are you…are you afraid to be…to be the same in your own…a-acts and valour, as you are in…in d-desire?” She sniffed. “I am but a…a weak w-woman. But you…are you a m-man or not? Would you…would you live a coward, letting ‘I dare not’ wait upon ‘I would’, like the poor vampire in the sunlight?” _Good quote that_ , she thought to herself. _Hopefully this idiot has never learnt the lines to ‘The Bloody King’ like I have. And the inflection was just right…_

Kalah’s will melted before this combination of reproach, admiration and flowery perfume. “I…dare all that suits a man,” he said. “But if I dare more…will I still be one?” 

_When this is done I will take great pleasure in slowly ripping you to pieces, you stubborn gnome_ , Aerie thought. _And then I will be rid of this place, and free to seek my vengeance on the ones who humiliated me._ Domination spells were out of the question, she needed Kalah’s mind fully functional. Instead she made crystal tears seep from her eyes and trickle down her rosy cheeks. “But you h-have sworn!” she said. “And you…you could be more than a m-man, if only you would. Weak as I am…I t-try to keep my word. Always. Had I a baby…a sweet little b-b-baby…even as it was smiling at me with its toothless gums, I would tear it from my breast and dash its b-brains out, had I sworn so!” _Yes, that truly is an excellent play._

Kalah gave her a frightened look, and for a moment she wondered if she had gone too far. But then she saw his resolve crumble and knew that victory was hers. “But if we fail…” 

“We will not fail!” Aerie cried out, clasping the gnome’s hand. “Screw your courage tight, and victory is certain. Now go! The evening performance is soon to start! The time is now!” 

Kalah rose, nodding. “It will be so,” he said. “I am settled on this course, and I will go.” 

_Yes_ , Aerie thought, once again smiling sweetly at the back of the retreating gnome. _And then I will toss you to the wolves, of that you may be certain. But for now…I will carry on with this little show. As always, a fair face will hide what the false heart does know…_


	6. Desperation

**Cards Reshuffled 6 – Desperation**

_In an emergency situation, you can push yourself into doing more than your body is really equipped to handle. It will work for a while, and it may well save your life. But sooner or later, the danger will pass, and so will that borrowed strength, leaving you even more vulnerable than before._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Jaheira?” Zaerini tried again. “Are you sure you don’t want to rest a bit?”

“I am perfectly sure!” the druid snapped, her face twisted into a mask of pain and rage. “Do not presume to coddle me, child!” 

_So much for being helpful_ , the bard thought, sighing. She understood perfectly why Jaheira was acting the way she was, that she was trying to use anger to keep her terrible grief at bay. That didn’t make her any easier to deal with though. 

_So leave her be_ , Softpaws advised. _This is not the time._

_I know…but she’s my friend! There has to be something I can do._ “All right,” she said, hoping she sounded patient. “Just let me know if there’s anything I can do, would you?”

Jaheira’s voice was biting when she replied. “Do? Do what? Can you give me Khalid back? If not, do not be so free with offering to do things for me.” Then a brief expression of chagrin flickered across her face, and she shook her head. “I…am sorry. I…did not mean…”

Rini gave her a brief smile. “Hey…don’t worry. I understand. I remember when I found Gorion…” 

Jaheira closed her eyes for a second. “Yes,” she said. “So you would. You need not worry. I will still be capable of pulling my own weight. I will not come apart at the seams…I simply have not taken it all in properly yet.” 

“Jaheira, I worry because you’re my friend! Not because I need you to fight for me.”

“Perhaps…but all the same, I cannot afford this…this weakness. Not now. Not when it may cost us our lives.” The druid shook her head and increased her pace. “Enough. I will not speak of this further, not now.” 

Zaerini followed her, uncertain if she’d been of any help or not. What she had said was perfectly true. She worried about Jaheira for the druid’s own sake. And yet…there was also another thing. _Jaheira is so strong…she always has been. To see her like this is really frightening. And I know it’s selfish to think like that, but I just can’t help it._

_Do try not to gnaw at your own wounds_ , Kitten, Softpaws said. _It will not help. You cannot help the way you feel._

_I know. But that doesn’t make me feel any less guilty about it._

Yoshimo had caught up with the others by now, despite the furious pace Jaheira was setting, and was walking a little ahead of the others, searching for traps. A good thing too, since it let the exhausted Imoen fall back and relax a little. Rini still kept her eyes on the Kara-Turan, though so far, he had done nothing to merit distrust. There had been another encounter with one of those annoying Mephits, as well as with some goblins, and he had proven very helpful with his exotic sword. A katana, he called it. 

The tunnel the adventurers were walking through made a twist now, and there was another doorway to the left. Zaerini hesitated but reasoned that she might as well have a look. She had no way of knowing which way led out, however. _If there is such a way. Perhaps he…Irenicus…simply magics himself outside. Or perhaps he never goes outside at all. He seems…suited to this place._

The doorway led to another tunnel, and now she could hear sounds from up ahead. Combat. Screams, shouts. _Is it him? Is it? Should we turn around? It’s him, I know it’s him, IknowIknowIknowIknow…_

But even as her panicked mind was telling her to run, the tunnel suddenly led her into another room, and she stared in surprise at the sight that met her. Not Irenicus, no. But what she saw was horrible enough in itself. There were more of those terrible jars, but these ones didn’t contain just any corpses. Rather, they contained one single creature, replicated again and again. An elven woman, with hair the color of autumn leaves, gold with red hints, and with a face that was pale and beautiful as she slumbered in numerous copies inside the jars. _I…I know that woman, don’t I? I’ve seen that face before. But where? I can’t remember…_

One of the jars was empty, broken in pieces, and its former occupant was standing in the middle of the floor, green fluid dripping from her naked body, sticking the strands of her long hair together. Her eyes were wide and crazy, her teeth bared in a snarl. She stood over a dead body, a man in dark leather armor, who was lying on his back with a smoking hole straight through his body where his heart had once been. 

“Er…” Rini said. “Sorry for bothering you…we’ll just be going now if you don’t mind…” 

“You!” the woman spat. “Have you come to torment me again, my ‘Lord and Master’?” 

“Of course she hasn’t,” Imoen interjected. “She wouldn’t do that. And anyway, she’s not a lord. Are you, Rini?”

The half-elf shrugged. “Not unless something very odd happened to me since the last time I had reason to check.” She turned to the elf again and tried to sound as reasonable as she could. “Look, we really mean you no harm, I promise. Honestly.” 

“Little Rini is right!” Minsc said. “Only the nastiest of evil villains would harm pretty ladies, and we are all Heroes of Goodness, shining like the sun.” He raised Boo to his ear and listened intently. “Oh. Boo tells me that he senses it is cloudy outside today, but otherwise the simile works, though Minsc doesn’t know what monkeys have to do with it. Are monkeys good? But Boo also says it is clearing up already, so maybe it doesn’t matter.”

“Minsc, I think you’re thinking of ‘simian’,” Rini said. _And how does he know that word, I wonder? Probably…probably_ he _called him that during what brief time they both spent together._

“Lies!” the elven woman spat. “Lies, all of it! You think to fool me, with your tricks and illusions? With your masks? I know who you are, I would know you anywhere. Do you think I do not recognize you and your lackeys? And you think you know me, but I am not her! Do you hear me? Do you even care? I am not her! Now kill me if you must, but I will not suffer this anymore! NO MORE!” Tears streaming down her face, she raised her hands to cast what promised to be a devastating spell, and then she toppled forward, her mouth a wide ‘O’ of surprise in her face, her eyes already glazing over in death. She fell on her face, and on her naked back a red flower bloomed. 

Yoshimo’s face was set and grim as he rose from a half-crouch behind the corpse, wiping his katana clean. “She was insane,” he said, shaking his head. “Better that she be given a swift death than that she be allowed to harm us and risk our escape.” 

Jaheira nodded, looking tired. “I fear it is so,” she said. “Illnesses of the mind are beyond my skill, I could not have helped her, and she was clearly very dangerous.” 

“Poor, sad elf lady,” Minsc said, and there were tears in his wide blue eyes as he cuddled Boo to his cheek. “Minsc knows what it is to be lost and confused, that is how he was before he found Boo to guide him and explain things to him.” 

Imoen was looking at the jars, touching one of them with a fascinated expression on her face. “More of these things…how I hate them. The other ones are dead, see?”

Rini took a closer look. It certainly appeared to be the case. The other clones were lifeless, some of them rotting already, she could see it now. _At least that means I won’t have to break any more jars open. I don’t know if I could take that. Not…not after Khalid._ “Yes,” she said, her voice frighteningly emotionless, even to her own ears. “I see. I suppose they were the lucky ones, weren’t they?” 

“What a tortured creature that clone-thing was,” Imoen mused. “She was a copy? A copy of another person? I wonder why Irenicus made her? I doubt he took pleasure in her company; he's beyond that. He's fascinated with death. He showed me... over and over...” She bit her lip. “He kept showing me…but I don’t know what he wanted me to see.” 

“We’ll find out,” the bard said, trying to give her friend an encouraging look. She was so tired herself though. She didn’t know how much longer she could be strong. Especially now…with Jaheira the way she was. Minsc was kind, but too uncomplicated. Yoshimo was a stranger. _I have to be strong. I have to take care of them, Immy especially. But why would he do such things to her? Why? If it was I only, I could understand. But why her?_ “We’ll find out,” she said again, hoping she didn’t sound as exhausted as she felt as she pushed her grimy hair out of her eyes. “But first, we have to get out of here. Let’s go.” 

_It can’t be that much further now. It can’t. Oh please, let it end soon. I’m so tired…please, I don’t want to have to pretend to be fine much longer. I don’t think that I can. And if I fail…then what will happen to Immy? That could break her utterly. Just a little bit longer. I can do that. If I have to._

They went on. Ever onward, through dark corridors and darker rooms, past deadly traps and beasts. Goblins. Duergar. A doppelganger locked inside a small cell, trying to trick them into releasing him, spitting and cursing when they refused. Rini had killed him through the bars, two Acid Arrows piercing the gray skin. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t ‘honest combat’. She didn’t care. What she did care about was staying alive, and she had spotted some spell scrolls lying about on a table inside the cell. They might just help her with that. 

Still they went on. In a small and abandoned temple, a statue of an anonymous god watched them silently, blind stone eyes betraying nothing of his thoughts and name. _I would like to see Bhaal forgotten like that, one day…forgotten by all._

On they went, and now the dungeon opened up into a more open area, a sewer with stinking water and pipes jutting out of the walls. Again, an attack. More of the men in dark clothes, ironically thinking them in league with their own captor, never giving them the chance to prove differently. _Death. Again, death. Even when I would rather avoid it, I end up killing. Have I a choice? Have I ever truly had a choice?_

And now the tunnel was sloping upwards, ever upwards, and there were sounds coming from ahead. A battle was raging somewhere in front of them, screams and explosions were clearly audible. Irenicus might well be there. But she had no choice. Again, no choice. She could glimpse sunlight now, up ahead, the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, despite the way it hurt her eyes. _I have to get out! I HAVE TO!_

Blinking like a newborn, almost blinded, she crawled across a heap of rubble, heedless of danger, feeling hot sunlight burn her face. Trying to shield her eyes, she raised her head. And she saw. She saw it all. 

It was extremely strange, seeing Irenicus in clear sunlight for the first time. In Zaerini’s mind her tormentor had been associated with the gloomy dungeon, and that had helped make him less ‘real’. She could almost pretend that he was part of a nightmare. No longer though. He was there, right in front of her, solid and in full color. And a strange sight he was indeed. 

Irenicus had a fairly heavily muscled body, much more so than would be expected from the mage she knew him to be. This was made all the more obvious from the outfit he was wearing, a strange collection of gilded leather straps crossing his torso, and very tight trousers. _He…looks like he’s just come from a party. A very strange party._ The thought crossed her mind with lightning speed, and then was gone again, lost as she lost herself in staring at her enemy’s face. 

No, not his face actually. His mask. It was very lifelike, and it moved almost like a real face, its expressions shifting magically. But it was still a mask, and as he turned his head she could spot that the skin at the back of his head looked…. odd. Faded. Wrinkled. And now that she’d seen that, she could see similar spots here and there on his body as well. His eyes weren’t faded though. Those terrible, icy cold blue eyes. They held her transfixed, like a rabbit before a snake. She felt completely unable to move, as if her blood had turned to ice, even though the eyes weren’t looking directly at her right now. 

Irenicus was standing in a heap of rubble, stones and mortar. It looked like part of a large building had collapsed, and he was partially covered with stone dust. He was surrounded by strangers. More of those men in dark clothes, warily circling the wizard, short swords and crossbows at the ready. 

“You dare to attack me here?” Irenicus said, his voice heavy with cold contempt. “Do you even know whom you face?” Rini could see the magical energies gathering around him, swirling like gathering storm clouds, like a giant vortex. And he was standing there calmly in the eye of the storm. Not merely unconcerned with its destructive power, no. He was harnessing it, wielding it with ease against his foe. _I…I have never seen a thing like that. How can I stand against him? How can anybody stand against him?_

She was trembling, her teeth tightly clenched to keep them from chattering. _We must run! Run, far from here, before he notices…_

Irenicus was still preoccupied with his attackers it seemed. The strange men fought him grimly, but their efforts were similar to a kitten trying to kill a tiger. The mage’s voice chanted, chanted words of magic, calm and precise, and destruction ruled. One man screamed as his skin hardened, turning to stone, turning him into a lifelike statue, still screaming in a silent voice. Three more were struck by an enormous fireball, leaving them burnt husks on the ground. Yet another was simply rent asunder, his body dissipating into nothing, not even a speck of dust remaining. _Runrunrunrun…_

But it was too late. As she stood there, frozen with fear, her friends had made their way out of the hole in the ground that led into the dungeon. In the meantime, Irenicus finished with the last of his foes, and he turned towards them. His blue eyes held no hatred, no pleasure, not even triumph. Simply the calm knowledge that everything was exactly as he wanted it to be. “So, godchild, you have escaped,” he said. “You are even more resourceful than I had thought.” The composed and beautifully modulated voice was like daggers inside Zaerini’s mind, bringing back a confused mass of painful memories. She hadn’t heard it since he’d last…since he’d last… _NO! Don’t think about it! Mustn’t think about it! I must do something, fight him, say something, anything._ But she couldn’t. 

Instead it was Imoen, Imoen of the normally sunny heart and cheerful smiles, who turned on Irenicus, her face twisted with pain and fear. And rage as well, dark and unfamiliar. “You’re not gonna torture us any longer!” She almost screamed out the words. 

Irenicus didn’t laugh, but if she could have seen his face beneath the mask Rini didn’t doubt that he would have been sneering. “Silly girl, you just don’t understand what I’m doing, do you? No, how could you. Such comprehension would be far beyond you still. But you will learn.” 

Jaheira was edging towards Irenicus, holding her quarterstaff tightly, and beneath her dirty and tangled hair her eyes were radiating hate at the mage. But Imoen spoke again, pride still present in her voice, despite her fear. “I don’t care what you’re doing! You hurt us, and you’re gonna let us go!” 

Again, the cold voice spoke, ignoring Minsc who was drawing his sword with Boo squeaking angrily from somewhere inside his armor. “I won’t let you leave. Not when I’m so close to unlocking your power.” 

And Imoen screamed, and once again balls of red energy flew from her fingers, striking Irenicus square in the chest. “No! I have it already, you did it already, and I don’t want it! Take it away! Take it! TAKE IT!” 

_Kitten, you have to move now!_ Softpaws’ voice was frantic, and the cat was scratching her leg with sharp claws to stir her from her paralysis. _He’ll kill her!_

_Immy! I have to help her…I have to!_ Finally, the bard was able to move, but it felt as if she was trying to walk in quicksand, sinking ever deeper, even as she watched Irenicus raise his hands to begin another spell. 

But Irenicus paused, the magic hovering at his fingertips even as silvery shimmering portals formed in the air, and about a dozen new wizards stepped out of them, all of them dressed in identical gray robes with deep cowls that hid their faces from sight. 

“This is an unsanctioned use of magical energy!” one of the strange wizards sternly said. “All involved will be held. This disturbance is over.” 

Finally, there was a flash of brief emotion from Irenicus, a mild surge of annoyance from behind the mask. “Must I be interrupted at every turn? Enough of this!” 

Again, the storm of magic rose and thundered around the masked mage, death flying from his hands with every uttered syllable. Gray-clad wizards fought and died, and more teleported in to take their places, and to be slain in turn. 

“We must get out of here!” Jaheira shouted. “Now, while we have the chance!” Clearly, she had thought the better of engaging Irenicus directly after seeing one more demonstration of his power. Minsc was looking with confusion at the raging battle, wanting to charge into the middle of it, but Irenicus was moving swiftly, mirror images floating around him, and the ranger was uncertain where to turn. Imoen showed no such restraint, however. She was hissing curses like a woman possessed, some of which Rini recognized, some that she had never even heard her friend use before. Some didn’t even seem to be in Common. 

Clutching at her friend’s arm, the bard tried to pull Imoen aside, but the thief got her other arm lose, and once again bolts of energy surged from her palm towards Irenicus, bouncing harmlessly off a suddenly erected magical shield. _How does she do that?_

More of the cowled ones were appearing, portals were everywhere. Despite all the corpses on the ground, there seemed to be more than there had been to begin with. Irenicus noticed this as well, and he made a brief and annoyed gesture with one hand. “Enough. I haven’t the time for this.” 

One of the wizards spoke, his voice trembling. “You will c-cease your spellcasting and come with us!”

Once again there was that invisible sneer. “Your pathetic magics are useless. Let this end.” 

The gray-clad wizard was stubborn, however. “Even if we fall, our numbers are many! You will be overwhelmed.” 

For a few seconds Irenicus considered this, and when he spoke again, he once again sounded preternaturally calm and unruffled. “You bore me, mageling.” He shrugged. “You may take me in, but you will take the girl as well.” 

Imoen startled, realizing that the eyes of the cowled wizards were suddenly turned towards her. “What…me? But…no! No! I’ve done nothing wrong! I was only…Rini, tell them!” 

“Leave her alone!” the half-elf snarled, still holding Imoen tightly. “You’re not taking her anywhere, she hasn’t done anything.” 

The spell was cast so quickly that she barely had the time to hear the first syllables being uttered. A flash of light leapt from the hands of one of the strange wizards, and she was struck, thrown helpless to the ground. Unable to move, staring with wide and unmoving eyes at the sky, she was still able to hear everything that was going on. “She has been involved in illegal use of magic,” said one of the wizards, his voice dry and void of compassion. “She will come with us.” 

And then Imoen’s scream, heart-rending in its utter desperation. “I’m not going with him! I’m not! Help me! Please…help me! Please! Rini! RINI!”

Her best friend was screaming for her, calling out for her help, and she couldn’t go to her, couldn’t even offer as much as a single word of comfort. _It’s happening again…they’re taking her, because of me, hurting her, because of me. All my fault. All my fault…just like Gorion…_

As she lay there, her golden eyes still firmly fixed on the bright blue sky above, she could hear Imoen’s cries dwindle away into nothing, and there was one single thought as the tears started streaming down her cheeks. 

_Oh Immy…forgive me._

The sun was hurting her eyes, burning against skin that seemed far paler than it should have been, despite the dirt that covered it. Once she finally felt her limbs beginning to obey her again, Zaerini slowly pulled herself into a sitting position, her head bent towards the ground to shield her face. She stared at her feet. They were covered with filth and grime, and they hurt from crossing the sharp rocks that had made up part of the building. She tried to focus on the second toe on her left foot, where there was a painful bleeding beneath the nail. Anything to distract her from what she didn’t want to think about at the moment. Anything. Her legs looked stick-thin inside the ragged pants she was wearing. The legs, too, were very white. 

_I wonder how long it is since I last saw the sun? Days? Weeks? Months? It could have been years, I suppose. I…lost track of time. The sun…I was so relieved when I first glimpsed the sun._ It felt like years ago, though it really was no more than a few minutes. And during those minutes, everything had changed. Everything. _Immy…she longed for the sun as well. Immy…I promised her. I promised her that I would get her out, that everything…that everything would be all right._

The half-elf clutched her knees with her arms, a low, almost inaudible moan emerging from between her lips. _I promised her. She cried out for help, and I couldn’t help her._

A soft nose nudged her leg, and she met the bright green eyes of her familiar and felt the cat’s reassuring presence inside her mind. _Kitten, it wasn’t your fault. You know that, deep down. Don’t hurt yourself more than you’ve been hurt already._

_I should have done something!_

_What? Attack the Hungry One yourself and get killed? You did what you could, and now you have to do the same. You can still help her._

Rini’s mouth set in a grim line, and anybody watching would have seen her golden eyes suddenly flash like fire. _Yes. You’re right, of course. Whoever those people were, and wherever they took Immy, I will get her back. And I don’t care if I have to kill them all to do it._

_That’s better. Now, get to your feet. You need feeding, and sleeping, and washing your fur. Right now you’re exhausted and almost ready to fall down._

The bard nodded, and slowly forced herself to her feet, wincing as every muscle in her body protested. Her eyes were starting to adapt to the sunlight now, and she was finally able to take a better look at the place where she had emerged from the terror of Irenicus’ dungeon, now that there was no longer an immediate threat to her life present. 

There were broken stones and pillars all around, and now she noticed that they weren’t actually part of a single building. Rather, what had been disintegrated was one part of a vast structure, resembling a great amphitheatre. White marble formed it, and there were large gilded domes at regular intervals. On the ‘steps’ there seemed to be many doors, some of them probably dwellings, others shops. The shops were everywhere, anything from small stands to elegant establishments, and people were flocking around them like flies around a honey pot. In just the area closest to her Rini could see food stalls, with lovely smells of sweets, of exotic spices and fried meat, that practically made her drool openly. There was a weapon salesman offering what seemed to be fairly unremarkable swords, a toy maker’s, a butcher’s shop, a jeweler and a carpet salesman. Behind them she could glimpse a sea of more shops, shops as far as her eyes could see. Probably one could buy anything from apples to zebras here, assuming one had the money to pay for them. 

People were everywhere around, soldiers, beggars, children, richly dressed merchants and nobles. Arguing, haggling, bartering, and the sound of it all was practically deafening. The only ones who seemed otherwise preoccupied were the people who had formed into a crowd close by her, pointing and staring at the broken part of the amphitheatre. 

Not too far off there was a structure that deviated a little from the rest of the surroundings. It was a large tent, striped in orange and white, and in front of it there were cages containing different wild animals. She thought she could make out a moose, as well as a large snake and a pair of tigers. _A circus, I guess. Feels so strange to think of people amusing themselves right on top of…what lies below this place. Laughing. Clapping hands. Being happy._

Her friends had also broken free of the stunning spell that had incapacitated them by this time, and they came stumbling towards her, their gait as unsteady as hers. Minsc had a bleeding wound across his scalp where a falling stone had struck him, and he was covered with dust, but he was holding the Sword of Chaos steadily and didn’t seem any more disoriented than usual. “This is terrible!” he said, hurrying to steady Rini as the half-elf tripped over a rock with less than her usual grace. “The evil wizard, the murderer of fair Dynaheir flees from our righteous vengeance, taking little Imoen with him, and poor Boo was almost squashed by a most unkind and hard rock, like the one that gave Minsc his old head wound!” A petulant squeak sounded from his shoulder where the hamster perched. “We must find this evil wizard, little Rini! We must find him and stomp him flat as a pancake with the boots of justice, and then smear him with the jam of chastisement! All that is goodness cries out for this, even little Boo, though he cannot cry out quite so loudly.” 

Jaheira’s face might as well have been set in stone, and her eyes were fixed upon the broken part of the amphitheatre, as if they were trying to penetrate to the room where Khalid still lay. “It is strange…” she said. “He was fighting, seemingly prepared to fight to the death. I think he might well have won, and then he decides to give himself up. And why insist that Imoen be taken along with him?” The druid’s eyes softened a little as she turned to her fellow half-elf. “I know you want to free her at once. I would prefer that as well, as well as to…as well as to avenge those fallen. But I think it would be dangerous to rush off blindly. We must first learn more about who our foe is, and we must be properly prepared.” 

Yoshimo nodded approvingly, a hint of appreciation on his calm face. “You are right in this, druid. Preparation is the key to success. Against a powerful foe, it is a necessity, one that might mean the difference between life and death.” 

Zaerini nodded. “I…suppose you’re both right.”

“Child, I know I am right,” Jaheira snorted. “What we all need, especially you, is food, rest and a good wash, not necessarily in that order. Now move your feet and let us find ourselves an inn unless you were planning to sleep in the street.” 

The bard gave a weak smile. “You know, you’re starting to sound exactly like Softy. Want to be my second familiar?” 

Afterwards, Rini didn’t remember much about the next half hour. Yoshimo remarked that they were in the city of Athkatla, on the coast of Amn, the very city from which he had been abducted. Jaheira verified this, stating only that she had been here long ago, and then said no more on the subject. Minsc said that he didn’t care much where they were, as long as there were evil butts to be kicked, and some nuts to make sure that poor, starving Boo could be made happy again. 

As for Zaerini, she was exhausted, body and soul. Events were catching up on her. The long imprisonment, the torture, the terror. Fleeing, running for her life through the dark tunnels, not knowing whether or not she would be recaptured or killed. Then escaping, only to have Imoen snatched away before her very eyes. It was too much, and now that there was finally time to stand still and think about things, she realized just how miserable she was. In a partial daze, she allowed her friends to pull her along, catching vague glimpses of people gaping and occasionally sniggering at the sight of their scarecrow-like forms, then dissipating before Jaheira’s fiercest scowl. 

Now she was inside, where it was dark and cool, and as if from a great distance she could hear Jaheira speaking with some woman, presumably an innkeeper who was making compassionate noises. The words might as well have been the chirpings of birds or the squeaks of mice, their meaning eluded her. Trying to comprehend them was like trying to catch moonlight with her hand. 

She was walking up a flight of stairs, steep and winding, her head spinning as she walked. Then she was inside a room, and Jaheira was sitting her down on something. Soft beneath her. A bed, then. Somebody was pulling her filthy clothes off. _No…no…don’t…please don’t…_

_Kitten, it’s all right!_ Softpaws comforted her. The cat had curled up on her lap, and her hand was automatically stroking the soft fur, her motions mechanical. _It’s only Jaheira._

The words didn’t mean anything, but if the cat was calm, then it was all right. She allowed herself to be fussed over, hoping that it would pass soon.

The druid was muttering angrily to herself, then actually cursing at the sight of jutting ribs and still visible scars. Rini stared numbly at the druid, distantly wondering what the other woman was so upset about. She couldn’t seem to remember. In fact, she found it hard to remember anything at all. 

Time passed. She was being washed, a washcloth gently applied to wipe off at least most of the filth and blood that covered her. It felt good, so good. She allowed herself to relax slightly, sighing as a voice murmured comfort at her.

More time passed. She was in bed by now, her eyelids growing heavy. She couldn’t keep them up any longer, and the sheets and the pillow made her feel like she was floating on a warm cloud. How long since she had last slept in a bed? _Can’t remember that either. Only the…cage._

She must have made some sort of noise at that thought, for now a hand was pulling the sheets up, tucking her in, then smoothing her hair back. “Sleep, child,” a voice said next to her. “I am right here.” 

It made her feel safe. There would be dangers enough to deal with later, but for now, and for the first time in a long while, she was safe. _Mother? No…not mother. Never knew my mother._ “Jaheira?” Rini whispered, not opening her eyes. “That you?”

“Yes, child,” the druid’s voice answered. “Now go to sleep.” 

And Zaerini did. 

Strangely enough, the dream she remembered afterwards wasn’t one of the ones about Imoen. Nor was it any of the ones about Irenicus, or about Khalid. No, by some small mercy from the Powers That Be, the dream that remained was a quite different one. 

She was in her cat shape, the one that the Bhaal essence allowed her to shift into. She was curled up in front of a crackling fire, her fur as bright a red as the flames, and she was half-asleep, her eyes mere slits as they gazed into the fire. 

Suddenly, there was a hand on her fur, skillfully stroking her along the back. It moved steadily from the base of her neck to her tail, again and again, creating a wonderful sensation of her entire body rippling and growing hotter. Occasionally, the hand would pause to rub behind her ears, or beneath her chin. She was purring, purring so loudly that it ought to be possible to hear it on the other side of the street, and she arched her back a little to grant the hand better access, batting at it with her paw when she didn’t think it was moving swiftly enough. 

Then, the sensation changed. She was still being stroked, from shoulders to hips, and the wonderful warm feeling was still there, as if she was glowing. Something was different, but she didn’t care, she was in too much pleasure. Now the teasing fingers were paying particular attention to her lightly pointed ears, now to her throat, now to her…front. 

Still purring, she twisted around. The pleasure was slowly setting her entire body on fire, radiating out from a few spots that felt so hot it almost hurt. Gasping for air she opened her eyes to stare into a pair of dark ones very close to her face. She was no longer in cat shape, she idly noticed, as long fingers idly entwined themselves in her red hair, even as she reclined on the man’s lap. A dark face, achingly familiar, leaned in over her, smiling beneath the cowl of a blood red robe. Then he spoke, and the accented voice sent little shivers of joy down her back. 

“Hellkitten,” he said. “Don’t keep me waiting.”


	7. Circus Of Illusions

**Cards Reshuffled 7 – Circus Of Illusions**

_As something of a trickster, myself, I really should have been paying better attention. I’ll have to claim extended torture, starvation and deprivation, as well as the death of a friend and the loss of another one, as excuse for not recognizing a consummate actress when I met one.  
Sometimes I really wish Minsc had chopped the head off that ogre when we first encountered it. That would certainly have saved us all a lot of trouble and pain. I can almost see it now, the head rolling along the floor, changing back after the fact to stare at the ceiling with that familiar vapid gaze. Wishful thinking, and poor Minsc would have felt dreadful, but dreaming never hurt anybody. _

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Things had gone very wrong. Aerie paced back and forth, as much as the invisible chain allowed her to, which wasn’t very far. _How could my Goddess possibly have allowed this to happen to me?_ But she knew the answer to her own question. Loviatar delighted in all suffering, including that of her followers. If she wasn’t strong enough to handle this situation, her mistress would savor her pain. True, the goddess wanted her mission to succeed, but wouldn’t fight her battles for her. _That, I will have to do on my own. Alone…or by proxy._

Aerie rubbed at her face with clawed, sausage-thick fingers, and grunted with annoyance as she touched warty skin and jutting fangs. Of all the humiliating things that wretched gnome could have subjected her to, he had to go and change her into this! An ugly ogre! The humiliation was unbearable. 

_I am too good at what I do. That is the entire problem. I should have expected that something like this might happen._

At first everything had proceeded according to plan. Kalah the Illusionist had been so eager to get his revenge on those who had mocked him, so eager to gain the power and respect he desired. And he had desired her as well, once she had put a little effort into sending a few innocent smiles his way. He had been molded into the perfect tool, her instrument in suffering. He would rid her of her ‘Uncle Quayle’ before the gnomish cleric who had taken her in got suspicious of her failure to openly demonstrate the extent of her supposed worship of the god he served, the disaster at the circus with all its pain and suffering would give Loviatar great pleasure, and in the ensuing confusion nobody would ever know that a certain elf hadn’t died along with the other victims. But no. Kalah had to go and get creative. 

Once the designated performance had started, and the time for Kalah’s act had come, the gnome had leapt out in front of the audience as usual, waving and bowing. Most people wouldn’t have seen anything out of the ordinary about him. He was wearing a sparkling blue suit with a short cape, and a comical hat with a wide plume that bobbed up and down in a rather ridiculous manner. The audience had laughed, as they usually did, and Kalah had smiled back. But to Aerie, hiding outside the ring, the brittle edge to his smile had been clearly visible as was the scroll he carried inside his belt. 

The show had gone on, and Kalah had performed masterfully, better than he ever had before. White pigeons fluttered out of his wide sleeves, flowers rained from the air, an enormous sparkling rainbow formed inside the circus tent and beautiful nymphs danced across it. It was with no small amount of satisfaction that the Avariel noticed that every single one of the illusions wore her own face. And Kalah had gone on, really exerting himself, becoming more and more sweaty, red-faced and flustered. Eventually, he had gotten so excited that he started making mistakes, as he usually did. He had started losing control of the illusions, they dissolved even as he frantically tried to recreate them. The flustered gnome had dropped his wand, kicking it further away from him even as he tried to pick it up. In the audience, somebody had sniggered, a high and clear sound that carried far. Soon, people were laughing openly at the desperate gnome. It had been perfect. 

“You dare mock Kalah the magnificent?!” the illusionist had suddenly shouted, bringing even more gales of laughter upon himself. “Well, you will do so no longer. From now on, I will have the respect I deserve!” He had yanked the scroll out of his belt and started reading it, a wide smile on his face, his hair sticking up in sweaty tufts around his round face. Out of empty air a shimmering vortex had formed, a doorway into another place, a place of swiftly rushing clouds and screaming wind, and then the form of a bronze-skinned, bare-chested man in wide blue trousers and pointed shoes had appeared, watching Kalah with eyes that glowed faintly. 

“You have summoned me,” the genie had said. “Make your wish.” 

Chortling with glee, Kalah had barely been able to stand still. “My wish is two-fold, slave!” he had screamed. “Power…and revenge! Enhance my powers enough to grant me the means to avenge myself on those who would mock me!” 

The genie had nodded briefly. “It is done. What you do with it is your concern.” With that, he had disappeared in a puff of smoke, and Kalah had gone to work. 

The magic had flared up like an erupting volcano around the diminutive wizard, outlining him in a flash of blinding white light. Magic had tingled in Aerie’s skin, making her giggle with delight as she heard reality scream and groan with pain, shifting into another, different shape. 

Sawdust and candy floss, trapezes and clowns, canvas walls and wooden benches, the smells of horse dung and unwashed people, of greasepaint and sausages, all of them morphed, shifting and taking on new forms and shapes. Distantly, Aerie had been able to hear people screaming, had been able to see them try to run. Such lovely screams… But the magic had caught up with them all, twisting and distorting them into new, humorous shapes. Yes, Kalah had done well. He had changed himself as well, and now he towered far above everybody else. 

Aerie had just been about to turn and seek her way out of the former circus tent when a deep voice boomed out behind her. “Where are you going, sweet one? Not thinking of leaving, were you? Not after you helped me come into my own.” 

“K-Kalah?” Aerie had said, using her sweetest smile. “I…I was only…” 

“You were going to leave me! I cannot allow that; you must stay here to be my queen…forever! In time, you will learn to care for me. As it should be, what was within – shall turn without!”

Just as the elf had been about to blast Kalah to tiny pieces for his impudence she had felt the magic catch hold of her, and she had screamed with frustration as she felt her power torn out of her eager grasp. 

And now she was here. Trapped in this…this ridiculous ogre form, chained with invisible chains. She couldn’t even use her magic; the ogre body wasn’t suited for it. Aerie gritted her teeth and hoped that Kalah would give her a chance to wrap her currently massive fists around his throat. She kept pacing back and forth, the smooth marble floor cool beneath her bare feet with their gnarled toes and thick yellow toenails. She couldn’t help but be a little impressed with Kalah’s imagination. The power the genie had granted him had been used to turn the circus into his enchanted palace, and its inhabitants into his playthings. The elf found herself in a vast marble hall, where crystal clear water flowed endlessly beneath delicately arched bridges and leapt between the hauntingly beautiful fountains as if by magic. Well, it was by magic, of course. Further off along the wall she could glimpse the ‘peasants’. Kalah’s little trap, in case some fool adventurer dared enter this place. _I wish there would be one. Some muscular heroic type, with a really tiny head would be ideal._

And then, Aerie heard something. Voices, out in the hallway. 

“I cannot believe you, ranger!” a female voice, thickly accented said. Tethyran, it sounded like. “I understand you wanted to help find that child’s mother, but to simply rush into an enchanted place like that, when we are all badly equipped and not in the best of shape? Will you never learn caution?” 

“Minsc is sorry,” a second voice, clearly male, boomed out. “But when a true Hero sees the Sausages of Innocence being burnt black on the Grill of Evil, then he must take steps to snatch them out of the fire.” There was an eager squeaking sound. “Yes Boo, I know you like sausages too.” 

“No harm done so far, fierce one,” a second male voice said. This one had a strange accent that Aerie couldn’t quite place. “I agree that this is not the course I would have chosen myself, but our leader performed admirable in answering that genie’s riddle, did she not, brave lioness?”

“Maybe so,” the woman said. “But she is still tired out, and really in no shape to do battle. Have you no idea how dangerous a genie is? If that one should choose to attack us…” 

“…then there will be nothing we can do but to defend ourselves,” said a fourth voice, another female one. This one sounded younger than the other woman, and rather exhausted. “Jaheira, I know you mean well, but we really have no choice but to go on. That door disappeared behind us, remember?”

A muffled curse told Aerie that ‘Jaheira’ remembered only too well. “Very well. You are correct, child. But promise you will take no foolish risks. You are far from recovered yet.” 

“Why, Jaheira!” The second woman sounded amused by this, if still tired. “Whatever makes you think I would do a thing like that? Come on. Let’s see what’s behind that door…” 

Aerie braced herself. It was now or never. She knew exactly what an adventurer’s likely first reaction would be upon seeing an ogre, particularly if they were already tense as these people seemed to be. But just let her drip some honey in their ears and she might yet turn events to her advantage… 

Of the two men, one was clearly a Rashemani berserker. She had done some traveling in that country years ago, before her disastrous sojourn in Thay, and she recognized the tattoos. The man was a veritable giant and was carrying an impressive-looking sword. But the priestess also noticed the open and guileless look on his face, and that his eyes were kind and trusting. _Perfect. A few smiles, some giggles, that should do the trick. I’ll soon have him eating out of my hand._ The small hamster sitting on the man’s shoulder was a bit surprising, but at least that explained the squeak she had heard previously. _Filthy little beast. I hate rodents._

The second man was fairly short and slight but moved with an easy grace that suggested a trained rogue. The dark leathers matched this impression, but the man himself was more interesting by far. _Kara-Turan. Now, what would he be doing so far from home, I wonder? The ‘lonely Avariel exile’ act might work well on that one._

Both the two women were half-elves. The older one moved with the confident gait of a trained warrior, despite the fact that her leather armor was rather worn and tatty, and that the quarterstaff she carried seemed only to have some minor enchantment. Her golden-brown hair had been tied back to get out of her face, and she watched everything around her with wary tension. _The ‘lioness’. Prickly, not very trusting. But if I allow her to feel superior to me…if I play fragile and inexperienced, and admiring of her skill…that should work. Only not too weak._

The second woman, and the final member of the quartet, made Aerie almost gasp with surprise. She was yet another half-elf, younger than the warrior woman, skinny and dressed in what almost amounted to rags. Bright red hair danced about a firm but still mischievous face, currently hollow-cheeked and with dark circles beneath her brilliant golden eyes. A small black cat walked close to her, constantly watching her, and she was carrying a sword. _That one…that is the one my Mistress Loviatar sent me to search out! The Bhaalspawn…Zaerini. She matches the description exactly. And by the look of her, she has already been through some suffering. I can…almost taste the wonderful pain._

The wingless Avariel now knew exactly how much was at stake. Not only her own immediate survival. If she wanted her Mistress’ continued favor it was vital that she infiltrate this adventuring party. _Time to put on my best performance…_

“Who are you?” Aerie called out, making certain she sounded absolutely terrified. Good people were unlikely to harm somebody who sounded like that, mistakenly assuming that it implied harmlessness. “Oh, whoever you are, you must flee this place at once! He...he's killed everyone else who has come into this place, almost! Oh, please run!” _A show of altruism and self-sacrifice to sweeten the bait…maybe I should add in the ‘helpless stutter’ as well? Or is that too much? No, we’re playing for keeps here. Pity this disgusting body is so badly suited for looking cute, but at least I still have my voice._

“You have a very unusual voice for an ogre,” the redhead said, frowning a little. “Who are you? And who’s this ‘he’ that you’re talking about?”

Aerie attempted a dainty sniffle, but through her currently cavernous nostrils it became more of a pig-like snort. “I…I am not the monster I seem to be! I…I am an elf! A winged elf…or at least I was…but I am under an e-enchantment, a terrible and e-evil illusion! Oh, you must g-go before the same h-happens to you!” _Go on, ask me about my wings, you know you want to. I’m going for sympathy here, girl! And you’re not going to leave, you know you aren’t. So do I, for that matter. Hero types wouldn’t leave a poor innocent victim in here. I just love heroes…_

“A winged elf?” the rogue asked. “I have never heard of a winged elf.”

Aerie made certain to put a little extra tremble into her voice.“I...I come from a race of winged elves...although there aren't many of us left. From the Sundabar Mountains in the far North. My wings were cut off a long time ago, though...” _Now ask me how it happened._

And then the Avariel had to choke back an impatient snarl as the warrior woman gave her a suspicious glare. “As far as I am concerned, you look like an ogre,” the woman said. “Have you no proof of your claims? And you still have not explained about this ‘he’.” 

_Fine. It will work better once I have my real face back._ “Oh, I hope you don't end up like...like the others!” Aerie said. _I hope you wind up as a disemboweled corpse for doubting me, bitch._ “But, alright...m-my name is Aerie. I...work in the circus with my uncle, Quayle...” _At least we can hope that Kalah didn’t botch that and decided to keep him alive._ “I don't know exactly what happened, but everything changed a few days ago...everything became chaos and turned into what you see here. Although it all isn't real, it's an illusion... The minions...they all say they serve Kalah, so I know he's behind all of this...he's an illusionist in the circus, but I don't understand how he was able to do all of this! He must be stopped! Before he hurts any more people! Please...if...if you release me from my chains, I can help you stop him!” _And then I can serve you all up to my Mistress, neatly trussed up and with apples in your wide mouths. Kalah included, for humiliating me like this._

“Oh, the wickedness!” the large man called Minsc said. “An evil wizard is hurting people and putting chains on kind ogres with pretty voices? Such deeds must not go unpunished! Little Rini, we will help the nice ogre, will we not? Minsc doesn’t like seeing people in chains, and Boo agrees.” 

The redhead nodded. “You know I don’t like that either, Minsc. But I can’t see any chains as such…” She turned to Aerie. “What chains are you talking about anyway?”

“The chains are invisible...covered by the illusion. And...and they are magical...they prevent me from casting my own spells and they maintain the illusion which is placed on me... You...you need the key to these chains. But...but it won't look like a key! There are a couple of...commoners...in the north side of this chamber... Don't be fooled by the illusion, though...they are monsters! They have a sword which is actually my key...if you get it from them, I can remove the chain and regain my normal form! But please be careful! You...you can't trust anything you see, here!” _And isn’t that the truth. But all the same, I really mean for you to trust me, my dear._

“All right,” the half-elf said. “We’ll take a look at those people and see if you’re telling the truth. Like I said, I don’t much like seeing people chained up.” 

Aerie smiled, revealing a row of sharp and yellow teeth. “Thank you…thank you s-so much!” she squealed. “Oh, I knew you would h-help me the minute you walked in here, I knew it.” _And you will. Once I clap you in chains and deliver you to my Mistress, I will be favored above all others. Yes. Th-thank you. Thank you s-s-so much._

-*- 

Zaerini looked about her, trying to make some sense of the place she found herself in. The day really had taken a turn for the worse, it seemed. And it hadn’t been that wonderful to start with. She had woken up from a deep and mostly dreamless sleep to find herself in a bed in some place called the Mithrest Inn, and the moment she woke up the memories came crashing home. Irenicus. Khalid. Imoen. Most of all, Imoen. Weak as she was, she had somehow managed to put her clothes on, sad and pitiful rags that they were, and stumbled downstairs. There, she had found her companions and been practically force-fed by Jaheira who kept muttering about how she wasn’t nearly recovered yet and needed her strength. She was hungry, but she couldn’t eat that much without feeling queasy and had to tell the druid to step aside unless she wanted to be vomited on. 

It turned out that Yoshimo and Minsc had been out and about already, selling what things they had managed to come across during their trek through Irenicus’ dungeon. Not the scrolls though, for which she was immensely grateful. She had kept all of those herself, even the ones that she was unable to comprehend yet. They might fetch some money, but she really didn’t want to part with them. A suit of lightly enchanted chain armor had brought in enough coin that Minsc had been able to buy a platemail that actually fitted on his large frame, and Jaheira had a new leather armor. Yoshimo’s was still in good shape. As for Rini, she wore none, since she didn’t want it to interfere with her spell casting, and armor that would suit a magic user was rare indeed. 

And speaking of magic…information had apparently been gained as well while she rested. This was Athkatla, the City of Coin, the Jewel of Amn. Irenicus had brought them quite a long way, it seemed. And one of the main things about Amn, of course, was the fear and revulsion that Amnians felt for magic. So much did they hate and fear it that it was actually outlawed, and you could actually get arrested for using magic in the streets, if you didn’t have one of those ridiculously expensive ‘licenses’ to show. Which was what had happened to Imoen, and to Irenicus, if you wanted to believe that. _But it makes no sense. Immy isn’t a mage! I don’t know what she did, it looked like magic, but she couldn’t…why couldn’t they just let her explain? What kind of people are these…these Cowled Wizards that Jaheira speaks of, that seem to think they own magic and all those who would use it? How dare they! And Irenicus…why did he agree to come with them? And why Immy? And where have they been taken?_

So many questions, and so far so few answers. What little she had learnt of the Cowled Wizards so far had come from Yoshimo, who knew the city well, and from Jaheira who had apparently visited here before. The bard thought of just how little she really knew of Jaheira and…and of Khalid. She had known they were Harpers of course, and friends of Gorion before they were her friends, but she hadn’t really thought about what they had done before they met her. _Selfish little fool that I was. Too busy with myself to pay attention to anybody else. And Immy…I knew something was very wrong, I saw her use that magic or whatever it was before, but I didn’t stop to think about it. Another mistake._

But mistake or not, she had to find her friend, as quickly as possible. Jaheira had suggested that they should head for a place she knew in the slums, which tended to be frequented by adventurers. It seemed logical. They would stand a better chance of freeing Imoen if they had other people to help them. A cleric maybe, to complement Jaheira. Maybe a wizard, to replace the slain Dynaheir. _Although no wizard could ever replace…him. No! Mustn’t think about him. He’s gone. He ran off. Although…that dream I had…_

Rini sighed. That dream had been very nice, she could feel her cheeks heating even as she thought of it. _I’m not over him. Not by any means. But I can’t stand here daydreaming, that could get us all killed._

On their way across the vast mercantile plaza called ‘Waukeen’s Promenade’, where they had first emerged from Irenicus’ dark tunnels, they had passed by a circus tent, incongruously guarded by a nervous member of the City Watch. And it was Minsc who had been approached by a little boy crying for his mother, who had apparently been lost within, when some nameless horror had struck said circus. The Rashemani berserker hadn’t even stopped to ask questions before rushing inside, and Zaerini had felt she had no choice other than to follow. The big man was a friend, and she felt responsible for him. So she had followed, only to find the circus tent infinitely larger within than without, and turned into some sort of demented pleasure palace by a mysterious entity called ‘Kalah’ by the annoying genie that had popped up just inside the entrance and disappeared after asking her an irrelevant riddle. 

_This would be the third genie, of course. The one who asked about the button and the sibling, the one who gave me Sarevok’s sword, and now this one? What was it he said, the first one I met? ‘The second aids one who would destroy you, and those dear to you. The worm in the apple, the canker in the rose, that one will not be turned aside…not by you. The outcome is still uncertain. There is the mask, and the face beneath. Which will you see? Which will it be?’ I suppose this Kalah person is dangerous, but I don’t even know him. Why would he want to destroy me? Though I suppose that not knowing me never stopped people before. I wonder if that ogre who claims to be an elf knows anything?_

Now that was another oddity. It seemed that in this place nothing was what it appeared to be at first glance. Perhaps it made perfect sense that an elf would be an ogre, or the other way around. Whatever she was, she certainly had a more annoying voice than any ogre Rini had ever encountered. The half-elf decided that she would almost prefer the normal grunts and shouts of ‘Me crush you to goo!’ rather than that sickly sweet cooing. At least you knew where you stood with somebody who wanted to crush you to goo and admitted it openly. 

The half-elf suddenly heard Minsc’s voice holler from up ahead. “Little Rini! Minsc and Boo have found a spider that isn’t a spider! Come see!” 

_A spider that isn’t a spider? Perhaps it will claim to be a dragon or something. Or a tax collector._

Once Zaerini made her way over to the dark corner where Minsc was standing, she found the large ranger proudly pointing at what did indeed look like a spider. A large green spider big enough to reach him to the knees, with eight hairy legs and protruding eyes. “Yes, Minsc?” Rini said. “If this isn’t a spider, then what is it?”

“I am not a spider!” the spider said in a highly insulted voice. “Of all the nerve! I hate the ugly things, I’m afraid of them and…” The spider caught sight of one of its own legs and shrieked loudly. “Oh! I don’t know how much more of this I can take! Have you any idea what it’s like to be afraid of yourself?”

“Actually, I do,” Zaerini said, thinking of the voice of Bhaal within her. “Who are you then?” 

“My name is Hannah,” the spider said. “I came here to see the circus with my little boy. My little Geiran…” She started sobbing. “We just came to see the circus…but it all went wrong. There was this gnome doing magic, and everybody started changing into hideous creatures and there was screaming everywhere. I tried to run but then I suddenly had too many legs and…and I don’t know where my child is!” 

“We met your boy outside,” Jaheira said, patting the spider a little awkwardly on its hairy body. “He is safe, and he asked us to find you.” 

“That is right!” Minsc said. “First, we must dispense swift Hamster Justice on the evil wizard, and then there’ll be rejoicing as mothers and small children are returned. Spiders, no! Mothers, yes!” 

“Right,” Rini said. “That more or less sums it up, I suppose.” She gave the spider a questioning look. “You haven’t seen any odd people around here, have you? Apart from the ogre with the baby voice?” 

The spider clicked its mandibles together as if in thought. “There are two others,” it said. “A man and a woman, and they do not seem to be able to speak normally. They just grunt a lot and make strange noises.” 

“Those would be the ones we are looking for,” Yoshimo said, bowing politely to the spider. “Our thanks, gracious lady.” 

“Oh my,” Hannah the Spider said to herself as the adventurers disappeared into the shadows. “Gracious lady…why, if I wasn’t a married woman, I’d sure like to wrap my legs around that one…” 

Further along into the enormous marble-domed hall, Rini spotted two people standing idly, looking remarkably calm considering the strange place they were in. A man and a woman, they both looked very ordinary, with faces you wouldn’t look at twice, and simple clothes. “Hello!” Minsc called out. “Are you good or evil? If you’re good, we will rescue you from the evil wizard, if you’re evil your backsides will be kicked by the righteous boot of Minsc and the also very righteous claws of Boo.” 

As the two people turned to give the adventurers a blank look of incomprehension Rini put her hand across her forehead. _It’s his head wound. He can’t help it. Must remember that._

_Who cares about good or evil?_ Softpaws asked. _What really matters is if they’re ‘friend’, ‘enemy’ or ‘food’._

_Let’s just say that in this case ‘food’ is definitely not an option._

Then the strangers grunted loudly and charged towards Zaerini and her friends, swearing in a snarling language that didn’t sound at all human. _Well. Guess we can rule out ‘friend’ as well then._

The battle wasn’t particularly difficult, though Rini had to force herself to hold back apart from a Magic Missile delivered to the face of the man. Yoshimo’s katana neatly slipped into the back of the man like a knife into hot butter, and as the stranger dropped to the floor his face shimmered and was replaced with the greenish skin and protruding tusks of an orc. A crushing blow of Jaheira’s staff to the woman’s temple took her out as well, and a second orc joined the first on the floor. “This would be the sword the ogre requested,” Yoshimo said, his slanted eyes glittering with keen interest as he picked up a short blade with an elegantly decorated hilt from the body of the first orc. “Very nice. See, the handle is carved in the shape of an elven woman? Praying, I think. Look, she holds an offering.” 

Rini took a closer look. The handle was indeed formed like a lovely elf, with long hair flowing down along her back, her face raised towards her upraised hands, smiling beatifically. She couldn’t quite make out what the tiny woman was holding, except that it was small. “Nice,” she said. “Well, let’s go back to that ogre. I’d really like to get this over with as soon as possible.” 

When they returned to the central chamber, Zaerini walked directly up to the ogre, displaying the sword. “Here you go,” she said. “Now what?”

The ogre’s eyes widened with delight, and she eagerly spoke, her voice once more making Rini wince inwardly. “You...you have the key! Or, rather...the sword! Please...please give it to me and I can be rid of this illusionary form at last!”

“Yes, yes. I said I would, didn’t I?” 

Aerie nodded feverishly. “Yes, and your trust gladdens me. This sword is actually a key…it unlocks the invisible chain that powers this horrible illusion. Soon, I will be free!” Strangely, her stutter seemed to have temporarily disappeared, despite her obvious excitement. The ogre took the sword, carefully manipulating it between her thick fingers, and then bent down to fiddle with something invisible between her legs. Then she changed. She rapidly shrank; becoming shorter and slimmer, hair sprouted from her head and disappeared from the warts on her face, along with the warts themselves. 

When the transformation was over, a woman had taken the place of the ogre. She was a full elf, with the marked features and elegantly tapering ears typical for the race, and with a pretty flush across her soft cheeks. Golden locks flowed from her head and to the small of her back, her rosy lips were slightly open in an expression of naïve surprise as she raised her tiny hands to touch her face. She stared at the adventurers with enormous blue eyes, as wide and surprised as those of a child seeing the world for the first time and then she squealed with joy, hugging herself. “My… My hands...my skin, it's real again! Thank Baervar! Oh, we must find Quayle...and stop Kalah before he does any more harm!”

“Quayle?” Rini asked. Now that she thought about it, the woman had mentioned the name before, but she hadn’t made the connection. “This Quayle of yours…is he an elf?”

“No…he is a gnome. And the kindest and sweetest and most lovely gnome there…why do you ask?” 

“We met a Quayle some time ago,” Jaheira explained. She was glaring at Aerie but that was hardly surprising. It was her first reaction to just about any new person. “Perhaps it is the same one.” 

Aerie smiled brightly. “Perhaps…but Uncle Quayle meets so many new people. I…I’m not sure he’d remember you.” 

_He’d remember me_ , Rini thought. _I did pull his hat down over his eyes for being an obnoxious little twerp, after all._ “We’ll see about that when we find him, I guess,” she said. “You should be safe here in the meantime.” 

“Oh!” Aerie cried out, her hands clutching Rini’s arm imploringly. “I…I really don’t want t-to be left alone here…there’s that nasty s-spider and Kalah might come back and…and I want to help save Uncle Quayle!”

“You?” Jaheira asked, sounding skeptical. “What makes you think you would be any use in that task? We do not have time to baby-sit you, you know.” 

Aerie’s flush deepened a little, but when she spoke again it was in that same, meek voice. “I…I know I am small and…and w-weak, not a tough warrior like you…but Uncle Quayle taught me well! I know I can be of great use to you! I am a priestess and can h-heal you if you should need it…and I can do magic too! See!” She waved her hands about and glittering sparkles filled the air. Suddenly, a swarm of tweeting little blue birds were flying all about her, one of them landing on her upraised little finger to sing lovingly at her. Aerie smiled and responded with a few clear notes of her own, and the bird puffed itself up with pride and adoration. Meanwhile a large number of fluffy white little rabbits had appeared out of nowhere and were clustered around the Avariel’s feet, watching her worshipfully with moist brown eyes. “See?” Aerie repeated. “That was just a…a little spell I like to do sometimes…for fun…but I can do more…really.” 

Minsc was applauding; his face filled with such a level of wonder that it made him resemble one of the worshipping rabbits. “Oh, that was so pretty!” he cried out. “Almost as pretty as Aerie herself…and she likes little animals too! Boo will approve, I’m sure. Boo, come out and say hello to Aerie…” He looked puzzled. “He says he doesn’t want to. Perhaps Boo is being shy because Aerie is so very pretty.” 

“Another healer could be useful,” Yoshimo remarked. “Not to cast any shadow over the talents of our Fierce One, of course.” Jaheira snorted. 

Zaerini thought for a moment. _Softy? What do you think?_

_I don’t like her much_ , the cat replied. _But if she’ll supply me with birds and rabbits, I might give her a try. Anyway, it’s not as if you need to keep her around forever._

That was true enough. “All right,” Rini said, nodding to the elf. “You can join us for now, and we’ll see how things work out. We could use another healer I suppose…and a mage.” _But you are not the one I want. Not the one I want at all._

“Oh, that’s so lovely!” Aerie exclaimed, baring all her pearly white little teeth in a wide smile. “We will make great friends; I just know it. And I really th-think that I’ll be able to…to surprise you all with what I’m…what I’m capable of.”


	8. Tricks With Mirrors

**Cards Reshuffled 8 – Tricks With Mirrors**

_Illusions are more than mere lies; they are reflections and distortions of reality. And so it is with lies as well, the best lies are those containing a large amount of truth. The next time you face a reflection in a distorted mirror, look at it with the clear eyes of a madman and try to spot the truth behind the mirror image. Appearances are not everything, and they may deceive and trick you. Do not think that the seemingly calm and collected cannot be torn inside, that they do not weep in the lonely night. And do not presume that the one who sobs the loudest is the one who mourns the most – or at all._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

There was a woman standing at the far end of the room, beyond the spot where Aerie had been chained, and in front of a vast door leading into what was presumably another chamber. It might as well be another dimension though, for all was darkness within. The woman was young, and beautiful. This was clearly evident, for she was quite naked. She had long hair, long enough to reach the small of her back, and it was the pure gold of sunlight. Her skin was a flawless milky white, unmarred by the marks of life, and her form was fair enough to give pause, slight but shapely. From a heart shaped face, a pair of large eyes, as blue as an empty summer sky stared at the adventurers. Blue, and empty, without whites or pupils. 

_That’s no ordinary woman_ , Zaerini thought. _I…think it’s some sort of summoned construct. She looks quite a bit like Aerie too – I wonder what’s up with that? She even has pointy ears._

Clearly the Avariel had noticed that as well. Her eyes widened as she spotted the woman, becoming almost as empty as those of the construct, and for a moment her face resembled a blank canvas, waiting for an artist’s brush to create a painting. Then her rosebud mouth opened slightly, while a small frown appeared on her smooth brow. “Oh…” she said. “That…that is so h-horrid! P-poor Kalah…” 

”Poor Kalah?” Jaheira said, sounding incredulous. “Did you not say that he was responsible for all the chaos created in this place, as well as the abduction of your uncle and your own transformation? And now this…this unnatural thing?”

“Y-yes,” Aerie said, her voice diminishing almost to a whisper. “But…but I always felt s-s-sorry for him, you see. He was so…so sad and l-lonely…like I was after…after losing my wings. And…and I t-tried to be kind to him. To…to be a f-friend to him. I…I didn’t realize that he…might wish for more than that. I…I just h-hope that he didn’t do all of…all of this to…to impress me.” 

“I see,” the druid said, her face softening a little. “Well, you may have been foolish in not seeing which way things were going, but it cannot be helped now. We shall simply have to do our best.” 

“Poor Aerie…” Minsc said, a pair of honest tears rolling down his cheeks. “That the innocent and good should be treated so and be kept chained up by evil gnomes…it makes Minsc so angry! And when Minsc gets angry, Boo gets angry! And when Boo gets angry, EVIL GETS CHOPPED INTO TINY EVIL BITS BY HIS SHARP HAMSTER TEETH! RAARRRGGGH!”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Rini hastily added, throwing herself at the berserker and clinging to his arm to keep him from drawing his sword. “But Kalah isn’t here right now Minsc. Just calm down. Please? Before you hurt one of us by mistake? Boo wouldn’t want that, would he?” 

It was several tense moments before Minsc’s breathing calmed and the red fire went out of his eyes, but then he suddenly smiled. “Little Rini is right as usual, Minsc and Boo must save their strength for the evil foes ahead, so they may protect their good friends. Minsc is sorry.”

“It’s all right, Minsc. I know what it’s like to get really angry. Just take some more deep breaths, that’s better…” The half-elf gave the giant ranger a brief hug and got one in return that almost crushed her ribs. As she tried to force some air back into her mangled chest, she happened to look at Aerie. For a moment she had thought she saw a fleeting look of annoyance cross the elf’s face, but it was immediately replaced by a shy smile. _No. I am just paranoid after…after Irenicus. Now I see enemies everywhere._

“Perhaps,” Yoshimo suggested, “we should speak to this oh so delectable creation before us before she disappears into a puff of smoke…or perhaps changes into a harpy or a dragon? You never know in this place, it seems.” 

“Right,” the bard agreed. She carefully approached the empty-eyed woman, half expecting an attack. Instead, the construct simply smiled, a perfect replica of Aerie’s sweet smile, and spoke in the Avariel’s voice. Well, it resembled Aerie’s voice, but it was strong and dominating where Aerie’s was shy and tremulous. 

“Be thou not of impure heart or thou wilt surely destroy thyself. Kalah is the one Ruler, the One True Being.”

“Really?” Rini said. “Sounds like he is also the One True Conceited Prat to me…” 

The construct’s face remained expressionless and her voice never trembled. 

“Kalah is beyond thy ken, mortal! He is the Beginning. He is the End. He is our God and our King. Tremble before him and he may take pity on thee.”

“Let me guess…” the half-elf added. “He’s also the strongest, swiftest, smartest man alive, and all women who meet him swoon at his feet and want nothing more than to have his babies?” 

“How didst thou know this, mortal one?”

“Oh, just a hunch. It seemed likely. So, is the One True Being home to visitors?” 

The construct nodded. “Continue on thy path and if thou shouldst find favor in Kalah's eyes then thou shalt surely be granted an audience.”

“Isn’t that nice. Well, thanks for all your help then!” The redhead pushed past the naked woman, heading for the dark portal. “Well?” she asked her friends. “What are you waiting for? Don’t you want to meet the Beginning and the End?” 

_It seems you’re feeling a little better, kitten_ , Softpaws said as Zaerini walked through the portal. 

_I guess so…at least a little bit. I mean, I’m still worried sick about Immy and everything, but it seems likely I’ll soon get the chance to yank the chain of a pompous twit._

_That’s much better, kitten. It’s good to see you playing with your prey; it means you’re feeling stronger again._

_Heh, I suppose so. Though I doubt I’ll want to actually eat Kalah._

Behind the portal, the adventurers found another room, a round chamber with a floor of turquoise stone, the pure and perfect color of a warm ocean. Animal skins were lying here and there on the floor. The striped fur of a tiger, the black and white coat of a zebra. A golden skin that seemed to belong on a lion. Here and there lay heaps of large pillows in bright colors, soft and inviting. Bowls of fruit and bottles of cool wine stood on end tables, looking extremely tempting. Through stained glass windows, light streamed in, casting shadows of ruby, emerald and sapphire in dancing spots across the floor, though there was no sky and no sun outside those windows, only an even, magical light. All in all, it looked like a room fit for a sultan’s palace. 

“B-be careful,” Aerie warned, nervously fiddling with the sleeves of the pale yellow mage robe she was wearing. “Kalah…he will have set some…some sort of t-trap!” 

At that moment there was a low, sibilant hiss, and Rini twisted around to see the long shadows along the walls move and float towards her, forming humanoid shapes with grasping arms and hungry faces. At the same time, two large and furry creatures burst out of empty air, growling and baring sharp fangs, ears flattened back along elongated heads. She recognized them all too well. She had spent a memorable week marooned on an island populated with their like. _Werewolves! And…some other monster, some form of undead. Kalah’s upping the stakes…_

As Minsc gleefully charged the swiftly approaching werewolves and Jaheria readied her quarterstaff to take on the shadows, Zaerini prepared to cast a spell. She had a Haste spell memorized, that should help take those monsters out… 

As the bard started casting her spell, she could hear Aerie chant something in the background, murmuring so quietly that she couldn’t make out the words. Then, a bright light flared up, bright enough to hurt her eyes, and when she looked again the werewolves were gone, vanished as if they had never been there. _Illusions…of course! Kalah is supposed to be an illusionist after all. I should have guessed._

With their stronger allies gone, the two shadow creatures succumbed fairly quickly, and the adventurers sat down on the fluffy pillows to get some needed rest. “That was quick thinking,” Rini told Aerie. “Well done.” 

The elf blushed prettily and looked down on her intertwined fingers. “I…I just th-thought that they might be illusions. So m-many things here are, and I…I know Kalah p-pretty well. I’m…I’m glad I could help.” 

“Though we could have managed otherwise, it did spare us some trouble,” Jaheira agreed. 

“Aerie was very brave!” Minsc exclaimed, beaming brightly. “She turned those evil illusions away with the clear Light of Truth.” 

“Yes…” Yoshimo said with a small smile, idly studying the blade of his katana. “Such resolve…such fervor. I think anybody underestimating our little bird would be making a bad mistake.” 

Aerie flinched visibly as if she had been struck, turning away, and when she raised her head again her eyes were brimming with tears. 

“Aerie!” the distraught Minsc cried out, hurrying to the Avariels’ side. “What is wrong?”

“It…it is nothing, Minsc. I am only being…being weak and…and f-foolish. I’m sure it’s very s-silly of me to still feel such pain when people…when they remind me of my…my beautiful white wings. It is only…only right that they should…should give me no special treatment, I…I must learn to…to be strong!” She buried her face in her hands and broke down in quiet sobs. Minsc hovered uncertainly at her side, his enormous hand awkwardly patting her shoulder even as he was glaring at Yoshimo. 

“You made Aerie cry!” he said. “Minsc does not like that.” 

The Kara-Turan simply shrugged, reclining on the pillows as he studied the intricately patterned ceiling. “Ah, Yoshimo is but a poor rogue, who knows little of the ways of such gentle souls. If he has offended, he is sorry. Perhaps we might be told more of this sad story? I am sure it is one well worth hearing.” 

Aerie wiped her eyes with a lacy little handkerchief, smiling through her tears. “If…if you’re sure…I would not…would not want to t-take up your t-time with my own p-problems…” 

Everybody looked expectantly at Zaerini, and the half-elf suddenly was faced with the unpleasant realization that she was the one supposed to make a decision. Something about the situation was bothering her. _It must be her voice. I suppose I’m sorry about her wings and all…but I really can’t stand her voice. Not that she can help that, I guess. And if I try to shut her up Minsc will think I’m an evil, nasty person, I’m sure._ “Fine,” the half-elf said with a small sigh. “Tell us about your wings. We need to rest a little anyway.” 

Amidst many a nervous smile and stutter, Aerie launched into her tale, with Minsc hanging devotedly on her every word. She spoke of her people, the Avariel who were winged elves living in a city high up in the mountain, far away, and of the joy of flying. Then she explained about how she had been captured by human slavers while trying to save a little human boy from them, and sold to a circus, one different than the one where she worked now. With tears in her eyes she described being kept in a cramped cage that made her wings become to diseased that they had to be cut off, and explained that Quayle had bought her free, teaching her of his own God, Baervan Wildwanderer of the gnomes. “I…I still miss my poor wings,” she concluded. “But…but I miss Uncle Quayle too, I am s-so worried about what Kalah might do to him…” 

“I know it is difficult, but try to hope,” Jaheira said. “He may yet live, all hope is not lost.” 

“Oh no,” Aerie said with a small smile on her lips. “I…I know that. I…have much faith in you all. Together, we will make everything turn out…for the b-best.” 

-*-

The world had ended, and yet Jaheira was going on, going through the motions, trying to pretend that she was still alive. She had no choice. _I promised…I swore to Gorion that I would protect those two girls as if they were my own. And I will. Whether they think they need it or not._

She had never had children of her own. At first, she hadn’t wanted to, she had been too caught up in other things, in saving the world, in serving the balance. Then, years later, he had brought it up again, and she had looked within herself and known that the balance had shifted. _I can change my mind, if I deem it necessary. He always knew that._

They had agreed then that it would soon be time for them to bring more life into the world. Soon. Except there were so many things to do, duties to be carried out, missions to be accomplished. There was always just one more innocent life to save, just one more villain to defeat. Just one more. And so, time had passed. Time. _We thought we had plenty of time left. Years and years and years. And suddenly the time had run out._

It should have been just this one final quest. Protect Gorion’s wards, and then, a child of their own. She could almost see the infant now, smiling at her, its eyes innocent and full of trust and love. Fading away. That child would never come to be. It had been stolen from her, as had he. _Khalid, heart of my heart. How I miss you._

Jaheira carefully shifted the grip on the lightly enchanted quarterstaff she was carrying, her green eyes staring into the distance as she prepared to follow the rest of the group through a portal leading deeper into Kalah’s Circus of Illusions. She hardly saw them. She saw a kind face, with a gentle smile and loving eyes, the usual nervousness missing as he bent to kiss her. _Khalid. Why you? Why not me? You used to jest and say that you loved me enough to follow me even into Death itself. Now you have gone before me, and yet I cannot follow. The children need me still. Not our child, the one who will never be, but our children whom we both love. I cannot leave them. Not yet. Will you forgive me, Mela en’ coiamin, love of my life? I pray that you will, every time I lie down for sleep that will not come. I pray that you will forgive me for everything._

The druid hurriedly rubbed her hand across her eyes, hoping to wipe her deep weariness away before the others could notice it. She was the elder here, she felt responsible. She could not afford this weakness, not now. _Blast that Minsc! This is a worthy cause to be certain, but we are not ready. We rushed into this place blindly, unprepared, and we know nothing of what dangers lie ahead. And of the five of us, two are strangers still._

Yoshimo seemed competent enough, for all his flippancy, but he was an unknown factor. They knew absolutely nothing about him except for his profession as bounty hunter, his eastern origins, and that he so far seemed content to follow Zaerini’s lead. _But who knows what he really thinks behind that smiling face?_

Then there was Aerie. The Avariel seemed eager to please. A little too eager, perhaps. _But maybe that is not so surprising. Those with little strength tend to seek it out in others, for their own protection. We will have to see though; she may be stronger than she appears at first glance. I wish Minsc would stop fussing over her so, however. How does he expect her to learn if he will not leave her side? Zaerini should have a word with him about that, I must remember to speak to her about it._

Jaheira turned her eyes to her fellow half-elf. She was deeply concerned about the bard. Zaerini might think she was recovered from her ordeal in Irenicus’ dungeon, but she clearly was not. She was trying to seem her old self, but there was a feverish glint in her golden eyes and a brittleness to her smiles. _The child wants to be brave, but she should know that she cannot press herself too far. It was only yesterday that we…lost Imoen. She needs more rest, not to run about chasing after crazy wizards with delusions of grandeur._

That reminded Jaheira of something else, or rather of someone else, and her mouth tightened a little. _That bastard of a Red Wizard really broke the child’s heart. She still misses him, despite everything, I can tell. If I ever run into him again, I will make him pay for the tears she shed for his sake. And what makes it even worse is that in some odd and utterly insane way he managed to make me like him after a fashion! I thought he would be good for her, and instead he hurt her. Yes, should I ever come across him I will make him enter the natural balance properly. As compost. He can join the…the other wizard. Irenicus._

Jaheira was only vaguely aware of entering a new room, another dark and circular chamber with multicolored light dancing across the white marble floor. She was trembling quietly with hatred. _Irenicus. We will find Imoen and free her, then we will find him. And then I will make him regret even thinking of touching my Khalid. That I swear._ She kept focusing on her burning hatred. It helped, just a little bit. It kept her from dwelling on that room, and that table, and those neat little jars with their neat little labels. _I dare not cry. Not now, or I may not be able to stop. But inside, inside my soul is bleeding, though my cheeks remain dry. Khalid…_

“Ah, my beast, you have led them here nicely...” Jaheira was suddenly jerked back into the present at the sound of a gloating male voice somewhere ahead. A large shape emerged from the shadows, a hulking figure towering far above the adventurers. Somewhere behind her she could hear Aerie gasp and Yoshimo utter an unfamiliar word the approximate meaning of which she could guess. _That would be Kalah._

Aerie had described the illusionist as a gnome, and not a very large gnome at that. Yet this being was enormous, easily as large as Sarevok had been, with a heavily muscled body, a bald head and a tusked face dominated by a pair of malevolent orange eyes. _I suppose it makes sense. If this gnome was mocked for his small size, he would want to make himself bigger, given the power to do so._

“Kalah?” Aerie hastily said, clasping her hand across her mouth in dismay. “What…I’m not…”

The monstrous wizard laughed. “You're not what? You're not my beast? Oh, but you are, all of you are, don't you see? Do you think I don’t know? That I don’t see? When I was given the power I saw, I saw everything. I know you, my beast. I know you all.” 

Aerie shook her head violently, making her long hair whip across her face, obscuring it for a moment. “No…you…” Then she spotted something on the floor some distance away, and her voice rose to a scream as her arm shot out, pointing. “What…what is that?! Is that…wh-what have you done to my Uncle Quayle?” 

Jaheira looked in that direction, spotting something on the floor. It looked almost like a garbage heap at first, but then she saw it moving, shifting about. _A slime of some sort?_

Kalah grinned, clearly happy to change the subject for now. “I have been playing with him a little, the spineless old wretch. Made him change his ways. Don’t tell me you don’t like it, my beast.” 

“Little Aerie?” the large blob of slime suddenly said, a mouth forming along its side. “I have no eyes, no eyes!” 

“Shut up, you!” Kalah growled, waving his hand in the slime’s direction. “You can do without a mouth as well, miserable fool. You never knew, did you? Never saw. But I do. Oh, I do…” The mouth disappeared and the slime trembled, thrashing about as if in pain, but silently. 

_He tries to scream_ , Jaheira thought, her mind filled with the horror of it. _He tries to scream, but has no mouth._

“Enough!” Kalah shouted. “I need you no longer, not now when the power is mine! It’s a regular three-ring circus, isn't it, my beasts... Now go ahead and tear each other apart!”

A swarm of shadows silently glided towards the adventurers, as two more werewolves winked into existence, snarling as they charged. “Kalah!” Zaerini shouted. “Concentrate on him, he is the one giving these beasts power!” She immediately followed her own advice, chanting a spell, and a bolt of bright flame streaked out from her palm, striking the enemy wizard with an unpleasant hissing sound. 

Kalah gasped with pain, but quickly retaliated. Magic Missiles flew from his hands, buzzing little orbs of death. A couple of them struck Yoshimo, who doubled over with the shock of it, and Jaheira was forced to move in front of the rogue, quarterstaff whirling to protect him from the assault of the shadows. One of them raked her across her arm, its sharp claws sending icy pain all the way along her arm and into her body. The staff was growing heavier in her hands, she was uncertain how much longer she would be able to go on. _The shadows sap my strength! They…they might…no! I will not fall! Not here! Not when the children need me._ She struck, again and again, her aching muscles shuddering, and the shadow dissipated into a formless black blob with a piercing scream. 

As Jaheira turned to the next shadow, Yoshimo had recovered enough to stand his ground next to her, wielding his katana with grim efficiency. Out of the corner of her eye she was vaguely aware of Minsc rushing Kalah, the Sword of Chaos in hand and shouting some outrageous Rashemani battlecry, whereas Zaerini kept pelting the illusionist with what offensive spells she had left. _Where is that miserable Avariel? If she is going to let us fight this battle on our own…_

But Aerie had not been idle. Swiftly moving her hands in a complicated pattern, she chanted a spell, her voice far too low to be heard by anybody except herself, and the two illusionary werewolves disappeared in a flash of light, just as their fellows before them. The Avariel’s rosebud mouth arched upwards in a small and triumphant smile, but Jaheira didn’t have the time to pay much attention to her, as she was still engaged in a life and death struggle with the remaining shadows. 

As her back was turned at the moment, Jaheira did not see which blow it was that felled Kalah. All she was aware of was a sudden bloodcurdling scream, and then the world lurched around her, spinning and twisting. Marble and shadows, magic and illusion, they all winked out, leaving behind a fairly small and dingy circus tent, with sawdust on the ground, and uncomfortable-looking wooden benches. Several people in brightly colored tights, presumably performers, were uncertainly milling about in the ring, trying to figure out where they were and what had happened to them. And in the middle of the ring, the small figure of a gnome lay, his breath labored and his face gray with approaching death. 

“No!” Kalah exclaimed in a tiny voice resembling that of a gnat. He coughed violently. “This isn't what was supposed to happen! This isn't what was promised to me! I have...planned this for...too long only to have my plans shattered by some inbred, northern adventurers! I...I just wanted to be respected... You've...you've killed me... destroyed Kalah with your misplaced morals and beastly greed for adventure...”

Zaerini was closest and was bending down over the gnome, peering intently into his face as she tried to catch his dying words. “Promised? What was promised? And by whom?” 

Kalah opened his mouth as if to say something, but at precisely that moment Aerie screamed, a piercing wail like that of a stricken bird, and threw herself to the floor, tears streaming down her face. “Uncle Quayle! Oh no!” The slime had disappeared, and now a small and crumpled form could be seen in its stead, a large and still smoking hole burned through its chest where the heart had once been. The dead gnome’s face still held a look of vast surprise. “Uncle…Uncle Quayle is d-dead!” Aerie sobbed, hugging the corpse to her. “Oh no…what…what w-will I do now? I will be all…all alone!” She gently lay the corpse down and then buried her face in her hands, still sobbing. 

“Poor Aerie must not be left alone!” Minsc said, patting the elf on the head. “She must come with us and help kick evil butts!” 

“I…I w-would like that!” Aerie said, smiling shyly through her tears. “But…but only if you all w-wish me to. I wouldn’t want to…to be a b-bother, with my…my grief. But if…if you’re sure, I’ll do my best. Don’t…don’t m-mind me though. I’m sure I can manage somehow.” 

“Ah, another proof of a noble heart,” Yoshimo blandly said, sheathing his katana. “She is a rarity, this little one.” 

Aerie frowned, as if uncertain what he was saying, but then she smiled nervously again. 

Jaheira turned to see Zaerini looking at her, and they exchanged a long look. _That elf is like a bird fallen out of its nest_ , Jaheira thought. _Or perhaps like a newly hatched one. Frail, and constantly screaming for attention. But what will work for a hatchling will not work on the road, and we cannot spend our efforts stuffing worms into her beak. Still, she did fight. She must be stronger than she seems, else how could she possibly have survived?_

Zaerini seemed to have come to some similar decision. “You can come with us for now,” she told Aerie. “But understand that I make no promises about for how long. I’m sorry about Quayle, by the way. I didn’t know him well, but I know what it’s like to grieve.” 

“Thank you,” Aerie said, her blue eyes once again brimming with tears. “Poor Uncle Quayle…he was always s-so good to me. I’m sure you wouldn’t have let K-Kalah kill him if…if you could help it.” 

Jaheira startled, suddenly reminded of the illusionist. As she turned around, she saw Kalah’s corpse and inwardly cursed herself for letting herself get distracted by the emotional Avariel. Now Kalah would never pass on his secret. _An unfortunate mistake. I hope it will not prove to be a fatal one. Khalid…please help me. Please help me keep my sorrow in check, and help me use my strength to protect the children._

As the adventurers spoke with the woman Hannah, now happily restored to her normal form from that of a spider, Aerie hung back a little. Looking from the sad corpse of Quayle to that of Kalah, a small smile briefly tugged at the corners of her mouth, unnoticed by her companions. There was much they hadn’t noticed. Like how she had used the chaos and confusion of the battle to slay Quayle before the gnome could say anything that would raise suspicion about his new and improved personality, or about Aerie herself. The look on his face had been absolutely priceless, and now her secrets were safe again. The same went for Kalah. For a moment she had been very much afraid that he would have the time to blab about their partnership, but everything had worked according to plan. 

_Fools. Since when did wailing and moaning equal grief? But just make it loud enough, and these young ones will swallow anything. Like the makeup of the theatre, it has to be very bright and ostentatious, or people will not believe in it. And now the real games may begin. The Avariel schooled her face into an expression of sad bravery and followed her new companions out of the circus tent, making her steps as shy and hesitant as only she knew how. Good riddance, Kalah. And bye-bye ‘Uncle Quayle’._


	9. The Knight and The Damsel

**Cards Reshuffled 9 –The Knight and The Damsel**

_According to many, any good story should contain at least one Knight in shining armor, and one swooning Damsel in Distress. So does this one, in a way. Except the Knight wasn’t quite a knight, and the Damsel was more likely to cause distress in others._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Zaerini remembered how excited she had been the first time she had arrived in Beregost, thinking that the small town was very impressive. That sense of wonder had faded when she first saw the high towers and walls of Baldur’s Gate, making her feel very young and foolish. Here was a proper city at last, she had thought, and she had honestly believed that nothing would surprise her that way again. Yet here she was, walking through the teeming streets of Athkatla, and she ruefully had to admit to herself that compared to this place Baldur’s Gate was a mere village. 

She truly loved big cities, the sounds and smells (apart from the smells of the sewers, naturally) the way that excitement and adventure always seemed to be around the next corner, the colorful crowds of nobles and nobodies, knights and knaves, jousters and jesters. A big and beautiful city was like a bulging pocket ripe for picking, spilling its gold into her eager hands. There was music in the air, and alleyways promising dark intrigue. 

_If only Immy was here to enjoy it with me._

_We’ll get her back, kitten_ , Softpaws said from her perch on her Mistress’ shoulder, nudging her cheek with a small nose and tickling whiskers. 

_Yes. We will. Somehow._ Rini admitted to herself that the very thought of Irenicus still was enough to make her whimper with fear and remembered pain, but her best friend needed her, and she wasn’t about to let her down. They needed some sort of plan though. Jaheira had suggested heading for the slums. Not only would it be easier to hide there, should the Cowled Wizards get it into their heads to search for them, but the druid also explained that she had an old Harper contact with whom she intended to get in touch. 

“Bernard of the Copper Coronet?” Yoshimo had asked, grinning amiably at the druid. “A fine gentleman I am sure, even though he waters the drinks sometimes. Are Harpers in truth allowed that practice?” 

Jaheira’s back had stiffened, and she had fixed the bounty hunter with a threatening stare. “You…how did you…”

“A man in my position must know things,” Yoshimo had said, winking slyly at Rini who couldn’t help laughing a little despite her worries. “It is part of my trade, and I am told that I am very good at finding things and secrets as well as people. Did I not tell you that I am _the_ Yoshimo? You must learn to listen more closely, oh fierce one.” 

The bounty hunter actually was very likable, Zaerini thought. With all she had been through, it was a great comfort to have somebody along who was able to help her smile again. Jaheira had her own sorrow, and Minsc was…Minsc. If he made her laugh, it wouldn’t be through the use of his wit, though that certainly didn’t make her like him less. Aerie was still an unknown factor, and so far, the strongest impression the Avariel had made on her was that she had the most annoying voice she had ever heard, sounding as if it belonged to a breathless baby. _I know she can’t help it, but it still makes me want to gag her with her own hair. Still, she’s a mage, and finding another mage willing to travel with us in a city that has practically outlawed magic won’t be an easy task. I’ll simply have to try to give her a chance and hope she improves._

“Oooh!” Aerie moaned at precisely that moment, making Rini silently grit her teeth and regret the necessity of her decision. “My legs are just aching! I’ve never walked this much in my life! Can…can we rest now, please?” 

“What?” the bard exclaimed. “We’ve only gone a couple of miles, we’re not even into the slums yet. And where did you want to rest, exactly? In the gutter?” _We need a mage. Must try to remember that. We need a mage._

“No, little Rini!” Minsc said admonishingly, shaking his enormous finger beneath the half-elf’s nose. “Don’t fight with poor Aerie. She cannot help that she is not strong like Minsc and Boo, but Minsc is certain that she will make a fine butt-kicking hero all the same. If she needs it, he can always carry her. Don’t you think so too, Boo? Boo?” He scratched his bald head, looking confused. “He still won’t come out. Minsc is worried, he has never known Boo to be this shy before.” 

“Thank you Minsc,” Aerie said, smiling shyly up at the large ranger. “I…I am glad you understand. I…am not used to this sort of thing.” 

“I was under the impression you were used to being gruesomely tormented though,” Yoshimo said, with the hint of a smile on his face. “Strange, I would have thought that would be a much more grueling hardship than a little stroll through the city.” 

For a moment Aerie’s mouth fell open, but then she rapidly collected herself. “I…you…that is n-not the same thing at all! How…how could you be so m-mean to remind me of that! My wings have been clipped...oh, I wish you could understand how it feels to be bound to the ground, chained and weighted like a miserable prisoner of earth...”

“Well, it’s not as if we have it any easier,” Rini said, her voice a little more biting than she had intended. _Does she truly have no idea how offensive she sounds? I guess not._

“Oh, y-yes, I know...” Aerie hastily said, her mouth once again half open in an expression of naïve bewilderment. “I meant no offense to you. I just remember what it was like...to effortlessly soar through the clouds like the birds overhead. To be truly free. But I suppose that place is forever denied to me, now. It...it just feels so slow and mundane to walk everywhere. I don't know how you can stand it.”

“Well, it is not as if we have much choice, is there?” Jaheira snapped. “Speaking of ‘slow and mundane’, do you have the intention to move any time soon, or shall we spend the next hour looking on as you perform a dramatic monologue in the middle of the street?” 

“N-no,” Aerie said in a small voice, her eyes once again glittering with tears. “O-of course not. I…I didn’t mean to…to be a b-bother. I…I am certain I am far too sensitive about my l-loss.” 

Minsc squeezed the elf’s hand encouragingly, giving Jaheira a hurt and confused look, and then picked Aerie’s pack up to carry it for her. 

_Gods_ , Zaerini thought. _This really won’t work out, will it? He’ll be cutting her food and cleaning her toenails for her next, and we really can’t afford a party member who can’t pull his or her own weight. Not if we want to ever save Immy._

The streets were getting both narrower and dirtier now, and by now there were plenty of beggars to be seen. The houses were old and worn, frequently with the windows boarded up or broken, and in the muddy streets thin children watched the passing adventurers with eyes far too old for such young faces. Beggars were plentiful, many of them sporting colorful sores or boils, or missing limbs. “Be careful in this place, young one,” Yoshimo murmured to Zaerini. “There are many untrustworthy people about.” 

“I don’t doubt it. And no doubt you know many of them personally?”

“Certainly,” the thief grinned. “Yoshimo knows _everybody_ personally.” 

Almost as if on cue, a man stepped out of a narrow alley a short distance in front of the approaching party, smiling at Rini in a manner that reminded her of a rat spotting a large piece of cheese. “Coo!” he exclaimed, making the half-elf wince as the sound grated in her sensitive ears. “You'd be the one I be looking for, if I not be mistaken. Zaerini be yer name, aye?” The fellow was a short and skinny man, with a mouth missing several teeth and a keen glint in his narrow eyes. 

_Be careful_ , Softpaws said. 

_I was about to, Softy. When perfect strangers walk up to me and introduce themselves it’s surprisingly often that they turn out to be yet another assassin trying to kill me._

“Maybe,” the bard said. “I suppose it depends on what you want.” 

The man’s smile widened a little. “Aye, ye fit the description all right. 'Tis not what I want, but what I can be doing for ye. You might be wanting information about a young lass arrested by the wizards on your arrival here, aye?”

_Immy_. “I do,” Zaerini said. “As you know perfectly well. And I’m sure you’re about to offer to sell it to me, but before you do, I’d still like to know your name.” 

“Coo!” the man said again, slapping his forehead with his palm. “Well, bless me for bein' an idiot if I haven't gone and forgotten me manners. My name be Gaelan Bayle. Ye needn't stretch your brain thinkin', I be sure it's a name ye haven't heard.”

Rini felt Yoshimo nudge her shoulder, and the Kozakuran whispered quietly into her ear. “I know of him. He is a man with connections, and he is said to be a man to keep his word. I believe we would do well to hear him out.” 

The half-elf nodded. “What about this ‘information’?” she asked Bayle. 

The man winked at her. “Coo! I knows very little meself, me lady. I can, however, link ye up with a group that knows. Or can be findin' out.”

“The Shadow Thieves,” Jaheira said in a flat voice. “They are whom you speak of, are they not? Enough dancing about, you will tell us plainly what you know now.” It wasn’t so much a request as a clear order, a statement of how things would be. 

“Not here,” Bayle said, his eyes flickering here and there. “Too many eager ears about, if ye catch me drift. I be knowin’ of a good place fer a pleasant little chat though, just a short walk from here. What do ye say?” 

Rini hesitated for a moment. It could be a trap, of course. But I can’t afford to miss an opportunity to help Immy. “Lead the way,” she said. “And let’s hope you’re right about the ‘pleasant’ bit.” 

“Coo! Follow me then, me lady!” The thief scurried off along the alley, the adventurers following him warily at a short distance. He was right about one thing, the place he led them to wasn’t far off, only a few minutes’ walk. It was yet another one of those dirty and anonymous houses. A small and very skinny boy hung about outside, hunting rats with a sling. As the adventurers approached, he paused, watching them with great interest. Bayle led them inside, with many a smile and a ‘Coo!’ That phrase was really starting to get on Rini’s nerves by now. 

Inside, there also wasn’t anything particularly remarkable about the house. It was fairly dark, and what little furniture there was looked old and worn. At least there seemed to be no immediate danger, since there was nobody else in sight. “All right, we’re here,” Zaerini said. “Now tell me whatever it was you wanted to tell me and skip the cooing please. I’m really not in the mood. Just tell me where I can find Imoen.” 

“Co – “ Bayle started, and then hastily cut himself off as he met the half-elf’s eyes. “I mean…I’m glad ye’re willing to do business. I tell ye straight that I know a powerful group that can be helping ye. They can be findin' the wizard and the young woman both, they can.” He nodded briefly to Jaheira. “Powerful friends, if ye catch my drift. Athkatla be a place where ye need a few powerful friends on yer side. Rest ye fine that they be willin' to help... and havin' enough power to challenge the Cowled Wizards. That all ye be needin' to know.”

“Oh, do not be ridiculous!” the druid scoffed. “You are talking about the Shadow Thieves, we both know that. And I doubt they are willing to help out of the goodness of their hearts, so how about telling us what you really want.” 

Bayle’s face kept smiling, but it seemed a veil passed in front of his eyes, their expression becoming distant and unreadable. “In a place where there be many foes, the foe of yer foe is yer friend, or might be. My friends know this, so should ye. Do nay question too closely, I be only a messenger. And do nay be too quick refusing aid, ye will need it to cross the Cowled Ones. Without my organization there be nothing ye could do. Choose, then, if ye be wanting their help or nay.”

“I suppose we don’t have much choice,” Rini reluctantly admitted. “Or so it seems, at least. And what would be the price of this ‘help’?” 

“It may seem to be costly but think of the danger in crossin' the Cowled Wizards. A fair price, if ye think about it. It be 20,000 gold pieces for their help.”

“What?” Jaheira said. “That is an outrageous sum!”

Bayle shrugged. “It is the price my friends demand. It may seem steep, but if ye want their aid, there are arrangements to be made. I’m sure ye’ll be able to raise the sum, if what I’ve heard o’ye holds true.” 

“Very well,” Zaerini said, giving the man a hard look. “We will do it. And you had better keep your end of the deal.” 

“Aye, I will,” Bayle said, his gap-toothed smile never quite reaching his eyes. “Pleasure doin’ business with ye. My nephew Brus will be waitin’ for ye outside. He’ll show ye to the Copper Coronet. Best place in these parts for pickin’ up ‘irregular work’. I’m sure ye’ll find somethin’ to yer likin’ there.” 

There really didn’t seem to be very much to say after that, so Zaerini contented herself with nodding briefly to the man, before walking outside. Desperate as her situation still was, she felt better than she had in a long time. She had a goal now, a trail to follow, even if it looked to be a dangerous and winding path. _I have to start somewhere, after all. And this ‘Copper Coronet’ place seems as good a place as any. Now I just have to make up my mind whether the ‘Coo-man’ or the Avariel wins the price for ‘Athkatla’s Most Annoying Voice’…_

_Deep within the nest of sin known as the Copper Coronet…_

He wondered how long he was going to have to wait. His legs were aching from standing so long, but he would not sit down in this place if he could help it. _A veritable cesspool of corruption, by Helm! Thieves and murderers everywhere, I shouldn’t wonder._ Anomen Delryn carefully shifted his weight around, frowning as he felt the weight of his armor chafe at his shoulder. The armor was a decent one, but the padding didn’t seem as good as it should be. _Just like me. Never quite good enough._

Anomen once more examined the dark and smoky interior of the Copper Coronet, hoping against hope that some more promising candidates would have entered during the past five seconds. Sadly, that didn’t seem to be the case. There were all the usual drunks, passed out at their tables or rapidly working their ways towards doing so, snoring or singing or making drunken passes at the scantily dressed waitresses. _Abominable. Do these people have no sense of propriety at all?_ One of the girls noticed his eyes momentarily lingering down her ample cleavage and gave him a cheeky grin before she turned her back and moved off, swaying like a ship in full storm. Anomen felt a hot and furious blush coloring his cheeks, and he hated himself for it. _Indecent wench!_

From the other end of the tavern he could hear drunken laughter intermingled with pained howls. _Another dog fight, no doubt. Filthy practice. I am a squire of the Order of the Radiant Heart, soon to be knighted. I should not stand about in this low and unseemly place. I should be out there, vanquishing evil, protecting the innocent. Just as soon as I find myself some virtuous companions, equally dedicated to the fight for righteousness. If there are any such people to be found amidst the lowest scum of Athkatla, that is._

So far, the prospects were bleak as far as fellow adventurers were concerned. There was a dwarf at a table near the wall, singing an incredibly bawdy song at the top of his voice between swigs from the largest mug of ale Anomen had ever seen. The fellow seemed like a hardy warrior, but hardly the sort of person a prospective knight should associate with. 

Then there was that De’Arnise girl who was in here again, nagging everybody who came close to her about something or other. Probably out on some charity collection or something, while trying to ignore the advances of a particularly obnoxious elf named Salvanas, one of the regular customers. _That elf has no idea of how to properly court a lady. I could teach him a thing or two, were I of a mind to do so. He probably doesn’t even know the Language of Flowers, and I suspect he has never read a single line of poetry in his life._

That was it as far as the other customers were concerned. He had been standing about in this place for six days now, and not a single noble hero had appeared to journey alongside him, accompanying him as he strove to prove himself to the Order he longed to join. Inwardly wincing, he imagined the scorn of his fellow squires if he failed to meet the challenge. Not to mention that of Sir Cadril. The knight in question really seemed to hate him, always going out of his way to mock and humiliate him. _This is all his fault._ In order to be accepted into the Order all would be knights had to undertake a quest or two, proving their worth. Sir Cadril had loudly expressed his doubts of Squire Anomen Delryn ever being able to fulfill a quest more demanding than a search for a privy and said that he thought Anomen probably incapable of handling even that detail without aid. Anomen, naturally, had reacted to this. 

_And that is exactly what he wanted. Of course he knew about my temper. Everybody does. Ah, how could I have been so foolish?_

Hot with indignation, he had immediately stated that he would be able to find a noble quest within one week, and within the most infamous den of vice and corruption in the city no less. Sir Cadril had replied that if that was so, he would eat a barrel of Old Winkin’s Finest Armor Polish, without salt, but if Anomen failed he would be put on stable duties for the next three months. Right now, six days had passed, and the squire could see a pile of horse manure looming high in his future. _A few noble heroes! Surely that is not too much to ask?_

Anomen tried to mentally imagine his ideal adventuring party. _There should be a noble paladin of course. Virtuous and good. Except…not too fond of speaking of his own accomplishments or too arrogant. I really cannot stand arrogant people. Perhaps a regular warrior would be better, as long as it was one pure of heart, and of a dignified and mature manner. Yes, that sounds about right._

_I would handle the healing of course, as well as fighting on the frontlines. Perhaps one more healer might be useful, for handling lesser injuries. Somebody properly deferential, and eager to learn._

_A mage would probably be a good idea as well. Pity they are all so fond of acting so superior to everybody else. Perhaps one could be found who was extremely shy and humble and never opened his mouth except to cast spells? That would be perfect._

_A great shame that so many quests require somebody of a…less than honorable profession. Still, if I must suffer the presence of a rogue, I suppose I could, as long as it was somebody who would be inclined to obey my commands without question. Somebody polite, and perhaps even capable of being converted to the worship of Helm. That would show Sir Cadril…_

_There should be a lady as well. A fair lady, with a sweet and mild manner, like in the stories. Somebody who would listen kindly to me, and offer gentle advice. Mayhaps she would even let me wear her favor around my arm…_

Lost in his reverie, it was a few moments before Anomen noticed the fact that somebody was standing right in front of him, knocking him on his chest to create a banging noise. “Hey, metal-boy!” a melodious female voice said. “Are you hard of hearing or something? I’ve asked you to move out of the way three times now, you’re blocking the way!” 

Startled, the squire looked down to see a woman glaring up at him, her hands on her hips. A half-elf, he noticed, shorter and slimmer than a human female, and with a very put-out expression on what he instantly classified as an attractive face, if currently rather pale. _Verily, that is the reddest hair I have ever seen! And never have I seen the like of those eyes, golden orbs glowing like the very sun…_

The woman, clearly not impressed with the dumbfounded way he was staring at her, made an impatient noise and turned to one of her companions, the largest man Anomen had ever seen, who also had a small furry wig sitting on top of his bald head. No, wigs shouldn’t move. That was…some sort of animal? “Minsc,” the woman said to the man, “this guy clearly isn’t all there. Move him out of the way, would you? Without hurting him, please.” 

“Of course, little Rini!” the giant boomed. “Minsc is always happy to help!” Before he was able to say a word in protest, Anomen found himself carefully picked up, lifted, and then set down again a little to the right of his previous position. He stood there, utterly flabbergasted and humiliated, opening and closing his mouth mutely as the redhead moved past him without a single glance back in his direction. Two other women, a brunette and a blonde who both looked extremely amused followed her. He even thought he could hear the blonde snicker quietly behind her hand. The shady looking character that accompanied them was grinning openly at the flustered squire. Then there was a black cat padding silently behind them all, and he could swear the animal was sporting the same amused smirk as the rogue. 

“I…I…I…” Anomen finally managed. 

“Minsc understands,” the large man said in a sympathetic voice, patting Anomen on the shoulder. “He remembers what it was like after first getting his head wound. Well, at least Boo remembers, and he has told me.” He lovingly patted the furry creature sitting on his head. “Boo says that the world is probably very dis-or-enting right now, but that you should get plenty of rest and it will soon feel better. Getting a hamster might also help, thought there is only one Boo, and Minsc will not be parted from him. Boo also suggests basket weaving as a calming occupation.”

“I…I…I…” 

”Just let Minsc know if you need help, and do not be sad about being simple. Minsc is simple too, but he has Boo to keep him company, and friends are what really matter. Would you like Minsc to be your friend?” 

“I…I…I…”

”Minsc must go now,” the giant warrior said, sounding a little sad. “But if he can, he will be back later to help you some more. Minsc likes helping people. Bye-bye for now!” Waving cheerfully at the still stunned Anomen, he moved off, the crowd rapidly parting as they saw him approaching. It is a well-known fact that people hardly ever jostle an extremely large and armed man, particularly if he’s also packing a hamster. 

“I am not simple!” Anomen said, and even he could hear how whiny he sounded. The stranger was already gone, but Anomen determinedly followed him. He would find out who these people were. Probably brigands, that redhead had looked very scruffy. Quite comely though. Still, you never knew. There might just be a noble quest to be found here, and he couldn’t afford not to take the chance, not unless he wanted to spend the next few months hip deep in horse droppings, watching Sir Cadril’s smug sneer. 

For a moment the squire thought he had lost the strangers in the crowd, but then he heard a violent commotion up ahead, with several voices raised in anger. _That would be them._ Once he had pushed his way through to the area near the fighting pit, he caught sight of the redhead. The girl was glaring daggers at two rough looking men, both of them about twice as large as she was, and as Anomen listened she let loose a torrent of complicated insults, many of which he didn’t even comprehend. Some of them he didn’t want to comprehend. 

“Call me a ‘little girl’ do you?” the redhead went on, hissing with anger, and clenching her hands into fists. “Call me a coward? Well, I can fight either of you, any time! Shouldn’t be much of a challenge, seeing as you barely have enough brain capacity to keep your bodies breathing without prompting. Only problem might be that the fact that you both have faces ugly enough to be mistaken for the rear end of a warthog with hemorrhoids might make me want to choke on my own vomit.”

“Child,” the brunette said in a stern voice, pulling at the other woman’s arm, “this is not a good time to do this sort of thing.” 

“Yes it is!” The redhead never took her eyes off the two ruffians. “I want to do this. I need to do this.” She sneered at the two men in front of her. “What’s the matter, boys? Too scared to fight a ‘little girl’? You should be. Little girls fight dirty.” Accompanied by the eager cheers of the crowd she stepped into the fighting pit, followed by the two men, both of whom were grinning and nudging each other, clearly confident of their victory. Bets were already being placed.

Drawing their short swords, the two men approached, trying to circle around to attack the girl from either side. _She is doomed_ , Anomen thought, a terrible sinking feeling in his stomach. _She cannot possibly hope to prevail._

The redhead smiled pleasantly and side-stepped the clumsy swings of her opponents. Her smile widened even further, and then she…disappeared. In her place stood a terrible monster, a snake woman with green and glittering scales all along her naked torso, with cruel yellow eyes and a forked and flickering tongue. She hissed, baring sharp fangs dripping with poison, and the two men stopped in their tracks. Having exchanged a look, they shrieked loudly and took off so quickly that their feet hardly seemed to touch the ground. 

_A Yuan-Ti!_ Anomen thought, reaching for his mace. _How is it possible? She did not seem evil. Well, not very._ Then the scales and fangs disappeared, and the woman resumed her normal appearance, looking extremely tired. She steadied herself against the wall as the brunette and the barbarian with the hamster rushed over, followed at a slower pace by the blonde elf and the roguish looking man. 

“Do you see?” the brunette scolding, casting a healing spell on her friend. “I warned you against exerting yourself, it is too soon.” 

The other woman smiled wearily. “I guess you have a point, Jaheira. Didn’t think that little display would take so much out of me.” 

“It…it was an illusion, wasn’t it?” the blonde elf asked, sounding fascinated. “How…how did you do that? It…was like in the circus. With…with p-poor Uncle Quayle.” 

“Never mind,” the redhead shortly said. “This is not the place to speak of such things. Anybody could be listening.” She then turned her head to see Anomen. “Speak of the ta’nari…don’t you have a home of some kind, metal-boy? Some sort of legal guardian maybe?”

Offensive as the words were, Anomen paid them no heed. _She is disorderly and mercurial, and judging from the sad state of her clothes she is certainly a commoner. But she is an adventurer, and by Helm’s holy hand, she is comely. This is no coincidence; I recognize Destiny when I see it. It is meant to be. I must speak now, or forever regret holding my tongue. Is my armor bright enough? I only spent two hours on it yesterday…_ “Fair lady,” he said, “what brings you to this cesspool of corruption? Dark danger lurks in every corner, and virtue is e’er threatened by those who would prey on the meek and innocent. Fortune smiles upon our meeting though, for I am Anomen, Warrior Priest of Helm, and a force dedicated to serving justice and righteousness. Should you desire to walk the path of virtue, my virtuous and strong arm will be lent to your protection.” _Good, that’s a good start. It shows politeness, a serious mind, and a willingness to be chivalrous and protective. Perhaps too many ‘virtue’? No. You can’t insert too many ‘virtue’, that is how true paladins talk._

It was therefore with some surprise that he saw the redhead roll her eyes skyward. “Why me?” she asked. 

Zaerini gave the man before her a considering look. He was fairly tall and looked strong and healthy. The armor he was wearing was extremely shiny, and there was a symbol engraved on the breastplate. The everseeing eye of the Watcher. _So, he’s a Helmite then. Not the most fun type of person normally, but at least he ought to be trustworthy. That’s worth a lot._ She let her eyes wander onwards, across a classically handsome, almost pretty face, over a neatly trimmed beard, dark brown hair and a pair of serious deep blue eyes. 

_Like what you see, kitten?_ Softpaws asked her. 

_I guess he’s pretty good-looking._

_But?_

_But what? That doesn’t really mean anything in itself, you know._ She sighed quietly as she recalled another face, and a pair of eyes darker than the ones in Anomen’s eager and slightly arrogant face. _That doesn’t mean anything at all._

_Don’t worry, kitten. You’ll find your male in time._

_How do you know that?_

_Cats are good at that. When a cat’s in heat, she will find a way._

_I hardly think that’s the same thing. But thanks anyway. Now let’s try to find out what this guy really wants._

“A warrior priest of Helm, is it?” Zaerini said. “And what makes you so eager to walk the ‘path of virtue’ along with me?”

The man puffed himself up. “My lady, allow me to more fully introduce myself and explain to you the nature of my quest.”

_Quest. Great. Straight out of one of…one of Immy’s knight novels. Even down to the accent. He’ll be expecting me to swoon next._

“My full name is Anomen Delryn,” the man went on, “and I am a squire of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart, and soon to be knighted.” He straightened his back and puffed his chest out even more at this. “I am, of course, an adventurer of no small renown, with several arduous campaigns already behind me, but it is the custom of the Order that all squires should travel without their fellows for some time before they receive the honor of full knighthood. This is to prove their capability, and that their hearts are as pure as their arms are strong. I have no doubt that I shall do splendidly.” 

“Of course,” the bard said with a small grin. The man seemed incredibly convinced of his own magnificence. It was rather amusing actually. _And it reminds me a bit of him._ “So, what are you doing in this place, then?”

“Why, seeking out worthy adventurers of course, my lady!” Anomen frowned with disapproval. “’Tis a depraved and foul place to be sure, but I had hopes that I might still acquire some good companions here. Pray tell, my lady, who are you and your companions and what is the nature of your quest? You look to have been through a grave ordeal, but you are clearly far above the rest of this rabble.” 

Rini looked around at the motley collection of people in various states of drunkenness and unpleasantness and she arched an eyebrow. “That’s nice,” she said. “I am Zaerini of Candlekeep. The big fellow you met earlier is Minsc, and the hamster is Boo. It should all become clear later. The lady next to me is Jaheira, an old friend. And these two are Aerie and Yoshimo, who have only recently joined us.”

Jaheira gave the Helmite a cursory nod, Yoshimo offered a small bow and an enigmatic grin. Aerie smiled shyly and said nothing. 

“As for ‘quest’,” Rini went on, “I mean to rescue my best friend, Imoen. She was taken by the Cowled Wizards, and I’m going to get her back. If that doesn’t put you off, I suppose you’re welcome to come along with us, at least for now. We can always see how things work out, no strings attached, all right?” 

Anomen nodded eagerly. “To rescue a damsel in distress from the clutches of those greedy and power-hungry wizards sounds like a noble goal indeed. I will be pleased to join you.” 

“Great. Well, it’s pretty late, and we were about to get some rooms. How about if you go along with Minsc and handle that? Tomorrow I’m planning to try to find out where Immy might have been taken.” 

Anomen nodded. “It shall be done…and done well. Come, friend Minsc, let us see to acquiring chambers of repose posthaste! Duty waits on no man.” Followed by the large ranger he pushed through the crowd, earning himself more than one dark look as he headed for the bar. 

_Oh dear_ , Rini thought. _I hope I haven’t made a big mistake. He doesn’t seem like a bad sort exactly, but he’s so…so…_

_Knightly?_ Softpaws suggested. 

_Yes. All stiffness and manners and armor polish. Well, at least he’s a Helmite. I’ve yet to hear of a Helmite who makes a habit of sneaking up and murdering people in their beds._

_You never know, somebody has to be the first exception to the rule. And maybe he’s insane. Wanting to join people as scruffy as you has to mean something._

_Ha ha. Very funny. I haven’t exactly had the opportunity to take a proper bath yet, but I will tonight. If they have one that seems safe, that is._

“Child?” Jaheira asked. “Are you certain this is wise?”

The bard shrugged and gave her friend a small smile. “No, of course not. But he’s willing to help, and that has to count for something. Right now, we need all the help we can get. We’ll see what happens, hopefully he won’t be a complete disaster.” 

From the bar Anomen’s raised voice could be heard as he demanded ‘proper respect as a member of the Order’. The barkeeper seemed amused by this idea.

“Yes,” Jaheira said. “Hopefully.” 

A little later the same evening Aerie was sitting on her bed, deep in thought. She had been fortunate enough to get a room of her own. The other two women knew each other from before and were happy enough to share, and obviously it would have been very improper for ‘sweet, innocent little Aerie’ to share with any of the men. _Pity, really. It’s been quite some time since I had a proper bedmate. True, men always seem to steal the blankets, but with a little suitable punishment they can be trained out of that. And they do make for good sport. Minsc would be out of the question of course, I’ve laid the innocence on too thick to play that angle. Yoshimo…that one is interesting, but I wonder about him. He keeps giving me these odd looks. I wonder what he suspects? Not the truth, or he would have told, but something. But there is something about him as well. I should investigate that further. Now, Anomen…there’s a promising candidate. Perhaps I should encourage him to court me. He’s exactly the right type, and he would make a fine ally together with Minsc. Perhaps I’d better wait until I know for certain that he’ll stay though. I cannot afford to waste the ‘True Love’ act too early. That’s such a precious one._

Aerie smiled to herself, fluttering her eyelashes as she practiced a look of radiant love. _Oh Anomen…do you r-really love me? Is it…is it really t-true? These…these stumps on my back…they d-don’t make me look homely, do they?_ The smile widened even further as she imagined the likely response to that question. _Oh yes. He’ll be mine. I shouldn’t even have to break a sweat. How about…Oh Anomen! I…I have been th-thinking, and I’ve decided that…that I want you to m-make a woman out of me at l-last! That’s a good one, they tend to lick that one up. Idiots. As if I wasn’t a woman to begin with, as if it was their pathetic pawing that could make me one. The nerve of it all. Though this human obsession with virginity is extremely useful. Odd that they so rarely seem to realize that healing spells are perfectly capable of making that a renewable asset. Not that it should be overdone of course. That’s a trump card, I’m not playing that until it benefits me the most._

Pleased with this decision, the Avariel considered the two other female members of the group. _Jaheira may not exactly like me, but the fact that she believes herself superior to me is proving useful already. She may not let me get away with things in the same manner that Minsc would, but she believes in what she sees and hears. As long as I play my part, she will suspect nothing. The difficult part will be balancing the ‘sweet Aerie’ part so that I don’t put her off too badly while I encourage the boys. That thing about the aching feet was maybe a little too much, but I do need to test my limits after all. But perhaps it is time I asked her for some advice. That should be helpful. She enjoys telling people what to do._

Aerie nodded to herself, and slowly started combing out her hair, humming a sweet little melody to herself as she worked. Beneath the bed a pair of fuzzy little mice peeked out, their glittering black eyes watching in adoration. _Disgusting rodents. Just you wait, you have it coming. And that goes for that miserable hamster as well. Now, my main target. Zaerini. I don’t think she suspects anything, nor does she love me. But she does feel sorry for me. And she’s one who’s used to assuming responsibility for her friends, and she already feels guilty over her lost companion. Yes. Guilt. That is the key, I think. It may not make her love me, but it should help keep me close. And then, once the time is right, and my Mistress gives the signal, I will strike. Now, if only I could run into my own old enemies as well, as my goddess promised me…_

The elf clenched her hands with rage as the humiliating memories flooded back, nearly overwhelming her. _Soon, they will pay. Soon they will pay dearly._ She spotted the two mice who were edging closer, looks of devotion on their tiny faces. “Come here, little ones!” she said in her sweetest voice. “Want me to show you something nice? Something nice for such sweet little mice?” There was the skittering of tiny claws across floorboards, a hastily murmured spell, and a pair of tiny pained squeaks, rapidly cut off. _Finally. Can’t stand that accursed squeaking. When I get my hands on that hamster I will shut it up once and for all, and preferably make Minsc eat it for dinner without knowing._ The elf watched the two mice with a pleased look on her face. They were lying very still, little legs in the air, looks of agony on their tiny furred faces. _Pity I couldn’t have dealt with that little Hellspawn Odesseiron child and that…that_ infuriating _assassin as easily. But it will be all the sweeter for having been forced to wait for so long. I’m really going to have to think up something very special, something that will impress my Mistress with my creativity. Their pain will be music to my ears once I finally catch hold of them. Sweet, sweet music, fit for the Opera. It should be one of those really long performances, the kind that lasts for days._

So caught up was she in this delightful reverie that Aerie was quite startled at the sound of a quiet knock on the door. Smoothly she rearranged her features into a mask of timid innocence, hastily pinching her cheeks to bring out a shy blush. “Y-yes?” she called out, making her voice a little tremulous. “Who…who is it?” 

“Only I, little fox,” came the answer from outside. “Only Yoshimo. May I speak with you?”

_Fox? That doesn’t sound too good._ As the Avariel pulled the door open, she made certain to smile timidly at the dark form rogue waiting outside in the shadows, looking up at him through long eyelashes. “Oh…Yoshimo! I…I was just about to go to b-bed…I’m very weary. But…but if I can help you with something…” 

“That Yoshimo does not know,” the bounty hunter said. He was smiling that good-natured smile Aerie had seen him use before, but her instincts were all screaming loud warnings at her. That smooth face reminded her far too much of her own, and his slanted dark eyes were unreadable. “Perhaps you can, little fox. Perhaps not. But he is interested in finding out, all the same.” 

Have to keep the act up. I may be wrong, and as long as I am uncertain I mustn’t give anything away. “Please…,” Aerie said, tilting her head to one side. “Come in. I…I do n-not know how I can h-help you, but I would like to try. I like helping people.” _Preferably into a shallow, unmarked grave._

Yoshimo’s smile never wavered as he stepped inside the room, shutting the door behind him. “Of that, little fox, I have no doubts. Now, let us talk. I believe we have much to discuss.”


	10. The First Deal

**Cards Reshuffled 10 – The First Deal**

_The cards express themselves symbolically, and that means that their meanings can be difficult to ascertain. The cards never lie but interpreting them properly is the task of the Reader. If you wish to become fully proficient with them, you should practice Reading frequently, and definitely do so in times of trouble._

_Excerpt from ‘The Chaltar Deck Of Cards – Advanced Studies’_

The deck of cards felt heavy in her hands, heavier than she recalled it. Zaerini frowned to herself as she watched the cards, dexterously shuffling the deck using only her left hand while the other stroked the soft fur of her familiar. She wasn’t entirely certain she wanted to do this, but she had to. 

“Are you certain you are up to this, child?” Jaheira asked. The druid was sitting cross-legged on the bed, her green eyes filled with concern though her face remained impassive. “You still are not entirely recovered from our ordeal.” 

“Maybe…but I don’t really have a choice. If I can learn anything through the cards, about where to find Immy or…or Irenicus…then I have to try. You understand that, don’t you?”

Jaheira nodded. “Yes. Yes, I do. Just…try to be careful.” She sighed. “Though I do not know why I even bother saying that. You never are anyway.” 

“Sure I’m careful!”

“Really? When?”

“Well…er…I sure I must have been _sometimes_!” 

The druid smiled briefly. “Just go on with it, child. You need your rest. I will keep watch.” 

Rini nodded, trying not to show any of the nervousness she felt. “Right. In…in a moment then.” _Irenicus…I wish I could remember that reading he forced me to do for him. I have a feeling it’s important…_

_Maybe_ , Softpaws said. _But you can do nothing about it now. You can do this._

_Yes. I know._

Taking a deep breath, the half-elven bard picked the first few cards her fingers touched from within the deck, spreading them out on the tattered red cover on her bed. Holding her breath with excitement, she stared at the painted shapes in front of her. _Show me what I need to know, whatever it may be. Help me find my way._

First lay the Moon, with the Hermit Inverted. Then the Star coupled with Justice Inverted. The Fool and the Knight of Rods with the Archmage. The Lovers. Finally, The Rogue, coupled with the Road of Destiny. 

As she stared at the cards with aching eyes, Rini felt her field of vision narrowing, until the painted figures started moving, spinning towards her as darkness reared all around. It’s working! I still can do this! Then the tiny bedroom in the Copper Coronet was gone, and she was in another place entirely. 

-*-

Rini found herself floating in an empty void, with darkness all around her. She was weightless, and able to move freely, or so it seemed. But she could see nothing whatsoever, and she could sense no wind against her skin as she moved, so she might as well have been still. But then there was a light, a pale and sickly white light as the Moon rose above her, a narrow scimitar against a black and starless sky. She was standing on solid ground now, but the land was barren and lifeless. She shivered in air that was suddenly freezing cold and watched the black silhouette of a bat flutter past the moon. _I don’t much like this. The Moon isn’t a very good card and…hey! Who’s that?_ There was a figure coming towards her, cloaked and hooded, its face and even its gender impossible to discern in the concealing garment. The Hermit. The figure was carrying a tall staff, and a lantern was hanging from the staff, but the light was insignificant against the encroaching darkness. 

“Do you know who I am?” the Hermit asked, in a low whisper. Rini didn’t recognize the voice, it was almost inaudible. And yet, she got the nagging feeling that she should recognize it, that there was something very familiar about it. 

“The Hermit,” she said. “What have you come to tell me?” 

“Wrong!” the Hermit hissed, and now there was definitely something malevolent in the voice. “The card was inverted, fool girl. Do you not know what that means?”

“Treachery,” the half-elf whispered. “Treachery and deceit.”

“Yessss…that is so. I am not who you think I am. I have secrets.”

“Everybody has secrets.”

“Little idiot! Do you forget the Moon? That card means danger. Danger from enemies unknown, from sweet and succulent lies poured into willing ears, danger from betrayal.” 

“You will try to betray me then. And I suppose you won’t tell me whom you represent? Or if I have met you yet, in the waking world?”

“Of course not! Even now I plot and plan, and my plans are my own. But you will learn of them when the time is right. Oh yes. You will learn…” The cloaked figure started laughing quietly, a terrible high-pitched giggle, and as Zaerini watched, the Moon started laughing as well. Its voice was cold and inhuman, hurting her ears, and it was coming towards her, closer and closer. _The Moon…it’s changing color! It’s red…as red as blood._ She fought for breath, trying to scream, as the two cards melted away into the shadows and the laughter receded behind her. 

_Wow_ , Rini thought when all was finally quiet again. _This isn’t starting too well, is it? But I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised that somebody’s out to get me. Seems that’s been the case since I left Candlekeep._

Now another scene appeared before her. A slight female figure, sparkling with diamond-bright light, was kneeling on the floor. She was pretty, and there was an open smile on her lips. But the smile faded, her light dimmed, as a ring of swords appeared around her, their shadows forming prison bars. Behind them a stern figure stood, tall and with a cold and distant face, sexless in appearance. It held a shining sword in one hand, a set of balance scales in the other. But the scales were weighted down, a mass of glittering gold coins dragging them towards the ground. _Justice Inverted. Injustice. And the Star…_ As if she had heard the half-elf’s thoughts, the Star turned her head towards Zaerini, and now her smile was sad. “You will try,” she said. “I know you will. But you will try in vain. This is not the way. If Justice is unjust, then the Unjust must bring justice.” 

“What? I don’t understand…” 

“You will, sister. You will. Now go! Others await you!” The light of the Star winked out completely, and as Rini stumbled forward she found herself elsewhere. 

Three men stood in a circle, watching each other. The Knight of Rods was tall and strong, wearing armor that glittered like silver, and he carried a heavy club across his shoulder. Next to him the Archmage waited, the deep cowl of his robe concealing his face entirely. For that matter, Rini couldn’t see much of him at all, he was half-hidden in the shadows. The third was the Fool, a tiny figure in brightly colored clothing, resembling a miniature rainbow. He winked at her, gifting her with a twisted grin. “Finally!” he said. “Here I thought I was going to have to spend eternity coped up with these two, and they’re no fun company, let me tell you. Just keep glaring and sniping at each other, trading insults as if they were turnips.” 

“Er…turnips?” Rini asked, feeling even more confused than before. “What turnips? And why are they insulting each other?”

The Fool chuckled to himself. “You know, that reminds me of a story. It concerns my second cousin Hilda, and her two eager suitors. One was a griffin and the other a dragon, and when they…” 

“Shut up!” the Knight of Rods and the Archmage said in unison, and then they seemed even more put out about having agreed about something. “We have put up with this for long enough,” the Knight of Rods said. “One more word out of you and I shall be forced to teach you proper behavior in the presence of your betters!” 

“Don’t tell me that includes you, Sir Abominable,” the wizard sneered. “The only creatures I might possibly classify as subordinate to you would be the lice crawling all over your unwashed body, getting slowly poisoned by your stench.” 

“Why you….”

“Hey!” Zaerini interrupted, getting rapidly annoyed. “Is there a point to all of this?” 

“Sure there is!” the Fool cheerfully said. “Despite what these two might like, you need us all. We’re all in this together for a long time. Won’t that be fun?” 

The Knight and the Archmage groaned audibly, even as they faded. They didn’t sound as if they thought it was fun at all. 

Rini hardly had the time to blink before yet another card appeared before her. This time it was the Lovers, and the card certainly lived up to its title. A male and a female form were entwined in a close embrace, one that started out tender but rapidly grew more and more…heated. It was funny though – their faces seemed fuzzy, as if they were covered in mist. _What the…why am I being shown this? Not that it isn’t very interesting, it reminds me of some of those books Gorion never knew that I was reading…_ Suddenly the face of the female cleared and the bard gaped at it in surprise. The female Lover had her own determined face, with its glittering golden eyes, its mischievous smile and lightly pointed ears, her own flame-red hair, currently rather long and shaggy, and reaching her shoulders. It seemed to be her own body as well, and she had a very good view of it, from various angles as the Lovers shifted positions. The half-elf felt a hot blush creeping up her cheeks. _I’m sure there’s some obscure, perfectly dull and dry symbolical meaning to this. It doesn’t have to mean that I…that I’m going to…and who is that I’m with, anyway? I want to see his face…_ She shifted about, trying to get a closer look at the man, but before she could do so the scene flickered and disappeared. _Awwww…and it looked like I was having fun too…not that I intend to do anything like that of course. Not really. Not unless it happened to be with…well…him. Even if I’m still furious with him. And even if I’m never going to see him again. But somehow that makes no difference…_

The bard was so lost in these thoughts that it took her a few moments to realize that another image had appeared before her. It was a road, a long and winding road of fine silver dust, and she was standing in the middle of it. Somebody could be seen in the distance, rapidly walking along the road in her direction. As the person came closer, she recognized him, though she had no idea what it was supposed to mean. “Oh,” the Rogue said and stopped in front of her. “It’s you again.” He didn’t sound exactly hostile, but not quite friendly either. Rini watched him for a moment, trying to figure out what was going on. She saw a tall man wearing black, with no obvious weapons to be seen, but still with a sense of lethality about him that was rather unsettling. Currently, the look on his sharp face was one of mild annoyance. “Well?” he asked. “What do you want? In case you did not notice, I was quite busy.” 

“Adahn?” Rini asked, rather annoyed with how the rogue had once again made her lose her composure. “Is that you? What are you doing here?” As she had noticed about him before, there was something annoyingly familiar about him, something that was just out of sight. 

“That isn’t really my name, you know,” the Rogue said, smirking. 

“It isn’t? Well, what is your name then?”

“Oh no. I’m not telling you that now. You’re simply going to have to wait until we can be properly introduced. I so look forward to that.” 

Something about the way he said that made a cold shiver run down Rini’s back. “Properly introduced? By whom?” 

“Really now, “the Rogue said. “I thought you cleverer than that. Let us just say ‘by a mutual friend’, I wouldn’t want to strain your mind with too much information at once.” 

“What’s your problem anyway? Why are you acting so snide? I never did anything to you.” 

A cold look crept into the man’s eyes, and as he took a step forward, she involuntarily took a step back. “Didn’t you?” he said, in a smooth voice dripping menace. “And why should I believe that? I am really not the most trusting of people, you know, and definitely not these days. You have caused me a great deal of inconvenience, so for your sake I certainly hope that you didn’t intend to. But we will certainly have more time to speak about that later, at length.” 

“But I don’t understand…” 

“Obviously not,” the Rogue said, pointing at the silver road in front of him. “Then please allow me to explain. This, dear girl, is the Road of Destiny. You do remember picking that card, don’t you?” 

“Yes, but…” 

“And that means that we have an appointment at some point in the future.” He smiled at her; a smile uncomfortably reminiscent of fangs. “You, I, and our ‘mutual friend’. We have many things to discuss, so I’m sure it will please you to know that I always keep my appointments, unlike certain other people.” 

For some reason, that didn’t really please Zaerini at all to know. She also seriously doubted that saying so would make much difference. 

_Meanwhile…_

Aerie folded her hands in the wide sleeves of her yellow and orange robe as she seated herself on the bed, smiling innocently at Yoshimo. _Look unthreatening, that is the key._ The bounty hunter was leaning against the wall on the far side of the room, watching her cautiously with his dark and slanted eyes. He was fingering the hilt of his katana in what looked like an idle gesture, but the Avariel didn’t doubt for one second that he meant it as a warning. “Y-yes, Yoshimo?” she asked. “What was it you…you wanted to talk to me about? Do you…do you need some healing?” _He suspects something, I know it. Just let him put his faith in me and I’ll soon hold his heart in my hands. Literally._

Yoshimo smiled, a brief grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No, little fox. I try to take good care of myself, I do not need your healing.”

“Why…why do you call me that?”

“Little fox?” Yoshimo cocked his head curiously to one side. “Ah, that is a story in itself, little fox. In Kozakura, my home, there are the creatures we know as the fox ladies. Beautiful women they look like, with flowing silver hair, glittering eyes and sharp little teeth between lips as red as blood. But they are not real women, they are the spirits of foxes, and they are not friends of men. With their sweet voices and their sweet smiles, they gather the men around themselves like flies around a honey pot, yes? But this honey is poison, and the fox ladies are hollow inside, like old and rotting tree stumps. They will eat the souls of men, leaving them empty shells like themselves. They remind me of you, little fox. Or perhaps you remind me of them.” 

“M-me? But I…” 

“But what, little fox? Do you not have a pretty little face and a pretty little voice? And do you not know how to use them well, to sing your sad little songs?” Yoshimo’s customary relaxed attitude had given way to something else now, a wary tension. He didn’t take his eyes off Aerie for one second. “Yoshimo is a hunter of bounties,” he said. “And should he have to, he will not mind hunting foxes.”

_Should I kill him now?_ Aerie wondered. _No. Not yet. First I must find out exactly what he knows, or thinks he knows._ “You…you are frightening me!” she cried out, putting her hand across her mouth as she allowed her eyes to widen with fear. “Why are you s-saying such horrid things to m-me?” 

“Very good, little fox,” the bounty hunter said, once again with that good-natured smile. “You are very, very good. But with me, there is no need for singing. Whatever your game is, know this. You may sing to the ranger and the priest, should you desire it. To the druid as well. But you will not cause harm to our fiery young leader. I will not allow it, do you understand? Her well-being is important to me, and I will do anything within my power to see that she safely reaches her lost friend. Anything.”

The world stood still for a moment, suspended between one breath and the next. Aerie stared into those dark eyes in front of her, trying to read the man’s emotions, but his eyes were like mirrors, reflecting everything, revealing nothing. _Could it be? Does he have feelings for the Bhaalspawn? It is possible…but I had not got that sense before, and I can usually tell. What else then? What game is he playing? He claims not to want me to harm her – but what of his own intentions? Perhaps the Shadow Thieves are not content with watching from a distance? It would make sense that they would have an agenda of their own, one not necessarily coinciding with the Bhaalspawn’s best interests, and it is suspicious that they would offer their help as they did. And he is a rogue. The Shadow Thieves might think that nobody will suspect him, a seeming outsider of being their agent. I must be patient. It would be premature to act now, he suspects something but knows little, and I must learn what I can of him in turn. And when I know more, then he will regret not slaying me outright._ “I…d-don’t understand what you mean,” Aerie said, making her voice timid and small. “You…you scare me.”

Yoshimo nodded briefly. “Good,” he said, giving her a small bow. “If that is true, then we need not trouble each other. But I think you understand very well, and I hope you will remember this talk, little fox.” He drifted out the door, chuckling quietly to himself. 

Aerie slowly exhaled, clenching her fists along her sides. _Oh, I will. I will remember it all, and when I have you screaming in front of me, I will repeat this conversation back to you, word for word. But no time for fantasy now. I have no time to lose._

Hardly had the door closed behind the bounty hunter before Aerie hurriedly cast a spell, disappearing from sight as she cloaked herself in invisibility. _He will expect me to huddle in here, wrapped up in resentment, anger, even fear. He will expect me to lick my wounds, and dream of revenge. But he will not expect me to act, not so quickly._ Another spell, and the shadowy image of the corridor outside appeared before her inner eye, Yoshimo’s form outlined in bright red as he disappeared down the back stairs. Satisfied, the Avariel let the divination fade so it wouldn’t interfere with her regular vision, and then quietly slipped outside. _Pity I do not have my wings at the moment, as willing as I was to sacrifice them for my Mistress. It would have been very entertaining to descend upon him from above._

A short while later Aerie hurried up the stairs again, feeling extremely pleased with herself. If she could move swiftly enough, she would get exactly what she wanted. Yoshimo had been too arrogant, trusting in his ability to intimidate her and in his ability to conceal his own activities. _Unwise of him to do so. I have crossed weapons with worse than him. Oh yes. Far, far worse._ Giggling quietly to herself Aerie pounded hurriedly on the door to Zaerini’s room, making herself look frantic with worry. Within moments she could hear footsteps inside. 

“Who is it?” the bard asked. She sounded wary, cautious. That was good; it should put her in the proper frame of mind. 

“It…it is I, Aerie! Please, oh please, you m-must open quickly! We are in terrible d-danger!” 

The door was hastily pulled open and the half-elf looked out, her golden eyes shining in the gloomy corridor like those of some sleek predator. She looked tired, she had dark circles beneath her eyes, and her hair was mussed. “Aerie?” she said. “What’s wrong?” Behind her Jaheira appeared, giving the elf a disapproving look. 

“It…is Yoshimo! Oh, please come quickly! I saw him go outside and…and…please come!” _That sounds about right. A little disjointed, panicked but determined to do the right thing._

“Yoshimo?” Jaheira snapped. “What about him? Speak, girl, quickly!” 

“He…he is t-talking to somebody outside, somebody bad. Hurry, you may c-catch him yet!” 

The two half-elves exchanged a hurried look, and then Jaheira snarled out a curse. “Damned bounty hunter! I knew we should not have trusted him!” 

“Never mind,” the redhead cut her off. “We have no time to argue. Aerie, show us. Quietly.” 

Smiling inwardly behind her frightened face, the Avariel nodded and turned around, running so swiftly down the stairs that her feet barely touched them. Once the three women had pushed through the crowd in the common room, they found themselves in the dark street outside. The smell of refuse and filth was nauseating, and rats scurried here and there searching for food. “Over th-there,” Aerie said in an almost inaudible voice, trusting that her companions would be able to hear her even if their ears weren’t quite as sensitive as those of a real elf. “Can you…can you s-see him?” She extended a small hand, pointing into the shadows at the two shapes she could see there, hidden in a dark alley, indistinct human forms, glowing bright red as her eyes discerned their body heat. 

Zaerini nodded, and for a moment her eyes flared with even brighter fire than before. Then her form shifted and blurred, to be replaced by that of a red cat, its fur the exact color of her hair. The animal slipped into the shadows, as quietly as one of them. Jaheira’s mouth narrowed, and then she made a rapid gesture, following her friend’s example. Her face elongated, sprouting fur, growing larger ears and sharp fangs. Then a wolf stood where she had stood, watching Aerie with glittering green eyes. It turned around and glided after the cat. 

_My word…_ the Avariel thought. _That the druid should have such a power is not surprising, but that the Bhaalspawn should do so as well? I had not expected that._ She hurriedly recast her spell of invisibility, and then followed the two shape-changed half-elves towards their intended goal. 

Yoshimo was standing with his back towards the alley mouth, and he was speaking in a quiet voice with a strange woman. Aerie couldn’t see much of her face, since it was hidden in a deep hood, but her low and sultry voice was clearly audible. “You are placed properly in position then?” she asked. “There have been no problems?”

The bounty hunter shrugged briefly. “Nothing of great consequence. I have it all well in hand. Though I should not take too long, or one of them might miss me.” 

“Yes…that would not do. You know your orders?”

“I do. I will watch, remain alert and report Zaerini’s movements back to you.” 

The woman laughed. “That’s a good boy. The ones we both serve will be pleased to hear you are so…obedient.” 

Aerie noticed Yoshimo shifting his feet about a little, as if he were feeling uncomfortable. _Interesting…there are undercurrents here for certain._ “I serve as I am bid,” the Kozakuran said in a stiff voice. “As do you.” 

Another brief laugh. “Not quite the same, as we both know. But come now…tell me what Zaerini’s next plans are.” 

“She is impulsive,” Yoshimo said, his voice neutral once more. “She may change her mind, but as of now her intention is to speak with the Cowled Wizards on the morrow, to try to learn where her friend Imoen is being held. After that, I assume she will seek some way of raising the money Bayle demands.” 

“Yes…most probably. You will aid her then, for now. Should that change, you will be told. Good night, Yoshimo. Sweet dreams…” The woman waved briefly, then walked off. 

Yoshimo stood motionless for a moment, staring after her. “I think,” he whispered, “that I may have made a very grave mistake.” 

“Really?” another voice answered him, hot with anger. “Funny coincidence. I _know_ you have.” Despite the darkness Aerie could see the bounty hunter’s face turn gray with shock as Zaerini materialized in front of him, seemingly rising up out of nowhere as she returned to her normal form. Behind her Jaheira appeared. The druid’s teeth were bared in a silent snarl, and she looked as if she were about to rip the Kozakuran’s throat out using only her teeth. “Traitor!” she spat. “Give me one reason why we should not kill you where you stand.” 

“I…” Yoshimo said, for once without a glib line handy. “You do not understand…”

“I think I understand enough,” Zaerini said, drawing her sword. “You were setting me up, selling information. Well, if the Shadow Thieves are such good friends of yours, I suggest you go join them. I don’t ever want to see your face again.” 

“Shadow…Shadow Thieves?” 

“Don’t think I don’t get it. You were so very knowledgeable about them, and I’m sure they’re interested in keeping tabs on me. And they were attacking Irenicus’ torture pit too, where we so conveniently happened to run into you. Did you know you’d find us there, or was it just a lucky break for your masters?” The bard shook her head. “No, don’t bother answering. It makes no difference. I liked you, which shows how stupid I am, I guess. If it hadn’t been for Aerie warning me…” 

“Aerie?!” The bounty hunter had his katana out in a flash, and his accent thickened with anger. “That…that little fiend! What did she say? What did she tell you?” 

Snapping her fingers to dispel the invisibility, Aerie allowed herself a triumphant smile before she appeared to the others. “I…I told her the truth, you…you m-monster! That you are a bad, evil person who cannot be t-trusted! A…a mean, h-horrid liar! It was so lucky I happened to…to see you sneak out here to…to do nasty, wicked things.” _Yes. So very lucky. Now they will never believe you, no matter what you should try to say about me. You could have spotted me performing the secret rites of Loviatar herself, and they still would not trust in your word._

Rage and incredulity flickered across Yoshimo’s face for a moment. “You…have the gall to…” Then he composed himself again. “Very well, little fox. I concede, for now. Zaerini, I know this looks…compromising…but everything is not as it seems. If you should wish to speak with me at some later time, Bernard at the Coronet will know where to find me. Unless you wish to fight me now?”

“No,” the half-elf said in a stony voice. “I don’t. Just…get out of here.” She murmured something to herself that sounded like ‘Looks like the Moon and the Hermit were just around the corner.’ Aerie frowned. She had no idea what that meant, and she didn’t like that. 

Yoshimo nodded, and then bowed to all three women in turn. Aerie was pleased to notice that the bow she received was the deepest of them all. “I will see you again, perhaps. My congratulations, little fox. You have earned Yoshimo’s respect, if not his gratitude.” He turned around, and within moments he had disappeared within the shadows. 

“Thank you, Aerie,” Zaerini said after a moment, smiling faintly at the Avariel. “I must admit, I wouldn’t have thought you capable of a thing like this. Well done.” 

_Yes! I am in! She may not love me yet, but this will certainly help make her trust me._ “I…I am s-simply happy I was able to h-help,” the elf said, smiling modestly. _And that I was able to rid myself of a dangerous opponent. From now on, you are mine._ “And…and now we’re all going to be such good friends! I just know it!” _Right up until the moment I start flaying your skin off, inch by inch, my little ‘friend’. But for now, I want you to trust me. Both of you. Trust is such a beautiful, fragile thing. And I love breaking beautiful fragile things, particularly live ones._


	11. The Witching Hour

**Cards Reshuffled 11 – The Witching Hour**

_I would like to take this opportunity to point out that I was in no way responsible for that ridiculous alias. I do not employ theatrical code names on par with ‘Greywolf’ or ‘Blood Nose’ or ‘Ravager’. Alas, it seems that certain other people felt the need for some sort of ‘Scary, Evil Name’. That is enemies for you. If they cannot kill you, they can always embarrass you._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

Serenstina Tershar wasn’t a trusting woman by nature. This trait had been further augmented by doing undercover work for two decades, frequently venturing into enemy territory to gather information for her superiors. She knew how to take care of herself, and while she had faced off against more than one dangerous opponent, she also had managed to avoid open confrontation with thrice as many, a very important trait in a spy. Of course, she knew that the other side knew who she really was, but that made no difference as long as the individual enemy was unable to identify her. Yes, she was confident in her own abilities. And yet, this mission was…puzzling her. 

She had killed in the course of duty, more than once and without question. She had once stolen heavily guarded military plans from within the lair of a highly dangerous Red Wizard, that mission had earned her plenty of praise. Dozens of foes had made attempts at her life, many of them skilled and dangerous ones, and here she still was. So why had she been sent on this mission, one that seemed ludicrously unimportant? 

One of her sisters had disappeared, a young _Wychlaran_ named Dynaheir Rasarion, only recently risen to the rank of a full sister. What the woman had been doing in this godforsaken part of Faerun known as ‘The Sword Coast’ Serenstina did not know, and her cautious questions had been met with cold and terse answers. Dynaheir had been assigned to watch somebody, for reasons Serenstina needn’t know. Only the briefest description of the person in question had been provided her, and a name. Zaerini of Candlekeep. Then, Dynaheir had disappeared without a trace, her target with her, and now the Higher Ups had decided that Serenstina was the perfect woman to go and find her. 

_She might be dead, for all I know. And she is a nobody, fairly inexperienced. If they knew this was going to be a dangerous mission, why send her? Unless of course they didn’t know and got a nasty surprise. They don’t like getting surprised, and they would never admit it._

Serenstina sniffed quietly, smoothing her dark green mage robe down as she sat at the table of her room in the Helm and Cloak Inn. True, her superiors were formidable among the Witches of Rasheman, but most of them had little or no field experience. They gave their orders, and expected them to be carried out, having no idea of the difficulties involved, and though she respected them for their power and authority she also felt a little twinge of contempt now and then. None of them had ever faced off against a Thayvian lich, seeing their own death reflected in the red pinpoints of light that made up the creature’s eyes. But she had, and she had lived to tell the tale. None of them had ever woken up to find their partner staring back with empty eyes, sleeping the sleep from which you do not awaken right there in the bed they both shared. But she had. 

She had known that mission to be dangerous from the start, an undercover excursion deep into enemy territory, and of course she had known that having their cover blown would prove fatal. That was par for the course, and the same fate that would find enemy agents prowling around inside Rasheman. But she had been so certain they had covered their tracks, so certain that their wards and defenses would protect them even in a worst-case scenario. She had believed herself to have taken all necessary precautions and then some, and before they retired on that final fatal evening, she had reassured her sister Witch that there was no need for concern. Then, she had gone to sleep, and there had been not a single disturbance until she awakened in the morning to see those glassy dead eyes staring straight into hers and touched flesh that was already beginning to turn cold and stiff. 

_In a way, that was even more frightening than the lich. I just went on sleeping, hearing nothing, suspecting nothing, even as that monster slew poor Tasya._

She had fled then, certain that she would be dead before the even reached the Thayvian border, but nothing had happened. There had been no sign of the silent killer, the one that she later learned that her superiors had codenamed ‘the Wraith’. _Why not me?_ She had asked her Othlor that question over and over again, until the old woman had finally snapped out an answer. _Because you were not important enough to merit killing. Or because his orders did not include your death. Or because leaving you alive would allow you to return home, and your tale would taunt us and have a bad impact on our morale. Or perhaps all three. But whatever the case, you will never speak of this to anybody without express permission, or you will wish the Wraith had killed you. We cannot allow for news of this to get out. Do you understand?_

Serenstina understood. By now she had created quite a reputation of her own, and she did not doubt that the Red Wizards of Thay had hushed down news of her own exploits more than once. It was all part of the Great Game. But now the rules of the game were changing, and that she didn’t like at all. There were…whispers…coming down from the highest reaches of power, the most exalted of her sisters. Whispers of somebody only known as the _Oluanna_ , the Favored One. Favored of whom? Serenstina did not know. The most powerful of the _Wychlaran_ had always played their power games between themselves, all the while pretending that the chieftains of Rasheman were the rulers of the nation in fact as well as in appearance. The truth was far different, as the witches were mistresses of all they surveyed, the absolute rulers of Rasheman, with power over life and death, over every soul within her border. _Now, what would make the old biddies wish to share the highest power with some newcomer? How did she rise so high, so fast? What is so special about that one, and what are her plans for Rasheman?_

The Witch frowned as this thought crossed her mind, rubbing her firm chin. She cared deeply about her country and wanted to serve to the best of her capability. Right now, she was uncertain whether she was doing that or not, and it disturbed her that she did not know where her current orders were coming from. _But I have no choice but to go along, and to learn what I can. Disobedience means death, and that rule does not apply to the peasants alone. And the alternative would be even more unthinkable, exiling myself voluntarily from my connection with the spirits of the land. No, I will do as I am bid. I do not have to like it though._

She was getting rather hungry by now, and so it was with great appreciation that she saw her bodyguard Talen enter the room, carrying a tray in one enormous hand. The man had more muscles than he knew what to do with, but that suited her very well. “Put it there,” she said, pointing at the table, and then she waved Talen outside. Flexing her fingers to warm them up she then proceeded to cast a spell to detect poison. Green tendrils of magic spiraled out from her fingertips towards the plate of food and the carafe of fruit juice standing on the tray. The magic pooled around the food, insinuating itself inside it, then dissipated. The color had never changed, and that meant she could eat safely. _You cannot be too careful. There are many who would pay dearly to have me dead._

With a contented smile, Serenstina tied a napkin around her throat, feeling her mouth water as she savored the lovely smell of her dinner. There were thin slices of lamb, freshly baked bread, some boiled vegetables, and a thick red sauce that smelled wonderful. Sweet and spicy all at once. Licking her lips, she shoveled a big bite into her mouth. Then she screamed. Or rather, she tried to. 

Spontaneous combustion is a rare thing, but it does happen, and at that moment Serenstina felt certain that it was happening to her. Her tongue, her throat, the roof of her mouth, they all felt as if they had suddenly caught fire, and she was certain there was smoke coming out of her ears and that the top of her head was about to fly off, rising on a pillar of flame. “Yarrrrrghhhh…” she gargled, tears streaming down her face. Then she spotted the juice, got to her feet, grabbed the carafe and immediately proceeded to pour its contents down her throat. She had gone half-way before she started to notice that the juice had an odd taste to it, and by then it was too late. She was already feeling pleasantly relaxed, drifting in a pink and fuzzy world of serenity. Giggling, she sat down heavily on her chair, blowing bubbles with her own saliva. She hardly noticed when the door opened, and a stranger entered the room. 

“Greetings, _Wychlaran_ ,” the man said, with a contemptuous bite to his voice. “I trust you found your dinner agreeable. I would hate to have given you less than perfect service, oh Exalted One.”

“Who….” Serenstina muttered, trying to focus her eyes. Her vision seemed extremely blurry, she couldn’t see the stranger’s face properly, and she only got an impression of a tall dark shape towering over her as she sat there. That and the voice, the hypnotically smooth and composed voice. “How…did you…” He was speaking in the tongue of her homeland, but how was that possible? There should be no other Rashemite agents around this part of the world and were he an agent of Rasheman he surely wouldn’t have done…this. Whatever this was. 

“Who I am? Please, do give me some credit. I’m not about to introduce myself to you, even if I doubt you’ll remember anything afterwards. As for ‘how’, I suppose I can satisfy your curiosity. Your habits are known to me, Witch. But what you perhaps don’t know is that distilled essence of pepper isn’t a poison as such, and so will not be detected by your spell. Spells like that frequently have loopholes, and I do so enjoy exploiting loopholes. The same goes for the extremely rare potion I slipped into your drink, even though that one has a rather nasty taste. Still, I suppose the seasoning I added to your food made you desperate enough not to notice, didn’t it? Despite the fact that I used the entire bottle?” He had pulled out a chair by now and was sitting backwards on it opposite her, resting his arms against the back. His face was still only a blur, but the voice suggested a definite smirk. “And now, let us talk. The potion you drank made you extremely suggestible, as I’m sure you’ve already noticed.” The voice lowered, caressing her ears, sending tendrils of pleasure down her spine. “You are feeling calm, content and relaxed. Everything is in perfect order. Isn’t that so, Serenstina?”

“Yessss…order…calm…”

“And I am your dear and trusted friend, Serenstina. You trust me implicitly. You are very happy that I am here.” 

“Happy…so happy…” And she was, she had a wide smile on her face and could hardly contain her tears of joy. 

“Good. And you want to share your secrets with me, don’t you?” 

Such a lovely, lovely voice… “OH YES! YES!” 

“Very good. Go on then. Tell me everything you know about your mission.” 

Serenstina started talking, going faster and faster, almost tripping over her own words at times. It was of vital importance that she should not forget anything whatsoever and that she make a proper presentation. Her beloved friend listened with great interest to everything she was saying, and she felt so proud to be able to captivate him like that. She described how she had tracked the Witch Dynaheir here to Baldur’s Gate, where she had apparently joined up with a group of people credited with having recently saved the city from a terrible fate. Dynaheir’s target, Zaerini, had been their leader, and the rumors about that one had been abundant. There had been a few brief missions after the fall of Sarevok, but then, the group had left the city, traveling for the library fortress of Candlekeep. “They never got there,” Serenstina said in a monotonous voice. “I followed their trail, and the tracks ended in the middle of the forest. There were signs of a battle, but no bodies. No blood.” 

“Indeed?” her dear friend said, sounding a little worried. “And you have no idea who was involved?” 

“No…I am sorry. I did a scrying, but I saw only vague and shadowy shapes. I…I think there may have been undead present. I could only determine that neither Dynaheir nor any of her companions died in that spot, for that would have shown up in the scrying. They were taken though, of that I have no doubt, and so far, I have been unable to learn where they went. Except…” 

“Yes?” 

“There was the magical residue from a portal spell on the site. It was mostly faded, but I believe the captives were taken south.”

“Is that the best you can do? How far south?”

“Not…too far. Definitely across the Amnian border though. I cannot say more than that.” 

“Hmm…” the man said. “Very well. The other trail is leading in that direction anyway…do you have anything else of interest to tell me?” 

For a moment Serenstina hesitated, as some deeply buried core of her tried to resist. “I…can’t…” 

Black eyes bored into hers as her beloved friend bent forwards, his nose almost touching hers. “I beg your pardon?”

“I…I…”

“You wish to help me,” the voice went on, stroking her brain until it quivered with pleasure. “You want that more than anything else in the world. Now speak.” 

As if a gate had broken inside her mind, the Witch started babbling again, telling all she knew, all her speculations about the new power arising in Rasheman. She was distressed to see that her beloved friend seemed disturbed by this news. “I had not heard of this before,” he said. “I agree with you, it is extremely worrying. Right now, there is little either of us can do about it though.” He smiled pleasantly at her. “You have been most helpful, _Wychlaran_. I thank you for your aid. And I am sure you’ll be equally happy to know that you’ll be allowed to go on existing. As tempting as it would be to kill you, your disappearance would draw even more attention from your superiors, and I do not want their greedy eyes turned this way if I can help it. Consider yourself lucky. The potion will wear off in another hour or so, and you will remember nothing of this conversation or that it even took place. Do you understand?”

“I…will remember…nothing…” 

“Just so.” The man rose and walked towards the door. “Oh, and I had to dispose of your bodyguard on the way in, I’m afraid. You will find his body hidden under the bed in the adjoining room, in case you should be interested. Good day to you.” 

Serenstina smiled happily to herself, toying idly with her fork as the door closed behind the lovely person who had just…wait…what person? There hadn’t been anybody here. Nobody at all. She was being silly, jumping at shadows. After all, she was a powerful Witch, and not even the Wraith would be able to get to her without her noticing. 

As he headed out into the dark streets of Baldur’s Gate, Dekaras thought about what the Witch had said. The news was troubling, in more than one way. Over the years he had tried his best to keep track of what was happening in his former homeland, but this new power was the most disturbing thing yet. _The Witches were always powerful, but they also always squabbled among themselves, at least to some extent. If there is somebody guiding them all as one force, the consequences could be dire indeed. And a person able to take control of all Rasheman must be extremely dangerous. I do not like to think of what she might be planning. There is nothing I can do about it right now, though._

Then there was that other bit of news. Undead, abducting Zaerini and her friends? He had no way of knowing for exactly what purpose, but it was unlikely to be anything pleasant. _At least Edwin wasn’t with them at the time. Shame about the others though, particularly little Imoen._ Dekaras sighed briefly. He had really liked that girl, but it didn’t seem as if there was anything he could do for her. _Still, you never know. Edwin’s trail is leading south, and it may be that it will take me into Amn. I could always keep my eyes open for the rest of them, but I must locate the boy before I do anything else. And then we need to have a long talk about the keeping of set appointments._

A fleeting smile crossed the assassin’s sharp-featured face as he increased his pace a little. It felt good to have a clear goal again. As the moon passed out from behind the clouds, it illuminated the street he was walking down, glistening in the cobblestones to make it resemble a road of shining moonlight, one that would take him straight to his goal. _Find Edwin before anything else, and then we will see what happens._ Heading towards the southern gate, he could feel the blood rushing just a little faster through his veins. The hunt was on.


	12. Law and Chaos

**Cards Reshuffled 12 – Law and Chaos**

_While I certainly have friends of many different kinds, and like and respect them for themselves, there is something to be said for meeting a true kindred spirit, somebody whose view of the world is utterly comprehensible, matches yours exactly and never baffles you in the least._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“What do you mean you don’t know?!” Zaerini shouted in the red and flustered face of an Athkatlan government official. The man was short and skinny and had neatly combed and shiny hair, as well as neat little wire framed spectacles, a neat and spotless white shirt, neat and polished shoes and a neat and worried little face. He was a person most comfortable collecting various forms from applicants, and then quietly burying them in an archive, much like a squirrel collects nuts for the approaching winter only to forget about them. He was not a person well equipped for dealing with an angry Bhaalspawn half-elf who right now was looking as if she wanted to rip his throat out. 

“I…I don’t know, miss!” the official said in a haughty voice. “And may I add that this is most irregular! According to the Laws of the city, missing person reports must be filed according to form 447B, including the appendixes. They may then be deposited with the proper official, in Line 33 over there.” He pointed at a long and winding line leading up to a marble counter. It didn’t look as if it had moved over the past few days. Some of the people near the front had quietly collapsed and one even seemed to have cobwebs spun all over him. Behind the counter an elderly gray-skinned and thin-lipped woman with her hair in a neat bun sat, not moving a muscle. Her face was very stern and disapproving and she was staring mutely into the far distance. 

Rini took a closer look. The woman was certainly very quiet. “Hey!” she exclaimed. “That clerk is dead!” 

“Ssssssshhhh!” the official hushed her. “That’s Madam Minnykins. She’s one of our most valued employees. Don’t upset her.” 

“Most valued employees? But she’s dead! She isn’t letting any of the applicants through!” Then the bard thought about what she had just said. “Oh. I see. That’s the entire point, isn’t it?”

“Exactly!” the official beamed. “Perhaps you might be suited for a career in administration after all. It’s all about keeping the rabble from interfering with the paperwork.” 

“Look,” Zaerini said, trying not to lose her temper and hit the man in the face. “It’s very simple. I want to find my friend Imoen. You know? The one I’ve been telling you about over the last hour? The one who was abducted by the Cowled Wizards? Are you seriously telling me that you have no idea where they keep their prisoners?” 

“Nobody but the Cowled Wizards knows that, miss,” the man huffed, wiping his spectacles. “Perhaps you ought to ask them rather than harassing honest civil servants. Oh, and you want to buy one of their licenses in case you’re thinking of practicing…magic.” He uttered the last word with a clear air of distaste. “You wouldn’t want to end up like your friend. I believe the going rate is 5000 gold pieces.” 

“5000 GOLD? That’s pure robbery!” 

“It is the going rate. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” The man turned and walked off, staggering under the weight of an enormous heap of pointless paperwork. 

“It seems this is a dead end,” Jaheira said, shaking her head. “What now?”

Rini thought for a moment. She still felt like screaming with frustration, but that would do no good. “We had to at least try,” she said. “Now we’ve done that, and it seems it will get us nowhere. I guess all we can do is try to collect the money Bayle wanted, in any way possible.” 

“A Hero is never short on glorious do-gooder work!” Minsc said, patting the half-elf on the shoulder. “Our arms will soon be overflowing with offers of magnificent deeds to do!” 

“Maybe,” Zaerini said, tiredly pulling her hand through her red hair. “As long as they pay well, I suppose. Finding Immy is more important than anything else. That, and getting ourselves better equipment, I guess, or we’ll stand no chance against…against Irenicus.” 

“Fear not!” Anomen said. “Your noble quest rests safely in my hands, my lady.” He smiled and stroked his beard as he puffed his chest out. “Remind me to tell you all about my campaign against the…” 

“Later, maybe,” Rini said. “Right now, I want to go see if I can find some Cowled Wizards, and then I’ll do my best to pry Immy’s location out of them. Preferably with a crowbar. Or a dull knife. I’m sure it’s a great story but it will simply have to wait. And we still need to find ourselves another thief…” She headed off across the marble floor of the enormous and crowded government building, Jaheira and Minsc flanking her. 

“But…” Anomen said, watching her disconsolately. “The Giants…” 

“Oh Anomen!” Aerie said, taking the squire under the arm and smiling up at him through her eyelashes. “I’m s-sure it is a…a wonderful story. I…I so love tales of pure and n-noble knights. Perhaps you could tell _me_?” 

“Aye, perhaps…” Anomen said, still watching the bard. “But come, we must not lag behind. Heroic deeds wait for no man.” 

“If…if you’re sure…” Aerie said, inclining her head, something that kept Anomen from noticing the dark look in her eyes. 

“Our leader awaits us. We must not tarry o’erlong.” 

As the Avariel trailed after the squire she was feeling more murderous than she had done in a long time. Since this breakfast, actually. 

Zaerini had just finished a brief and very unsatisfactory conversation with a Cowled Wizard who admitted no knowledge of Imoen’s whereabouts and confirmed that the price for a magical license was 5000 gold pieces. _Forget about that_ , she thought. _There’s no way I’m paying that much. I’ll make do in some other way._ As she was about to leave the building a stranger came walking up to her, and he too was wearing the now familiar gray robes of the Cowled Wizards, complete with a deep hood to almost totally obscure his face. 

“Greetings,” he said in a low voice. “I am Madeen of the Cowled Wizards. I overheard you speaking with my colleague just now, about a friend of yours who had been taken into custody?”

“What if you did?” Jaheira asked. “Do you know where to find her?”

The man shook his head. “Not me personally, no. However, my superior, Master Tolgerias might. He is one of the highest masters of our Order.”

“Really?” Rini said with a cynical smile. “And he’d tell us where to find Imoen out of the goodness of his heart, I suppose?”

“Not…quite. You see, Master Tolgerias has asked me to employ some adventurers in order to perform a certain task for him. If you were willing, perhaps he could aid you in return.” 

“If it is a kind deed, then we are glad to help the sprouts of goodness grow all over by spreading the manure of heroism!” Minsc said, beaming brightly at the wizard who watched him with a mixture of fear, disgust and fascination. “But if it is an evil one, then Minsc and Boo will root out all the weeds of villainy with sword and trusty hamster teeth!” There was an affirmative squeak from within his armor. 

“I…cannot speak for Master Tolgerias,” Madeen said, trying to edge away from Minsc without it being too obvious. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “You will have to ask him about the nature of the task he would have you perform. If you are interested, he will soon be home from a brief journey, and you will be able to find him in the Governmental Park at sundown three days hence, feeding the ducks in the pond. He will be wearing a pointy hat and a long beard, and if you ask him ‘Are you by any chance Elminster?’ then he will reply ‘No, Elminster’s beard has chicken bones in it.’ That is how you will know you have the right person. Good day to you.” With that he nodded briefly and slipped away into the crowd. 

“This is all very suspect, my lady,” Anomen told Zaerini in a low voice. “Wizards are untrustworthy scoundrels even under the best of circumstances, you know. They look out for themselves, first and foremost.” 

“Hm,” the bard said, her face darkening. “Sounds familiar. But you know, I never said I’d trust this Tolgerias person. I do want to go see him though, in case he knows something about Immy. We’ll see what he has to say, and then we’ll see what happens.” 

The Government District of Athkatla was by far more pleasant than the dismal slums, and Rini couldn’t help enjoying the sight of the impressive marble buildings and all the richly dressed people scurrying here and there with stacks of papers under their arms and snooty looks of self-importance on their faces. She made a point of passing close by as many of them as she possibly could, and by the time the party entered the Government Park she had already managed to snag two purses, even if they were only moderately heavy, and one nice-looking ring that her expert eye recognized as having protective properties, namely Protection Against Pregnancy. _Might as well sell that one as soon as possible_ , she thought, a melancholy smile on her lips. _I need the money, and it’s not as if I’m going to need it anyway._

She also decided against telling her companions about their small increase in funds. Jaheira would preach, Minsc would be confused about why Heroes needed to steal, Aerie would probably be horrified and Anomen didn’t bear thinking about. _Gods, how I miss Immy. At this point we’d have arranged ourselves a pick-pocketing competition and seen which one of us could have stolen the most in a set time. I bet Yoshimo would have appreciated this as well. Why did he have to double-cross me? I liked him, and I really need somebody to talk to who’s a little more on my level. Jaheira is a good friend, but sometimes she still seems to think that it’s her job to correct me. And Minsc is a great guy, but he doesn’t really appreciate subtleties or trickery. Aerie is…well, I suppose she did reveal what Yoshimo was up to, and I suppose I should be grateful, but she still gets on my nerves. And Anomen…I guess he means well. But what we really need right now is a good thief._

“Are you interested in purchasing a fine bit of merchandise, my friend?” Rini looked down at the sound of the cheerful voice emanating from somewhere around her hip-level. There was a very odd-looking gnome standing there, looking up at her with a twisted grin. He wore what seemed to be a mage-robe, one that glittered and sparkled in a hundred different colors; all of them loud, and which made him resemble a very small rainbow. This didn’t seem to be a regular wizard though, as he was hauling a cart taller than himself, loaded with various odd contraptions. None of them were quite so odd as the strange crossbow he was wearing though, a weapon that had been modified, upgraded and reinvented so many times that it could hardly be called a simple crossbow anymore. Devastating Machine of Doom seemed a better bet. Rini gave it a look and decided that she wouldn’t even know where to start loading it, or even how to pull the trigger. 

“Away with you, beggar!” Anomen said in a haughty voice, making a small shooing gesture at the gnome. “And do not bother the lady again, or I shall have to report you.” 

“You know,” the gnome said in a pondering voice, “that reminds me of a story I once heard. My second cousin, Twerpy Jansen, he was very fond of reporting people too. He was a member of the City Guard you see, and very proud he was to be the first gnome on the job. So poor old Twerpy kept exaggerating things, slamming little kiddies in jail for crying in the street and disturbing the peace, putting little old ladies in the stocks for holding up the traffic by walking to slowly, that sort of thing. And he carried the Laws of Amn with him everywhere he went too and knew them all by heart. Yep, very particular about the Laws old Twerpy was.”

“I really do not think…” Jaheira began. 

“So,” the gnome went on, heedless of the protest, “then one day Twerpy was patrolling as usual, looking for litterers and jaywalkers and other dangerous criminals that he could whack over the head with his Official Club with its Guard of the Month insignia. Very proud of it he was, it had a picture of a guard beating a thief to death on it. Anyway, then Twerpy suddenly runs across this wizard who was exercising his pet griffin. A very nice and well behaved griffin it was, but Twerpy saw things differently. ‘Halt in the name of the Law!’ he cried out. ‘That is an unsupervised pet, and that is a crime! You must leash him at once.’ The wizard nodded and conjured up a leash and kept waiting for the griffin to go about its business. Twerpy wasn’t satisfied though. A very morose sort he was, I really felt for him. ‘Halt!’ he said. ‘That leash is floating around in midair! According to the Law you must hold it in your hand.’ Snarling, the wizard grabbed hold of the leash. ‘Happy now?’ he said. ‘No,’ Twerpy said, ‘you are still breaking the Law. According to the Law you must have both hands free in order to pick up your pet’s leavings with all due Hygiene Considerations. Since you don’t, I shall have to report you.’” 

“What…” Anomen said. 

“And that,” the gnome continued, “was when the wizard got mad enough to turn poor Twerpy into a big fat pig, and since the griffin was very hungry that was the last we saw of Twerpy. Which goes to show how dangerous filing reports can really be for your health.” He gave Anomen a sly wink. 

It took the squire a couple of moments to work his way through this, and when he did, he turned quite read in the face. “You…you vile, ungodly little man! One more word out of you and there will be smiting done, so help me Helm!” 

“Oh, calm down!” Zaerini said, nudging Anomen as she gave him a bright smile. “I thought it was a fun story. Relax a little.” 

“But…my lady!” 

“Really, you do need to relax or you’ll burst a blood vessel one of these days.” Rini turned to the gnome, feeling quite exhilarated. “So, what is it you sell? And what’s your name?”

“Ah, I’m glad you asked!” the gnome said, curtsying deeply. “Jan Jansen at your service, of the infamous Jansen Clan.” He paused. “Did I say infamous? I meant ‘famous’ of course. Part time adventurer, full time turnip salesman, and double time inventor. I like to keep busy. Besides, occasionally the markets get down and the formerly self-respecting purveyors of fine veggies are forced to prostitute their abilities in the form of adventuring.”

“B-but we really don’t need any turnips!” Aerie said, her eyes very wide as she watched the gnome. “And…and why would anybody want to sell t-turnips when they can adventure?”

“Hmpf!” Jan said. “If you insult the Power of the Turnip you are clearly lacking in moral fiber. I’ll have no more such cheek out of you missy.” Then his maniacal grin reasserted itself. “But I suppose I also have some merchandise for the less discerning customer.” He whipped up his enormous crossbow, pointing it directly at the flustered Avariel. “I've items to sell you that are especially created, by yours truly, to aid one on the dangerous path to heroism. They're known as Jan Jansen's (that's me) Flasher Master Bruiser Mate. Now pay attention, you take one o' these babies and chuck it at average Joe Orc, close your eyes real tight and WHOOSH!, he's running around in circles clutching at his eyeballs and screaming and yelling like Uncle Sven after three days on a turnip beer bender...” As he gesticulated with the crossbow there was a sudden loud bang, and a round projectile hit the screaming Aerie in the face, freezing her immobile in place. With her eyes and mouth open like that she looked very statuesque, even if it was the kind of statue normally found spewing water in the middle of a fountain. Rini couldn’t help but think that it was also an extremely vapid look. 

“Hmmm…” Jan said, frowning as he turned the crossbow over in his hands. “Looks like I need to tighten the trigger a mite…” He suddenly noticed the stares the other adventurers were giving him and shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, folks. She’ll be all right in a moment.” 

“Hold gnome, in the name of the Amnian Revenue and Taxation Board.” Zaerini turned around to see an armed soldier purposefully striding towards them, a gleeful look on his pinched face, which was dominated by a large wart on the side of his nose. Two other soldiers with somewhat less plumes on their helmets followed him, looking extremely bored. 

Jan smacked himself across the forehead with his palm, hunching down behind Minsc. “Argh, not again. That bottom-feeding, turnip-hating, scum-sucking brigand! Nothing better to do than stop an honest businessman from selling high quality illegal Flashers for a reasonable price. Here he comes, cover for me.”

“Minsc does not cower,” Minsc said. “He charges proudly and openly into battle, with his proud Boo at his side. Or down his armor, whichever works better.” 

The soldier was leering openly at the gnome by now, and the wart almost seemed to be pulsating with happiness. “Jan Jansen, gnomish citizen of Amn, you have been charged with tax evasion and the illegal sale of illegal items in an illegal manner.”

“Trax old friend, you wound me!” Jan said. “Don’t you know how much respect I have for the Law? Why, I would mock your wart in public before I ever broke the Law! Speaking of which, is that a wart on your face or just something left over from the latrine duty you got last week?”

“SHUT UP!” the man screamed, getting redder and redder, even as his two subordinates snickered loudly. “That was all your fault! If you hadn’t tricked me into publicly arresting High Judge Orest…how was I supposed to know that was him in that dress and wig? It’s not as if I got told about his little preferences! And furthermore…”

Rini couldn’t contain herself any longer. She was howling with laughter, tears streaming down her face. “That…that was marvelous!” she exclaimed, pounding Jan appreciatively on the back. “Just what I needed.” 

Trax gave her a lethal look. “Oh really?” he said. “And you are you, who are so easily amused? Why are you consorting with a known criminal? He tried to sell you illegal weapons, didn’t he? You might as well admit it! I am an Officer of Amnish Law, I WILL NOT BE MOCKED!” 

“Let’s see…” Zaerini said, tapping her lips with her finger as she made a show of thinking deeply. “My name is Zaerini Jansen, and I’m certainly not consorting with Jan, since he’s my cousin’s uncle’s grandfather’s daughter’s brother’s son.”

“But…” Trax stammered. “You…you aren’t a gnome…” 

“Ah,” the half-elf said, her golden eyes glittering wickedly. “Now that is a long and complicated story, that begins when Great Grandpa Jansen happened to…” 

“No! No, no, NO!” Trax screamed, shaking with horror. “Please! I give up! Anything but one of those infernal stories!” He hastily retreated, his two smirking subordinates ambling after him, and at the street corner he stopped, shaking his hand in the air. “I’ll get you next time, Jansen! NEXT TIME! BOTH OF YOU!” 

“My dear adopted relative,” Jan chuckled, “I think we’re going to get along just fine. Tell me; are you by any chance in need of somebody skilled with spells and lock picks? Looks like I’d better lay low with the turnip business for a while.” 

Zaerini gave her companions a look. Jaheira was shaking her head adamantly. Minsc was simply looking confused. Aerie was blissfully silent in her stunned state. And Anomen was huffing and puffing and looking as if he was about to explode at any second. _Ah, who cares? At least I’ll get some laughs, and that’s exactly what I need._ “My dear Jan,” she said, shaking the gnome’s hand warmly, “welcome aboard.” 

Her control…was slipping. Aerie seethed inwardly as she followed the rest of the group through the city. By now she ought to have had every single one of them eating out of her hand, but things weren’t going entirely her way. True, she had got rid of that annoying bounty hunter. True, Minsc was doting upon her every word. Jaheira might not exactly like her but thought her such a weakling that she’d never suspect differently. But apart from that…

Zaerini was being – difficult. Aerie had tried to speak with the half-elf more than once, and had got polite answers in return, but there was always a certain distance, even after performing her ‘heroic’ revelation of Yoshimo’s double-dealing. She didn’t think that Zaerini suspected her of foul play exactly. But whenever those golden eyes met hers, she got the impression that…that this comparable infant was sensing something wrong about her. And now there was the added complication of Jan. If Zaerini wanted to get rid of her, having found a second mage would prove an excellent excuse. _That gnome must die. Both for convenience and for the sake of his affront against me._

It had been extremely humiliating getting stunned like that, and though Jan had apologized about it as soon as she recovered, she had the nasty feeling that he was still sniggering about it behind her back. _Nobody humiliates me and gets away with it. I’d like to flay him slowly, inch by inch. But I suppose I’ll have to content myself with a swift death, something that can easily be pinned on another. No doubt an opportunity will present itself soon. Meanwhile, I can still work on another target._

Anomen was certainly proving susceptible to her charms, even if her progress wasn’t quite as swift as she had expected. She had used all her usual tricks. Smiling. Cooing. Blushing. Tears. Doe-eyed admiration of his every word and gesture, with an added seasoning of ‘helpless little girl’ to rouse his protective instincts. And yes, Anomen was certainly enjoying the attention and the opportunity to drone on endlessly about his own perceived perfection and heroic feats. Yet, there was something missing. 

_By now he should have been reduced to the state of a drooling zombie, his mind completely absorbed by me. Yet, sometimes his attention slackens. It seems I must intensify my efforts._

“Anomen,” Aerie said, gently touching the young squire’s arm and smiling shyly up at him. “I just wondered…would you mind telling me a l-little about your life in the Order? I’m sure you must be so brave and pure of h-heart to have joined them…they take only the b-best don’t they?” 

“Aye, my lady,” Anomen readily agreed, fingering his mustache. “Verily, the Order accepts only the best of the best. It would be o’erly prideful of me to boast of my own exceptional prowess, but I will say that Prelate Wessalen himself told me only last month that I am a unique talent.” 

_Probably because you have a completely solid brain. That would be a bit of a novelty even among paladins I suppose._

“How very interesting!” Aerie made herself gush. “But I’m sure you could never be immodest.” _After all, it takes some knowledge of the concept of modesty to achieve immodesty._ “Please, do tell me of…of your heroic deeds!” 

Anomen nodded eagerly and raised his voice so nobody would miss a single word he said. Aerie quickly followed his glance. He was looking at…Zaerini. The bard was walking a little ahead, eagerly conversing with Jan about his special ‘Extra Mega Gadget Pickpocketing Gloves’. She was smiling at the gnome and her hair shone like fire in the clear sunlight. _So that is how it is_ , the Avariel thought. _He is trying to use me to make her jealous, is he? The nerve of it! He should be whipped severely for such impudence. Anyway, it cannot be allowed. I should be the one they both confide in, none other._ “Never mind her, Anomen,” she whispered. “I…I don’t think she cares much for…for such things. You would probably…b-bore her.” 

“Nonsense!” Anomen sounded unusually sharp and his cheeks were flushed. Then he gave her an embarrassed look. “Pardon me, my lady. I was rude. It is just that…” 

“Hey!” Zaerini said, turning around. “What’s up? Anything I should know?”

Anomen beamed at her. “Indeed, my lady!” he said. “I was just about to tell young Aerie about…” Then he interrupted himself at the sight of the man who came rushing towards them. 

The party had entered the Docks by now, since Jan explained that the Shadow Thieves were prolific in this part of the city. Zaerini had reasoned that if the Cowled Wizards couldn’t be made to tell her where to find Imoen, it might be beneficial to get to know her new allies a little better, make some contacts, try to figure out what they knew. Here, the air smelled strongly of salt and seaweed, and there was a strong western wind that tugged at Aerie’s hair and forced her to tuck it behind her ears so she wouldn’t get it in her mouth. The narrow streets sloped gradually down towards the harbor proper and were lined with a curious mixture of crumbling old mansions and more recently built hovels. This had once been a prosperous part of the city, but fortune had moved on. Now it was home to sailors and pirates, to beggars and prostitutes, to thieves and killers. Aerie had to remind herself to shudder with delicate girlish fear whenever one of the more unsavory characters passed close by. 

Apparently, the place was also home to madmen. Right now, one was coming their way. He was a skinny man with wild hair, bloodshot eyes and a tattered black robe. “Kneel and repent!” he screeched, almost frothing at the mouth. “The all mighty Cyric commands it! Convert to his worship, or be destroyed!” 

“Worship Cyric?” Zaerini said. “Why would I want to do that? Are you insane or something?” Then she shrugged. “Stupid of me. You’re a Cyricist. Of course you’re insane. Why don’t you go and gibber somewhere else? Unless you planned to pay me for the privilege of converting me.” 

“Pay? PAY! Glorious Cyric does not pay! He exacts payment! In blood!”

“About what I figured. No thanks then.” 

The priest wasn’t about to give in though. “You will go no further,” he said, and suddenly his voice sounded frighteningly cold and lucid. “Your journey ends here, Child. If you will not kneel to your betters, you will be made to do so.” He raised his hands to chant a spell, but before he could finish, he suddenly stared in great surprise at the Sword of Chaos protruding from his chest. 

“Minsc does not like bad men who threaten little Rini,” Minsc said in a reproachful voice. “It upsets both him and Boo.” 

“Gaaaccckk…” the Cyricist said as he gently slid off the sword, accompanied by an enthusiastic squeak from the hamster sitting on Minsc’s shoulder. The animal was jumping eagerly up and down.

“See?” Minsc said. “Now he won’t calm down for hours…” 

Aerie seethed inwardly as she watched Anomen hurry over to Zaerini. “My lady, are you well?” he said. “You are not hurt in any way, are you? He did not frighten you?”

The bard looked momentarily surprised, but then she smiled briefly. “I’m just fine,” she said. “He never even touched me. And it takes more than some poor madman to frighten me, but it was nice of you to ask.” 

“Well, I thought it was just horrid!” Aerie said. “I…I am trembling all over! My poor legs are just shaking…” 

Anomen opened his mouth as if to say something, but before he had the time to do so Minsc cut in. “Minsc will carry Aerie if she is feeling sick! Minsc likes helping those smaller and weaker.” Instantly the Avariel found herself hoisted off the ground by the ranger’s strong arms and flung across his shoulder, held in place by the massive strength of his muscular right arm.

“Eeeeek!” Aerie shrieked. She just barely managed to bite back a violent curse that wouldn’t fit her persona. _Put me down you great oaf! The indignity! I can walk on my own!_ “M-Minsc?” she said. “I…I d-don’t think this is such a good idea…” On Minsc’s other shoulder Boo was glaring at her with his beady little eyes. _Oh, if only I could wring that fuzzy little neck…_

“Of course it is!” Minsc said. “Now Aerie will not get tired anymore and Minsc is very happy to help.”

“Y-yes but…” 

“Oh, just be quiet,” Jaheira said. “He does have a point. At least this way you will not slow us down.” 

It was at this point that another stranger approached the adventurers. This was a man in anonymous looking clothes of gray and brown, and a plain but watchful face. “Zaerini?” he asked the half-elf. “I have an invitation for you.” 

“Really?” the bard said, sounding a little annoyed. “I suppose it’s too much to hope for that it’s to someplace pleasant.” 

“You’ll have to be the judge of that. Gaelan Bayle spoke of you, and he is one of us. There is somebody who would very much like to meet with you. Renal Bloodscalp is taking a personal interest.” 

“Shadow Thieves,” Jaheira said in a low voice. “Tread carefully, child.” 

“Shadow Thieves?” Anomen exclaimed, sounding quite outraged. “My lady, you cannot possibly mean…” 

Zaerini gave him a sharp glance. “I will do what it takes to find Imoen. I’d go to a meeting with Mask himself if I thought that would help. Are you coming? Or do Helmites abandon their quests so easily these days?”

The squire’s mouth set in a stubborn line. “I will come,” he said. “You will need somebody to guide your virtue and keep you from sliding towards the Chasm of Sin after all.” 

“Whatever, Metal-boy.” The redhead nodded to the strange thief. “Lead the way.” 

“Right here,” the man said, pointing at a rather worn building close by, its windows closed and shuttered. 

“Minsc will lead the way and protect his friends against evil lurking in the shadows!” Minsc shouted, kicked the door to the building open and leapt through. Unfortunately, he forgot that he was carrying Aerie. 

CLONK! 

The Avariel felt genuine tears rising in her eyes as she touched her aching head, where it had made contact with the doorframe. Bright stars were spinning in the air around her. 

“Oh no!” Minsc cried, sounding as if he were about to weep himself. “Poor Aerie! Minsc is so sorry, he forgot himself! Can you ever forgive him?”

“O-of course Minsc,” Aerie said, hoping that her voice didn’t sound too strained. “It…it was an accident.” _And you are an accident waiting to happen you big idiot! Once this charade is over with, I’ll enjoy hanging you upside down and slowly frying you over an open fire! With mustard! And your hamster!_

Jaheira tutted loudly, bending over the wounded Avariel and touching her head to cast a minor healing spell on it. “You must not let yourself get so wounded, Aerie. I will not always be here to bandage you, you know.”’

_No, you won’t. Because I’ll make certain you wind up a lifeless corpse along with your stupid husband._ “I'm a healer too, Jaheira,” Aerie said. She couldn’t quite keep her voice calm, but childish annoyance might fit ‘sweet little Aerie’ under certain circumstances. 

Jaheira shook her head in a rather condescending manner. “And what good are your spells now? You should be more frugal and not cast them all at once.”

“Y-Yes, ma'am.” _Once I have you in my power I will conserve my spells. I’ll use my healing spells slowly enough that you’re just barely kept alive to enjoy the delicious pain I have in store for you._

“And do not stutter,” the druid said with an exasperated sigh. “It does not become you.”

“Lady Jaheira,” Anomen protested, “that is hardly fair.” 

_Time to take advantage of the opportunity. A little sweetness to contrast to her harshness._ Aerie made herself smile sweetly at the druid and softened her voice even more than normally. “I…I cannot help it. You are so…so fierce and fearsome that I…that I become quite o-overwhelmed. B-but I forgive you. I’m sure you c-cannot help being rough. We are just very d-different people.” As she said the last she gave Anomen an imploring look, making certain he got her shy smile full in the face. 

The squire smiled sheepishly. “I…have noticed…” 

“Ahem!” Zaerini said. “Are you lot coming, or should Jan and I go on our own?” 

“Would be happy to, your worship,” the gnome cut in. “Jansen Adventure-Wear is at your service. May I tempt you with a set of Jansen Thermal Underwear?”

The bard looked a little puzzled at this. “Thermal Underwear?”

“Granted, it’s pretty hot here already, but Jansen Thermal Underwear will guarantee that you do not suddenly find yourself freezing your nobler parts off, even should some evil wizard teleport you to the farthest reaches of Icewind Dale with no convenient way of getting back. And they’re good for keeping your buns hot too.” 

“Outrageous!” Anomen trumpeted. “How dare you speak to the lady in such a manner! Of…of undergarments and…and…”

“Hot buns?” Jan said, hauling out a bag of rounded objects from somewhere inside his robe. “Really Ano, you’re very tense. Nothing wrong with wholesome hot turnip buns. But that leaves more for the rest of us!” 

“Uh…thanks Jan,” Zaerini said in a faltering voice. “I think I’ll pass on those. Let’s just go meet this Bloodscalp fellow…” She turned and headed further off into the gloomy interior of the house.

“My lady!” Anomen said. “Wait for me! You cannot walk about in this place unprotected!” He rushed after her, leaving Aerie sitting on the floor, forgotten. 

“Does Aerie want Minsc to carry her again?” the ranger kindly asked. 

“No,” Aerie said, clenching her fists. “No, I don’t.” _That does it. Nobody walks out on me. Nobody. That girl has no idea of it, but from now on I’ll be taking a personal interest in causing her suffering. Eventually my opportunity will come, and then I’ll show her what a real mage can do, unlike that ridiculous gnome. Cowled Wizards aside, in all of Athkatla there are none to rival my powers. None._ Aerie smiled slightly to herself as she got to her feet. Let the girl run about on the errands of thieves. She wasn’t likely to get anything out of it, but it might present an opportunity to eliminate Jan. _Once again making the child dependent on my arcane prowess, as it should be. In the end there will only be one mage allowed in this party and it won’t be a turnip-obsessed one, that I swear._


	13. A Tale of two Thieves Guilds

**Cards Reshuffled 13 – A Tale of two Thieves Guilds**

_It’s funny how things turn out. You may have imagined a certain scene dozens, hundreds of times, anticipating what it would be like, playing every line out in your head. And yet somehow, when the time is upon you, it never seems to go quite as you had imagined it._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Zaerini interestedly examined the place she found herself in. That it was the Shadow Thief guild house she didn’t doubt for a second, nor that it was a dangerous place, but she was curious to take a closer look all the same. Near the entrance a few tables covered with deep red cloth had been set up, and various small and expensive items were spread out on them. Behind the tables a hooded woman watched the potential customers warily. I suppose she must be a fence. I’ll stop by later and sell that ring if I have the time. 

The interior of the building was fairly dark and gloomy, with narrow beams of sunlight filtering in here and there from the small windows near the roof. Dust motes danced wildly in the sun like tiny pixies. There wasn’t much furniture, and this entry hall more or less gave the impression of an old warehouse, but Rini didn’t doubt that there would be plenty of secrets further inside the building. Now and then she managed to spot a shadowy figure watching her from the corners, but she had a feeling there were plenty of other thieves that she _didn’t_ see, and that she would do well not to provoke them. 

After getting directions from a helpful halfling pickpocket and slapping his fingers away when they drifted too close, she made her way up a narrow and dark stairway and to the second floor. There were more thieves here, watching her silently. Not exactly hostile, but she got the impression that it wouldn’t take much to make them so. Then the corridor opened up into a larger room. There was a short man sitting in a comfortable old armchair near one end, and several other people hanging about, talking quietly in small groups. Rini gave the man in the chair a curious look. He was short; shorter than she was even, with shaggy hair the color of old blood. His face was plain and unremarkable, apart from the bright gleam in his eyes, and he was idly petting a large cat sitting on his lap. A white cat it was, with luxurious long fur and haughty yellow eyes. 

_Not bad_ , Softpaws said appreciatively. _Nice fur. Probably a nice body too. I wouldn’t mind a romp with that one._

_Be my guest._

_It’s tempting…but I’ve already got one kitten to look after. A few more might be too much to handle._

The man in the armchair gave Zaerini a brief smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You'll have to excuse me if I stare,” he said in a rather melodious voice. “You're not quite what I was expecting. From all I have been told, I was expecting someone...larger.”

“Like who?” the bard said, crossing her arms across her chest. “An enormous warrior with spiky armor, a booming voice and glowing eyes? Sorry to disappoint you. And anyway, I was expecting the Leader of the Shadow Thieves to be rather more impressive myself.” 

“Fair enough,” the man said, stroking the white cat. The animal purred loudly. “I trade in rumors, you know. The ones about you have been coming out of the North for quite some time now, and they were very…vivid. Though as I well know, it is not only outward appearance that speaks of power. As for me, my name is Renal Bloodscalp. It’s really a reference to my hair, but it carries nasty enough implications with it that it helps keep people in line. I’m not the leader of the Shadow Thieves as such, but I lead enough that it need make no real difference to you.” He indicated the cat. “And this is Fluffy.” 

“I doubt you asked us here for the purpose of socializing,” Jaheria cut in. “What is it that you wish of us?” 

Renal nodded. “Right to the point, I see. Refreshing. I have far too many subordinates afraid to speak their minds. To be short, Gaelan recommended you, and I trust his word. I am in need of mercenaries to perform a particular task, and you are just the one to do it.”

“Really?” Rini said. “Must be a very special job, if none of all these thieves and assassins are up for it.” 

“Quite so. Normally my own people would be all I needed, but this is a special case. I need someone of skill who is not one of the Shadow Thieves...someone more or less unknown to us. Someone, I trust, like yourself.”

“Ooooh, being nefarious, aren’t we?” Jan said. “Must be something very tricky then, like when my Great Uncle Indiana Jansen was contracted to retrieve the Sacred Turnip out of the eye socket of the statue of the Great Griffin. He packed everything he knew he’d need. Lunch. Bull whip. Hat. Protective underwear. Crossbow. Mosquito net. Bathing suit. Snake oil. Snakes. There are always snakes, you know. Lifeboat. Unfortunately, he forgot the most important thing.” 

”Which was?” Jaheira sighed. 

“Griffin repellant. You see, it turned out that the Great Griffin wasn’t in fact a statue but a real Giant Griffin that had taken to wearing the Sacred Turnip as a prosthetic aid after it lost its real right eye in an unfortunate knitting accident. And as you can probably guess, the Great Griffin wasn’t too pleased about finding a gnome climbing about on its beak, trying to pull its prosthesis out.” 

“So, it ate him?” Anomen impatiently said.

“Certainly not! This is Uncle Indiana we’re talking about. No, he simply pulled his crossbow out and shot the Great Griffin in its other eye, rendering the poor thing completely blind.”

“And then he got away?” Rini asked. 

“I’m afraid not. You see, since it was now blind the poor Great Griffin stumbled over a rock and fell on him. Sad, really. But it goes to show that you can never be too careful about which jobs you take on.” 

Renal Bloodscalp was sitting motionless in his chair, his mouth gaping a little, his eyes wide. Now he closed his mouth with a snap, shaking himself as if he was trying to wake up from a bad dream. “Right…yes…you needn’t worry about that. I’ll make certain to give you all the details. One of my guildhouses to the south is run by a rather ambitious fellow named Mae'Var. Good thief, but I never liked him. Now I know why. I've had some hints that he is getting too big for himself. Thinking of taking my place, I suspect, but I've had no real evidence to say that this is so. Now, you're likely thinking: why not just eliminate him? Yes, yes, I suppose I could. But without proof of betrayal, this would anger the other guildmasters and then I'd have a war on my hands and, well, just let it lie that I don't want that.”

“Hm,” Rini said, giving him a sly look. “And I suppose that ‘guild war’ we’ve heard about has nothing to do with anything? You have a nice place here, but if you’re already fighting this mysterious new assassin’s guild, I doubt you’d be interested in a two-front war with this Mae’Var fellow. It would be much more convenient to have us deal with him, wouldn’t it?” 

For a moment appreciation glinted in the thief’s eyes, but when he spoke again his voice was neutral. “I would like for you to join Mae’Var’s guild. It is not far from here, a few streets away only. I will give you papers saying you were being transferred by the Shadow Master. You will spy on Mae'Var from the inside and find me the evidence that I need. Once he is damned with proof, you can take care of this nuisance and eliminate Mae'Var. One less headache for a busy man such as myself to be concerned with. You'll need to reassure Mae'Var, naturally. He won't know who you are, but I am confident that you are more than capable of this. What say you? Interested? You will be well compensated for your troubles I assure you.”

“My Lady!” Anomen hissed into Zaerini’s ear. “Surely you cannot be considering doing this? Working for this…this scoundrel?” 

“Yes Anomen,” the bard said out of the corner of her mouth. “I need the money, and I need the contacts. I’d do worse than this to save Immy, and you might as well know it. Besides, I doubt your Order usually interferes when thieves fight each other. Why should they care if we help one side against the other?”

“But…” 

“Unless you had some crazy idea about the six of us arresting every thief in this place.”

“Well…” 

“Because if you did, think again. I don’t plan on dying just yet, thanks.” The half-elf turned to Renal Bloodscalp again. “I accept,” she said, “assuming I get well paid, as you say.” 

“Oh, you will,” the thief said. “A hefty sum in gold will be yours if you succeed, and possibly something else as well.” He tossed the bard a small pack of documents. “Mae’Var’s guild is marked on the map I’ve enclosed. Show the other documents to Gorch the barkeep, and he will arrange an audience for you. I look forward to seeing you again.” 

Minsc shook his head sadly. “We do the bidding of thieves now? Ehhh... this churns my belly like a hamster running endlessly within a wheel. This can't be a good sign, little Rini.” 

So preoccupied was the half-elf with calming the ranger down and coaxing him out the door before he would lose his temper that she hardly heard Renal’s parting words. 

“Oh, and I almost forgot…you want to watch out for Mae’Var’s wizard. He’s an odd sort I hear, but still dangerous.” 

Once the adventurers were out in the street Aerie sighed loudly and fanned herself with her hand. “Oh, that was so horrid!” she said. “All those dreadful thieves…I can’t believe you’d want to spend time with…with such awful people. How…how could you do s-such a thing!” 

“As I said, because I mean to rescue my best friend,” Rini snapped. “Who also happens to be one of those ‘awful people’ as you put it.” 

“But…but won’t it mean doing b-bad things? Anomen is r-right about this…” 

“Listen you,” the bard said, glaring at the Avariel. “I plan to rescue Immy. I will do whatever it takes to do so, or almost whatever. If you don’t like that, you don’t have to come along, but you will stop whining about it right now. You’re free to leave if you want, and so is Anomen.” She turned and walked off down the streets, her steps jerky with anger. 

_Are they coming?_

_Yes_ , Softpaws said. _Well done, kitten. You have foes enough without having to fight them off your back._

_Yes. Well, hopefully this will be the end of it._

Mae’Var’s guildhouse wasn’t far off, fortunately, and after having shown the documents Renal had given her, Zaerini and her companions were let inside and directed down a staircase to a dark cellar. As she was navigating her way downwards, a terrible scream rose from the depths, almost making her lose her balance. 

“By Silvanus!” Jaheira cried out. “What was that?” 

Rini didn’t answer. She had to clench her jaws shut in order to keep her teeth from chattering. 

“That came from a soul in great pain,” Aerie said, her voice eerily calm. 

_No kidding. That…that reminds me of…Irenicus._

The half-elf made herself progress downwards, and eventually she came out into a low-ceilinged cellar room, with damp stone walls and a raw chill in the air. It was nothing compared to the chill in her heart though, as she took in the surroundings. There were chains and whips hanging on the walls, still stained with blood and bits of rotting flesh. There were pincers and tongs, and a fire pit for heating them. There were all sorts of other items that she couldn’t identify and was happy not to be able to. And there was a rack. A naked man was bound to it. He was bleeding from many cuts, and there were bruises all over him. With a final groan he gave up his breath, succumbing to his wounds. Another man was standing next to the rack, smiling gleefully down at the torture victim. He was a fairly handsome fellow, but his eyes reminded Rini of a bird of prey. Cold and sharp, and utterly pitiless. She was very thankful that she had left Minsc and Anomen upstairs. Right now, she was finding it difficult enough to keep from immediately attacking the sadistic thief, and she doubted that they would have been unable to resist. Sighing, he wiped some blood off on the well-made dark leather armor he was wearing and gave her a bored look. 

“Hello there,” he said, his voice a curious mixture of amusement and hostility. “I certainly hope you've got a reason to be bothering me, because I'm quite busy, as you can see. Ah, poor Lin has left us. I've a few minutes to spare then. Who are you and why shouldn't I kill you?”

The bard tersely introduced herself and explained about her supposed ‘transfer’. Mae’Var seemed to believe her explanation, but clearly wasn’t about to immediately trust her with anything sensitive. Instead he ordered her to steal a certain amulet from the Temple of Talos and then report back to him. Not trusting herself to keep the revulsion out of her voice Rini simply nodded before leaving. _He’s like a tiny version of Irenicus. But I can do this. For Immy’s sake, I could do just about anything._

The burglary proved simple enough to carry out, thanks to Jan and a spell of invisibility. The gnome slipped quietly into the temple and came back with a large and very ugly necklace. Mae’Var seemed pleased enough with it. “It's a mystery how they walk with a dinner plate around their necks,” he sneered. “I'll file it with the other garbage sent to Calimshan. They like jewelry big, I hear. Now, let's put you to some real work. I haven't the time to piddle around with you, so my right-hand man will keep you busy until you can work for me personally.” The thief giggled to himself as if he had thought of something amusing. “His name is Edwin. Bloody good spellcaster, but he likes his luxuries. Usually happens to adventurers that hate the road. He's on the third floor above us. Get going.” 

“Excuse me,” Zaerini said, her voice entirely too calm, considering that her stomach was suddenly turning somersaults. “Did you just say…Edwin?” 

“You’re not deaf, are you? I could poke some sharp sticks in your ears to test…” 

“No, I’m not deaf. Tell me, does this ‘Edwin’ have a last name? I wouldn’t want to get the wrong person.” 

“You can’t mistake him,” Mae’Var said. “Not as if there’s likely to be any other Red Wizards hanging about this place. But it’s ‘Odesseiron’ if that will make you shut up. Now go away before I…” 

But Mae’Var was speaking for deaf ears. The half-elf had already disappeared up the stairs like a flash of lightning, her companions trailing after her. Only the blonde elf lagged behind, her face chagrined. “Odesseiron…” she whispered, too quietly for Mae’Var to hear. “Oh no…this is not the right time and place!” 

-*-

Edwin yawned and stretched, trying to force some semblance of life back into his aching muscles. He’d been sitting motionless at his desk for far too long, bent over the ancient documents in front of him. By now his back and neck were trying to forcefully remind him of their existence, and it was only the burning sensation in his eyes that had drawn his attention to the fact that he’d been so absorbed by his studies that he’d forgotten all about blinking. 

_But I am making progress_ , the wizard thought. _Definite progress._ The clues were all in there, and they were starting to come together nicely. Now he only needed to confirm his information, and he would soon be able to do that. _As soon as that lazy Marcus moves his fat behind far enough from his seat at the Sea’s Bounty to actually go and do his job._ He had no choice but to rely on Marcus though. The man was a servant of the Cowled Wizards and would be able to gain access to one of their libraries as Edwin would not. _And then, the legendary powers of the Nether Scroll will soon be under the control of Edwin Odesseiron, the Greatest Wizard who ever lived! Power, unimaginable power! Unimaginable even to my superior imagination, which is of course far beyond that of any other mage in existence. Khelben Blackstaff! Ha! Elminster! Pah! They will all tremble before the earthshaking power of Edwin Odesseiron and his Nether Scroll!_

The excited gleam in the wizard’s dark eyes faded slowly and he lowered his head, a brief spasm of sudden pain crossing his face as the memories overtook him. _And perhaps…somehow…I can use it to make everything all right again. Perhaps I can use it to find them. To somehow explain…_

Edwin sighed and rubbed tiredly at his eyes. Then he winced as his sleeve got caught on the chain connecting the ring in his ear with the one in his nose. The stupid thing wouldn’t let go either. _Ouch. It’s still tender._ He’d got the nose ring only recently, and he couldn’t remember the exact circumstances, something that bothered him a little. He’d been feeling lonely and depressed, and drinking one drink beginning with every letter in the alphabet had seemed like an excellent idea at the time. By the time he got to ‘F’ for ‘Firewine’ he’d been feeling much better. When he’d reached ‘H’ for ‘Hurricane Hurler’ he’d been ready to take on the world. And as he had been working himself past ‘J’ for ‘Jaundice Jello’ he’d happened to spot a half-orc barbarian at the bar. The bandit had been wearing so many metal implements through various body parts that he’d looked like a walking smithy. Edwin’s memories were a bit hazy after this point, but he recalled staggering over to the bar and speaking to the half-orc. The next coherent memory was of being tied to a chair as a devilishly grinning goblin in a bloodstained apron approached his face with a sharp metal probe. After that, there was a long blank. 

_I think I somehow got back to the Sea’s Bounty_ , Edwin mused. _Yes, he’d definitely been lying on the floor at some point, trying to count the number of his legs but losing count every time he reached thirteen. And then…and then…_

There had been a female voice speaking to him, and the alcohol had helped the hallucination along nicely, altering the voice to the one he wished to hear, changing a pretty face for another that burned like a flame in his mind, darkening the shade of the hair from blonde to fiery red. He could recall smiling confusedly at the divine vision before him, telling her how much he’d longed to see her, and her smiling back at him. 

And then…there was another blank, up until the point where he woke up in a strange bed with a murderous headache and a tongue that felt as if it had grown fur. The girl, whatever her name really was, had seemed as if she’d enjoyed herself. He wondered if he had. _I suppose I did. Wish I could remember._ But if so, it had been no more than a temporary relief. Hadn’t been what he needed. Who he needed. 

He’d been trying to be more careful with drinking since then. He didn’t want to wake up one morning to find out that he’d had other parts of his body impaled with sharp instruments. _Or to hallucinate her face…her voice, only to be disappointed once more by reality. I couldn’t stand that._

The wizard’s body suddenly tensed. There were footsteps approaching, coming rapidly up the stairs, heading towards his door. _Mae’Var? Has he finally decided that I’m no longer useful to him?_ He had fortunately managed to disentangle his sleeve by now, and now he feverishly reached for his pouches of spell components with trembling fingers. _A Mirror Image first for defense…and then that giggling twisted little torturer will be treated to a lovely charcoal black tan._

The footsteps were coming even closer now, drumming angrily across the floor like a furious hailstorm. 

BANG! 

The door was thrown open so violently that it almost flew off its hinges. Edwin raised his hands, his mouth already forming the first syllables of his spell. Then he trailed off as his mouth gaped open, and the magic fizzled into useless sparks. He had a feeling his eyes were as large as saucers, his legs had suddenly turned to quivering jelly, and there was a strange buzzing noise in his ears. _It…it cannot be! It is another hallucination; it has to be! Szass Tam’s ancient underwear, am I seeing things even when I am sober now? Have I gone insane?_

There was a woman standing on the threshold to the wizard’s dark and book-littered room. A half-elven woman, shorter and slimmer than a human female, and with the lightly pointed ears of her race. Bright red hair was dancing about her face like living flames, almost standing on end like the fur of an angry feline. She was leaning forwards a little, supporting herself against the doorframe with both hands, as if she was too furious to keep herself upright otherwise. With some detached part of his mind Edwin noticed that she was wearing a simple white shirt, black pants and vest, and a pair of rather scuffed boots. Far simpler clothing than when he had last seen her. 

_She is too thin! Far too thin! What happened to her?_

Unbidden, the image of a red cat floated to the top of his mind, the animal hissing angrily at him as he spied the prominent ribs and tender scars. Then he was yanked back to reality as he was once again captivated by the woman’s face. The generous, slightly too wide mouth was currently set in an enraged snarl, and the large and lightly slanted golden eyes were burning like the fires of the Abyss itself. She was panting a little, clearly too angry to speak properly at the moment. _Beautiful…so beautiful…_

And then Edwin suddenly realized what must be going on. This couldn’t possibly be real. She couldn’t possibly be here, not really. He had been thinking about her, and now he was seeing things. It was just another hallucination. _And I won’t wind up in bed with this one. I’m sure it would turn out to be a half-orc or something._

How to best deal with the situation though? The best would probably be to ignore it entirely and wait for it to go away. _Yes, just behave normally and whoever that is won’t suspect a thing._ Probably it was a stranger anyway. 

Pleased with his own cleverness, Edwin sat back down on his chair, trying to slow his breathing. _I can do this. It’s a hallucination. It’s just a hallucination._ “Greetings,” he said, hoping his voice was calm enough. “I am Edwin Odesseiron. You simians may refer to me merely as ‘Sir’ if you prefer a less…syllable intensive workout.” 

The world stood still. Suns were born and died. Planets formed out of the void. Tiny creatures formed civilizations, dreamt of conquering the world, exploring the stars, and then blew themselves up. Edwin’s heart skipped a beat and went on to the next. 

The redhead’s eyes widened just a little more, and then she crossed the floor. Slowly. Determinedly. She bent across the table, presenting the wizard with a view that made him forget to breathe for several seconds, a fixed smile on her face all the while. And then she reached across the table, grabbed hold of the front of his robe, yanked him close enough that their noses were almost touching, and proceeded to scream in his face. 

“SIMIANS! SIMIANS? IS THAT WHAT YOU CALL ME THESE DAYS, EDWIN ODESSEIRON? YOU LIED TO ME, YOU PRETENDED TO CARE ABOUT ME, TO BE MY FRIEND! YOU SAID YOU WOULD STAY! ONE YEAR’S SERVICE, THAT’S WHAT YOU SAID! AND THEN, THEN YOU RAN OUT ON ME AND LEFT ONE LOUSY STINKING BLOODY LETTER, STATING THAT YOU WERE ‘TOO BUSY’ TO STAY! WELL, I’LL BE HAPPY TO KEEP YOU BUSY! BUSY PICKING YOUR TEETH OFF THE FLOOR! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW I LOOKED FOR YOU? HOW WORRIED I WAS? NO, OF COURSE NOT! AND THEN, THEN WHEN I FINALLY CATCH UP WITH YOU, YOU CALL ME A SIMIAN? JUST BE HAPPY I HAVEN’T GOT A BANANA ON ME, MONKEY BOY, OR I’D…I’D RAM IT UP YOUR NOSE! AND THEN I’D…” She paused to draw breath and gave him a very strange look. “Speaking of noses, whatever is that hideous thing on your face?” She gave the chain a little experimental tug, making the wizard wince. “It looks totally ridiculous, not to mention dangerous. Do you realize I could tear half your nose off like this?” A worried look suddenly flashed across her face. “Oh Gods, it wasn’t that horrible Mae’Var wasn’t it? He didn’t torture you? If he did I’ll…” Then she cleared her throat and looked annoyed. “He’d better not have. I want to kill you myself, but I want you intact when I do it.” 

Edwin’s mouth had been opening and closing soundlessly throughout all this, and now his voice finally started working again, though it came out as more of a squeak. “Zaerini?!” he said. If this was a hallucination, it was a very realistic one. Not only did it look like her, the voice was perfect in every detail, and when her fingers had accidentally brushed his cheek as she touched the chain they had felt very real, and then there was the scent of her. Something light and fresh, but wild, and instantly recognizable. Besides, the daydreams and hallucinations he’d had of her so far hadn’t involved her threatening to punch his teeth out or shouting in his face. There had been plenty of other activities going on, but there had been a clear lack of shouting. _Is it…real? Could it really be her this time? Impossible! But it seems so real!_ He kept staring at the angry face in front of him, and the wild mane of red hair. _Red. So red. If only I could touch it._

“Well?” the bard said, crossing her arms across her chest. “Aren’t you going to say something? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this mute before.” 

“I…” Edwin said, and then he had to clear his throat. “I had my reasons for acting as I did. You wouldn’t understand, being so severely lacking in the intellectual area.” _I can’t tell her the truth. She’d hate me if I did._ A small voice at the back of his mind told Edwin that he was well on his way to making the half-elf hate him anyway, but he ignored it. _I can’t tell her! That would mean having to tell her everything. Including the truth about my old mission._

“Try me,” Zaerini hissed. Her cat familiar had leapt onto her shoulder by now and was watching him coolly with eyes as green as emeralds. 

“I…” And then Edwin for the first time became aware that the half-elf wasn’t the only person present. Jaheira he recognized, and the way the druid scowled at him told him that she wanted nothing more than to skin him alive and feed his remains to wild animals. He couldn’t see her stuttering husband though, which was odd. Those two generally were within arm’s length of each other. And where was Imoen? The annoying pink one wouldn’t have departed from her best friend’s company, would she? There was an odd-looking gnome who kept smiling inanely and then…then…a very large man. An enormous man in fact, bald and muscular, and wearing the tribal tattoos of a Rashemani berserker. There was a hamster sitting on top of his head. _Rasheman? She would take up with those…those WITCHES? How could she?_ He couldn’t spot the witch herself, but he knew she had to be around close by. His own anger was flaring hotly by now, fueled by dark memories, not all of them his own. _She would travel with a Witch? She would disbelieve me that easily, yet trust in one of them? Well, two can play that game. And besides, the danger still remains. As long as she is close to me, she will be in danger._

“The past hardly matters,” Edwin said with a small sneer. “The company you currently keep limits your uses.” 

“I see,” Zaerini coldly replied. “Then I suppose I’m simply going to have to believe that you ran out on m…us…because you had an irresistible urge to go to work for a torturer in a city that hates mages. That makes perfect sense, doesn’t it?” She gave him an expectant look as if hoping for a reply, but when none came her mouth set in a stubborn line. “Fine. Have it your way. Mae’Var sent us here because he seemed to believe that you might have some sort of work for us. So, what do you want me to do?” 

For a moment Edwin came dangerously close to answering that question truthfully. _Can’t have that. Can’t let her suspect anything. But what could I possibly make up instead? Yes, now I know. It is something that needs doing, and it shouldn’t be too dangerous, not when she’s in company._ “Hear me. It seems my prowess as a mage has captured the eye of the Cowled Wizards. I'm certain they are envious, though their actions are not fitting tribute. They have dispatched an agent to investigate my activities, something I don't appreciate. This insult must be punished by killing the Cowled agent. Rayic Gethras is his name. His house is a gray three-story behind a fence along the westward wall of the Docks District.” Edwin thought hard about what else to say. _Better try to impress her with my utter ruthlessness as well. Let me see…being asked to do assassination work might or might not put her off, but I need something else as well. Anything to make her go away._ The wizard shrugged, making sure to look utterly indifferent. “When you find Rayic Gethras, kill him. Question him beforehand if you like. Any insight into the Cowled Wizards is useful. A little torture would soften him.” 

Zaerini inhaled sharply at this, making Edwin reasonably certain that he had achieved his goal. _I am sorry, my Hellkitten. But this is the way it has to be. I cannot keep you near me no matter what I might wish._

“Well,” the half-elf said in a sharp voice. “That was an interesting request. You can forget about the torture right now. As for killing people at your word…are you somehow under the impression that I’m now your personal private assassin?” 

Edwin sighed. “I’m not,” he said. “Believe me, I’m not. (For one thing, you would need to be a great deal taller…)”


	14. The Game Turns

**Cards Reshuffled 14 – The Game Turns**

_When it comes to enemies, it is always best to keep them from knowing that you know they are your enemies for as long as possible. That helps you arrange for a satisfying way to strike at them when they least expect it._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“That…that vain, selfish, annoying, aggravating, INFURIATING wizard!” Zaerini growled as she pounded down the stairs of Mae’Var’s guild and out into the street, pausing only to gather up a nervous-looking Aerie who was hanging about downstairs for some reason. “Aerie, what are you doing _there_? No, don’t bother telling me, I’m sure I don’t want to know.” Caught up in her rage, the half-elf turned to Jaheira. “Isn’t it typical? He runs out on me, he has me worried sick, and then when I finally catch up with him, he pretends he doesn’t know me! And then practically the first word out of his mouth is a request for me to go kill somebody for him! I mean, what kind of behavior is that? How spoiled can you get? Somebody obviously neglected to teach him manners by indulging his every whim, but guess what?”

“What?” Jaheira asked, looking a little stunned. She wasn’t used to not being able to get more than a single word in. 

“Well, I’m certainly going to teach him a lesson or two, that’s right! He didn’t even say he was sorry; did you notice that? But he _will_ be. Oh, he’ll be sorry all right…” 

“My lady,” Anomen cut in, looking deeply concerned. “Am I to take it that you…that you know that rude wizard?” 

“Oh, I know him all right,” Rini said. “He’s extremely clever, and an incredibly good wizard, and has a great sense of humor. And he’s totally obnoxious, and completely…completely…” 

_Adorable?_ Softpaws quietly inserted, and the half-elf had to bite her tongue in order not to repeat the word aloud. 

_Yes. NO! I mean…_

_Face it, kitten. You’re still totally besotted with him. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. He’s clever, and has sharp claws, and he’s able to keep up with you. And he’ll be good at mating._

_How do you know that?_

_It’s in the way they move, kitten. I’ll show you some time._

_But…_

“My lady,” Anomen said, taking her arm and giving her a sincere look. “I fear I must warn you against having dealings with that wizard. The Red Wizards are not to be trusted; he will betray you as soon as he thinks he may gain from it.” 

The bard was about to snap angrily, but she paused as she noticed the look of genuine concern in the young squire’s dark blue eyes. _I think he really means it; he’s really worried about my safety._ “Thanks, Anomen,” she said. “But I can handle this, I promise you.” 

“So you may think, but you are a woman, with a woman’s tender and forgiving heart, and the scoundrel may use that against you to worm himself into your confidence. But fear not, my lady!” Anomen’s face took on an extremely determined expression and he adjusted the mace hanging at his side. “I will allow no harm to come to you, for I have sworn myself to your protection and will neither fail nor falter!” 

“Yes, fine, but I’d rather handle Edwin myself and…” 

“Oh!” Aerie exclaimed. The Avariel was looking very pale, and as if she was about to start crying any moment. “Do…do w-we have to discuss that…that d-dreadful, slimy, evil wizard?” Then she gulped as Zaerini rounded on her, shaking her finger under her nose. 

“You just keep your mouth shut about him!” the bard said. “You don’t know him, and you didn’t even come upstairs to meet him, so I don’t see what made you an expert!” 

Aerie was trembling a little as next she spoke. “Well…I…I only know what I h-heard in the circus of course. From…from Uncle Quayle.” A single crystal-like tear trickled slowly down her rosy cheek. “But I…I heard that he’s into…d-dark magic.” 

“Wouldn’t surprise me. He always was into experimenting; he’ll probably try to build his own dragon one of these days.” Zaerini smiled fondly at the thought. 

“And…and that’s not all!” Aerie had red spots on her cheeks by now and she was twining her golden hair nervously between her fingers. “I…I don’t know if I should tell you this b-but…”

“But what?” 

“But…but I h-heard that he…that he does…b-blood magic.” 

“Blood magic?”

“Yes…y-you know…with…with young v-v-virgins…” Aerie blushed heavily. “Abducting them and b-bathing in their b-blood to gain power, that s-sort of thing.”

Zaerini gave her an incredulous look, and then she started laughing in the Avariel’s face. “Edwin? Bathing in the blood of young virgins? That’s one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever heard. For one thing, he’d figure out a way to avoid the sticky, yucky bits and get the power anyway. He’s clever enough for that. And for another thing, he is not the sort who’d ever abduct a woman, virgin or otherwise.” Her face turned stony. “That I _know_.” 

Aerie clasped a delicate hand across her mouth. “Oh! I…I s-said something bad, didn’t I? I…I am so sorry. I’m sure you’re right. I’m…I’m sure those girls were only…only friends.”

“What girls?”

Aerie simply laughed nervously. “I…I shouldn’t say…” 

“WHAT GIRLS?” 

“Well…Uncle Quayle told me…t-told me that…”

“WHAT?”

“That…that the wizard enjoyed the c-company of…of tavern girls and such. He…only m-mentioned it because he was worried for m-me, in case I ever met such a d-dangerous person.”

Rini exhaled slowly. Visions of dancing girls and barmaids were cavorting in front of her eyes, smirking at her and shaking their hips. _She’s wrong. She has to be. She has to be. But what if she isn’t? He ran out on me, and he’s been gone for such a long time, and that note of his said nothing, and then he acted like he didn’t even recognize me right now. No! NO! It can’t be true. It can’t be. I’m angry with him, and I want to smack him for running out on me like that but…I…love him. Despite everything I still do love him. And I will find out what’s going on with him if it’s the last thing I ever do. And if he abandoned me for some girl I’ll…I’ll…I’ll go all Bhaalspawn on him, see if I don’t! He’s mine. The very least he owes me is an explanation._ The half-elf gave Aerie a sidelong glance. The Avariel was still looking nervous, but she was also smiling slightly, as if she was feeling proud of her contribution. A little too proud. 

“Thank you, Aerie,” Zaerini said. “I see things much more clearly now.” _Eddie probably turned you down, didn’t he? And now you’re trying to get back at him by making me jealous. Well, I’m on to you now. I’ll make certain you two come face to face as soon as possible, and then I’ll learn what’s really going on here. Nobody hurts Edwin around me._

“I…I am glad to hear it!” Aerie said, smiling. “You…you aren’t upset with m-me then? I…I was only t-trying to help.”

“Of course not, Aerie,” Rini said in a polite voice. “I know what you were trying to do. Think nothing of it.” _No, think nothing of it. Not until I get my claws properly into you._

_Very good, kitten_ , Softpaws approved. _Play with her._

_Oh, I plan to. But for now, let her think that she’s safe. Right up to the point where I pounce on her._

“You know,” Jan said, grinning at the two women. “That does remind me of a story.”

“Jan, this is an extremely bad time!” Jaheira said. 

“Yes, that’s what my cousin Calpurnia Jansen thought as well. You see, she had met this fine, strapping young gnome, a monkey-herder he was.” 

“Monkey-herder?” the druid asked in a weary voice. 

“That’s right, my sweetness! A fine, cheerful, polite young monkey-herder named Jorge.” The gnome paused, considering. “Well, I exaggerate a bit when I say ‘cheerful’, please don’t tell anybody. It’s very important to keep your facts straight in story telling or nobody will ever take you seriously. In fact, he was rather gloomy. And he wasn’t that polite either, downright rude he was. But at least his name was Jorge, and poor Calpurnia fancied him all the same, which proves that love makes people go more than a little crazy.” 

“Is there a point to this?” Zaerini asked. 

“Of course there is, your worship! You see, the monkey-herder wanted to impress her, so he went and bred himself the largest possible monkey he could think of. Taller than the treetops it was, and extremely ugly, very large in all ways. He called it ‘Mother’.”

“Why in the world would he call it that?”

“Similar personalities. Now don’t interrupt me, there’s a good girl. Anyway, Jorge did this while Calpurnia was out of time visiting relatives, since he wanted it to be a surprise. Then, he made a fatal mistake.” 

“Which was?”

“He tried to ration the peanuts, since he was curious about what it’d do. Poor Jorge, he always was too curious for his own good. The ape immediately turned him over its lap and started spanking him soundly, and Jorge howled like a Banshee. This is when Calpurnia came home, and she heard the screams coming from inside the bedroom.” 

“The giant monkey was inside the bedroom?” Anomen asked, sneering a little. 

“It was, except for the parts sticking out of the roof. But Calpurnia couldn’t see those, since people tend to see only what they expect to see. So, she pounded on the bedroom door, demanding to know what was going on. Jorge told her to go away, but she wouldn’t listen. Finally, he screamed ‘Mother is spanking me!’” Jan fell silent, an expectant look on his face. 

“And?” Rini asked. 

“And Calpurnia decided that this, as I said before, was a very bad time. She went away for good, married the local jailor instead and became very unhappy.” The gnome sniffed. “It’s a tragic love story, really.” 

Rini felt as if her head was slowly drifting away from her body. “Right…” she said. “Thanks, Jan. That was very…helpful.” 

“Always happy to help, your worship!” 

“Minsc doesn’t understand!” Minsc said, looking puzzled. “Minsc wants to know what happened to the poor monkey.” 

“Another time,” Rini hastily said. “Right now, I think we should go and check out the house of the Cowled Wizard. I’m not saying we’ll necessarily kill him, but it can’t hurt to take a look around.” _And then I think I’ll have another little chat with Master Edwin Odesseiron. In private, this time._

Anomen Delryn was feeling confused. This wasn’t an entirely unusual occurrence these days. It wasn’t that he was stupid by any means, despite what his father would frequently tell him when drunk. Right now, events were progressing a bit too swiftly for his tastes though. It was as if he had entered a playhouse halfway through the first act and had to try to figure out what was going on up on the stage, while the actors traded lines with lightning speed. 

For one thing, there was the matter of the Red Wizard. Zaerini clearly knew him, though the relationship seemed less than cordial. _Which is just as well. She was most likely in dire straits at some point, and he took advantage of the fact. I can see no other reason for her to wish to associate with that kind of filth, unless he put her under some sort of sinister spell. Such a lady deserves better, and I will do my utmost to ensure that he does not impose his dark influence on her._

Anomen smiled slightly as he pondered his employer. The half-elf was more than a breath of fresh air in his life, she was a raging storm. That should have bothered him, as should her blatant disregard for authority, custom and proper conduct. On some level it still did, but not as much as it ought to have done. _And I am certain I can instruct her in proper behavior, once I get the opportunity to share with her the true vision of the Order. Besides, she is very comely. Eyes like hot flames, the face of a wild woodland spirit and hair like a…like a…like a crimson rhodelia. Yes, that’s it. A fair lady for all her wild ways, and for all her secrets. I must speak further with her as soon as possible, seek to know her better. Aye, ‘tis my sacred duty even, to foster duty and virtue in the hearts of those I deem might benefit from it! She has a good heart, I know it, and with the proper guidance she could be truly magnificent! Of course, I must be gentle and not too harsh in my instruction, or she might well balk despite the benevolent purpose. She has a temper that could even match dear Moira’s I think._

The cleric frowned. He loved his sister very much, and the thought of her practically alone in the crumbling family home sat heavy on his heart. _Practically alone – except for Father._ That was small comfort. Cor Delryn was a harsh man, even when not in his cups, and these days he was drunk more often than not. Had he been allowed to choose, Anomen would never have left Moira where she was, but his sister had never been one to let him tell her what to do. She had insisted that she remain behind while he sought his lifelong dream of a knighthood with the Order, to take care of their father as best she could. _One day, sweet sister. One day, I will show you that it was not in vain, that the Order deemed me worthy even if our drunken oaf of a sire never did. One day I will take you away from there and give you all the happiness you deserve._

“Do not dawdle!” Jaheira said, giving Anomen a sharp nudge in the side. “Or did you intend to stand about here gawking like a newborn fawn until every wolf in the neighborhood scents easy prey? We can do without a mugging attempt.” It wasn’t as if he felt more than a fraction of the nudge through his armor, but he still gave her a haughty look. The druid had already moved on however and did not even notice his annoyance. She had spoken her reprimand and expected him to comply. Refusal was probably an impossibility as far as she was concerned. _That is one of the most arrogant women…no, one of the most arrogant people I have ever had the misfortune to meet! She seems to be utterly incapable of even considering being wrong about anything! It would do her well to learn some humility methinks. Well, perhaps that may yet be accomplished. What is a frail woman with a stick and some rudimentary healing skills compared to a trained warrior, an almost ordained Knight of the Order, and one graced by the favor of Lord Helm himself? I will be gracious about it however, ‘tis not seemly for a knight to boast of his prowess, no matter how great._

Aerie now, she was behaving in a much more satisfying manner. The elf was timid and shy, perhaps a little too much so, but she was a very pleasant audience, always eager to listen to him and benefit from his advice. Right now, she was leaning on his arm again, her legs tired once more. _Perhaps there is such a thing as too frail. The girl is sweet and demure, but…_

Anomen was unable to even finish the sentence internally, not sure exactly what he was feeling. Unconsciously, his eyes once again drifted towards his party leader. Zaerini was walking in the lead, speaking quietly with the giant lack-wit Minsc, patting his arm as if she was trying to soothe him. From the snatches of conversation Anomen could pick up on, he gathered that it concerned the Red Wizard, and that Minsc was no happier about that one than Anomen himself was. _Fool he may be, but he knows evil when he sees it, just as I do. I pray that my lady will soon see the same, before that serpent mage bites her trusting hand. For if he does, I swear that there will be a steel boot ready to squash his ugly head._

“Anomen!” Aerie said, sounding rather petulant. “Aren’t you…aren’t you l-listening to me? I…I know I am v-very ignorant and not very interesting and if you want me to…to be quiet you only have to s-say so. I…I am used to it.” Her voice took on a deep note of sorrow as she said this last, and Anomen felt a sharp pang of guilt. _I must be more courteous; it does not do to be inattentive towards a lady, particularly not one in distress. And she does mean well, she deserves some sympathy. Though I do wish her voice was a little less…annoying._

“My apologies, my lady,” Anomen said, smiling at the Avariel. “I fear I was deep in thought. Might I ask you to repeat yourself?” 

Aerie smiled shyly up at him in return, blushing a little. “Well…I…I was just s-saying how lucky Zaerini is to…to have you here, and…and me as well. She…she is far too…too trusting about that evil wizard, I fear she m-might get us hurt. But with you here to keep us all safe I am s-sure that you will stop him if…if he tries anything. That is what knights do, isn’t it? Smite evil?” 

“Aye, my lady! That is indeed my sacred duty!” 

“Do you…do you think…no, it is perhaps a foolish idea…” 

“Please, my lady! You need not fear me, mine ears are always ready to attend the words of the virtuous!” 

“Well…I…I was only th-thinking? Is it safe? To…to wait until he tries anything, I mean? He is evil after all; all the Red Wizards are. Shouldn’t we…well…do something b-before he can hurt any innocent people?” 

Anomen paused, thinking. It did sound logical. Wasn’t he duty-bound to serve justice after all? And yet he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that there was something important he was missing. “I…think I should look to my Lord Helm for guidance in this,” he finally said. “And there is also the matter of Lady Zaerini. Her wishes must be taken into consideration, as long as I am sworn to her service, I have a duty towards her.” 

“But…but what if she doesn’t know what’s best for her? What does your duty t-tell you then?” 

Anomen never had the time to answer this, for they had reached their destination at last. The narrow streets and dark alleys opened up into a small plaza here, with a few old stone buildings leaning against each other like tired old men, too stubborn to simply lie down and die. Once they might have been impressive, even beautiful. Once important business meetings might have been conducted here, once there had probably been grand parties, even balls. Ladies in dresses spun from equal parts silk and dreams had walked here, jewels sparkling from their necks and arms, shining in all the colors of the rainbow. Business was probably still done here, but of the kind that vastly preferred concealing shadows to brightly lit offices, and where the exchange of coin depended on what weapon the other negotiator was carrying. There were still ladies as well, and their dresses were still bright enough for any butterfly, but these days the fabric was coarser, the women’s faces harder and more wary, and the gentlemen they met were of the paying kind. 

In the dark, the noises of the streets seemed even louder than in the daytime. Laughter. Drunken singing. And sometimes, sometimes there would be a scream. _We should have waited until the morning_ , Anomen thought. _It was folly to brave these streets at this time of night. And going to confront a Cowled Wizard will not be an easy task under any circumstances, much less when our leader is emotionally distraught._

Determined to be of service Anomen pushed ahead with a mumbled brief excuse for Aerie, oblivious of the acid look the Avariel shot his way. Zaerini stood watching an old gray stone building surrounded by an overgrown and dark garden, and she was conferring with Jan in a low voice. _Probably discussing some sort of…of burglary technique or something similarly dishonorable. May Helm forgive me for associating with that larcenous gnome. Now, I must put this politely._ “My lady!” he said. “I must ask you to reconsider this…this mission. This sort of dark deed will only serve to sink your soul deep into corruption.” 

Zaerini turned her head around to give him an annoyed look, and Anomen was a little taken aback at the way her eyes suddenly seemed to glow in the darkness, like those of a great predator. A large cat, perhaps. “Anomen, this is not a good time!” she hissed. “My soul is…none of your affair.” For an instant a shadow seemed to drift across her face, and the cleric got the impression that she had been about to say something else. “Anyway,” she continued in a more normal voice, “you’re overreacting.” 

“Overreacting? We are talking assassination!” 

“Nah,” Jan cheerfully inserted. “That’s only if we get paid. Until then, it’s plain killing. Perfectly decent.” 

Zaerini sighed. “Look,” she said, meeting Anomen’s eyes straight on. “I need to do this. I…need Edwin to work with me. For Imoen’s sake. And for…other reasons. And if this Cowled Wizard is a threat to his life, then I’m going to deal with that threat. I might not have to kill anybody, but I’m making no promises.” She crossed her arms across her chest and stuck her chin in the air a little, looking up at him. “That’s the deal. Take it or leave it, you’re free to go if that’s how you want it.” 

“I…no. I will come. But I ask that you be careful.” 

The half-elf’s grin was mercurial and made his stomach make a strange little fluttering movement. For some reason his ears suddenly felt very hot. “Of course,” she said. “I’m always careful.” 

Behind him, Anomen could hear Jaheira snort loudly. “In that case,” the druid said in a very dry voice, “I do not doubt that a few prayers will be in order.” 

As the adventurers passed silently through the dark garden, Aerie was concentrating on her breathing patterns. In…pause. Out…pause. Focus. Over and over again, it helped her calm and concentrate on what was ahead. Things were moving more rapidly than she had wished for, and that disturbed her. _I wanted to find the Odesseiron brat, but not quite like this. Not to be taken by surprise. At least I managed to get out of him spotting me, for now. That could have made things very awkward. Where is that accursed assassin though, I wonder? My Mistress said I would get a chance at him as well, and I doubt he’d let the brat run about on his own. He cannot be far off, but if he had seen me he would have done something already, wouldn’t he?_

It would be necessary to adjust her plans a little, it seemed. Her progress with Anomen wasn’t quite as swift as she had wished for, but she was progressing. It was a bit delicate, but she didn’t doubt that things would go as she wished. _I’ll keep the ‘love’ angle open, but if he should prove truly infatuated with the redhead I could use his misguided chivalry as well. He certainly seems keen to ‘protect’ her against the Evil Wizard. With a bit more nudging I could make that work. And there is Minsc as well, he wouldn’t take much persuading. If only I could be certain that I have enough time! But I have to work with what I have. And right now, there is another matter to deal with. That preposterous gnome. He must be removed. Zaerini must not be tempted to decide that one wizard is enough, so I must make certain that there is only one mage available to her. Me._

“Aerie?” Minsc asked, giving the Avariel a concerned look. “Are you all right? You look worried, but Minsc promises that he will let nobody hurt you, and he will squeeze the evil out of anybody who tries, until they’re as dried up and wrinkly as a nasty old vampire at midday. Minsc is very good at squeezing out Evil.” 

“I’m sure you are, Minsc,” Aerie said with a radiant smile and patted the ranger’s giant hand. “And I’ll…I’ll make sure to tell you whenever I need some help with that. There…there is ever so m-much Evil about everywhere…”


	15. Puppy Power and Jolly Wizards

**Cards Reshuffled 15 – Puppy Power and Jolly Wizards**

_There is no single one Ultimate Weapon, since it all depends on what kind of foe you are currently facing. But it is certainly true that one Ultimate Weapon is the unbridled relentless energy of a cheerful, loving little creature, capable of destroying furniture within a ten-mile radius simply by looking at it._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Once Jan had worked his way past a fairly complicated lock, Zaerini and her companions found themselves in a small and dark hallway. A few cloaks hung from a coatrack in one corner; there was a faded old mosaic on the floor portraying a wizard summoning some sort of hideous multi-tentacled creature, and on one wall hung a portrait of another wizard. This second wizard was old and had a long white beard, beady little eyes, a meaty nose and an immensely ugly pointed purple hat. The hat reminded Rini uncomfortably of Elminster, and she didn’t like the way the wizard’s eyes seemed to follow her about the room. “Come on,” she whispered. “Through there…” 

There was a doorway leading into another room, and she could see flickering firelight, so it was probably a living room. Then she frowned. She’d heard something…it had sounded like voices. Squeaky little voices. Carefully she peered around the corner, trying to avoid getting seen. The sight that met her almost made her gasp with surprise, however. 

Behind the doorway there was indeed a living room. A sofa and a couple of armchairs stood in front of the fireplace, where a fire was cheerfully burning. The walls were covered with bookshelves from floor to ceiling, and the books were spilling out into the room, being piled high in heaps on the floor. Her fingers were itching to peruse them, but that wasn’t what had attracted her attention. Four odd little beings were floating in the air, in sitting positions, playing cards. They all were basically humanoid, with sharp little faces dominated by protruding chins and noses and mischievous eyes, and their claws were very sharp. There the similarities ended, however. 

The first of the four looked as if it had been formed from fire, it had flickering flames on its head reminiscent of hair, and its dancing yellow eyes reminded the half-elf a little of her own. It was currently preoccupied with slowly melting the creature that was hovering next to it, a tinkling being formed of living ice. Water was dripping down the back of the ice creature, but it was too busy studying its cards to notice. The third of the beings was red, though a duller, darker red than the fire one, and this one was sort of dribbly and runny, like molten lava. The look in its ruby red eyes was pretty dull as well, and it was scratching its bald head with claws that were a little blunter than those of its fellows. The fourth one was more or less a puff of hot air, and it hissed and steamed like a boiling kettle when it spoke. 

“Ssssilly onessss! No cheatsssss here, you’re all too sussspicious.” 

“But…” the molten lava one said. “Earlier you said that the ace is high, and now…” 

”That’ssss how the rulesssss work!” 

The fire creature snickered. “Rules are boring anyway. Let’s just burn them all!” It started chanting in an eerie, metallic little voice. “Burn…burn…burn…” It giggled loudly and made a loop in the air. 

“That’s all you ever think of!” said the icy one, sniffing. Then it suddenly noticed that its nose was dripping, and it shrieked with terror. “Eeeeee! I’m melting! I’m MELTING!” The fire creature laughed uproariously. 

_Mephits_ , Rini thought, grinding her teeth. _I’d hoped I’d never have to deal with any of those again._ The imp-like creatures were constructed from their respective elements, and she knew all too well how annoying they could be. Still, she’d need to get past them to find Rayic Gethras, she could spot the stairway leading to the second floor on the other side of the room. _We could fight them I suppose, but some of us might be hurt, and we shouldn’t waste our healing spells. Gethras could be dangerous. Besides, we don’t want to warn him off. So, we need to incapacitate them somehow. Hmmm…yes! That should work!_

The bard concentrated, and then reached within herself, deep into that dark well that was the power of the God of Murder nested within her soul. Her voice changed into a perfect imitation of the crackling voice of the fire mephit, and she threw it out, so it seemed to emanate from the creature’s mouth. “Hey!” it said. “You’re cheating, I saw you conjure an ace out of your ear! Yeah, I’m talking to you, the ugly, runny one!” 

“I don’t cheat!” the lava mephit protested. “You’re the one who’s cheating, don’t think I didn’t see you burn that bad hand you got before!” 

“What?” the fire mephit protested. “I didn’t…”

“Yesssss you did!” said the steam mephit. “Cheater! Dirty, rotten little sssssneak!” 

“You’re the cheater, Hissy!” said another voice that sounded like that of the ice mephit. “Huh, think you’re all high and mighty, think you can boss us all around and then cheat at cards.” 

“Hsssss! I don’t cheat! And I’ll sssssscald anybody who sayssss differently!” 

“That’s what you think, fog face!” 

Within seconds the game had deteriorated into a hissing, screaming, biting, clawing and kicking bundle of angry mephitis. Zaerini smirked slightly as she stepped around the corner, casting a Web spell on the distracted creatures. Thick strands of sticky spider web entangled them all in one sticky and very angry heap, which she proceeded to pick up and stuff into an old oaken cabinet. She jammed the door tightly shut with a chair and then dusted her hands off. “See?” she told Jaheira. “I can _too_ be careful!” 

“Hmpf,” the druid said. “No doubt it is too good to last.” 

“Ha! Just you wait and see.” Rini turned around, giving the stairs a considering look. Gethras might be up there, but there might be something else as well, perhaps something more dangerous than a bunch of mephitis. “I think we should scout ahead a little.” 

“Oh, I can handle that,” Jan said. “Be right back.” The gnome wasn’t exactly a master of stealth, but he was good at illusionary magic. After he had mumbled a few arcane syllables he disappeared from sight, and the only sign of him was a faint creak on the staircase as he disappeared upstairs. Shortly afterwards he reappeared, looking rather flustered. “Enemy golems ahead, Captain!” he told Rini. “Three of them, as ugly and bad-tempered as my Uncle Scratchy ever was.” 

“Golems?” Anomen sharply asked. 

“That’s right,” Jan said. “Big, ugly, made of stone or metal, like to break skulls. They’re really just automatons of course, don’t have a thought in their heads. All they can do is follow orders.” He grinned slyly. “Maybe you could pretend to be a long-lost cousin, eh Ano?” 

“You would mock me, you vile little man? Cease and desist or…” 

“Not now!” Minsc admonished, his enormous hands grasping Anomen by the shoulder and Jan by the scruff of the neck. “There is Evil to fight, and we must not frighten it away by fighting our friends! Boo says we must creep on silent hamster feet, and then scream and shout and hack all enemies to little bit.” 

Rini looked at Minsc’s feet, that were about the size of two rowboats. _That’s certainly a new take on assassination, she thought. Not that we’re necessarily going to kill Gethras of course. Let’s just go up there and see what happens._ “Thanks, Minsc,” she said, hardly noticing the eager way Jan’s eyes gleamed as he caught sight of the furry little hamster clinging to Minsc’s shoulder. “I think that says it all. So, anybody got any ideas about those golems?” 

In the end, there didn’t seem to be that many options. It would have been impossible for all of them to sneak past the golems, and they didn’t have that many invisibility spells available. Tricking them would have been difficult, since they didn’t have any minds to speak of. That left fighting. Once several strength and speed enhancing spells had been cast, the adventurers headed upstairs. 

Zaerini recalled the last time she had faced a golem. That time, the only way they’d been able to take it out was by tripping it and making it fall down a very long flight of enchanted stairs. This time, the stairs were made of wood, and there were three golems. _But I’m stronger now. I am. And I can do this._ As the three large forms at the other end of the room turned towards her with an eerily simultaneous movement and charged, she tried to keep that thought firmly in mind. The golems looked a little bit like giant humans hewn from solid rock, with blank and emotionless faces and very large fists. The bard didn’t doubt that a single blow from one of those fists could crack her skull like an egg. _Oh, sure thing, Edwin! Just send me off to get squashed, thanks a lot._

Then she didn’t have time to think any more, as the golems reached her. She dodged and weaved, using her speed and agility to keep out of harm’s way. Her lightly enchanted sword was able to do some damage, but she wasn’t strong enough to more than dent the golems. Anomen was, but his mace bounced uselessly off the golems’ stony hides. Minsc and Jaheira were having better luck, especially Minsc. Sarevok’s old Sword of Chaos whistled through the air with whirlwind speed, and one of the golems tumbled to the ground with a sound like a rockslide. Rini winced a little. _Guess the stealthy approach is out of the question now, unless Gethras is really old and deaf._

The victory hadn’t come without its price though. Minsc’s left arm dangled broken and useless at his side, crushed by a terrible blow. Though he was in enough of a berserker rage not to feel it, it also meant he was forced to try to wield the large sword with only one hand. It wasn’t going very well. Anomen and Aerie simultaneously chanted healing spells, and the ranger rallied, but he was still under dangerous assault. 

“Don’t you worry, Minscey!” Jan shouted. “I’ve got an idea!” The gnome hauled a small metallic object out of his robe, and hastily started unfolding it. Rini stared at the thing. It looked like a dog, a metallic puppy with glowing red eyes and a furiously wagging tail. “Bark!” it said. “Bark, bark, bark!” Then it sat down on its haunches and begged, a red velvet tongue lolling out of its mouth. “This,” Jan said, beaming proudly, “is the Powerful Ultimate Pooch, or P.U.P. for short. I made him as a present for…” He suddenly looked a little sad. “For this little girl I know. Just watch how clever he is! P.U.P.! Roll over!” 

The toy immediately obeyed the command, panting excitedly and whining in a metallic voice. 

Zaerini dodged another blow, feeling her sword tremble in her aching hands. “Jan!” she shouted. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

_Playing with an abomination, that’s what_ , Softpaws remarked in a disgusted voice. _As if real dogs aren’t bad enough, now he has to go and make a…a fake one._

“No fear!” Jan said. “I’m getting to it!” He pointed at the golems. “P.U.P.! Underfoot!” The little dog barked happily and zipped off towards the golems like a flash of metallic lightning. The golems didn’t look surprised, but that was only because their faces weren’t really equipped to display any kind of emotion. One of them tried to kick the toy puppy out of the way, and the other tried to step on it. Both found themselves stumbling as the speedy toy deftly wove in and out between their feet. 

“Jan!” Jaheira shouted. She had a nasty bruise across her cheek, and she was limping. “This is not funny!” She slammed her quarterstaff up against the face of one of the golems, her entire upper body vibrating as she struck the unyielding surface. 

Jan was rubbing his hands by now with a maniacal grin on his face. “Just a moment, oh so humorous one! Just a moment. P.U.P.! Business Meeting!”

The dog’s red eyes took on a look of utter bliss and raised its hind leg against the leg of one of the remaining golems. A forceful stream of black, slick oil shot out and made a large puddle on the floor. As the two golems’ large feet started slipping about uncontrollably, they clutched desperately at each other like two little children, and this time there was just a hint of emotion on their stony faces. Utter panic, that was. 

“Move it!” Rini screamed as she threw herself to the floor and rolled away from the immediate vicinity of the golems, blindly dragging the closest of her companions with her. From the surprised squeal she thought it had to be Aerie. Then she was on the ground, and she stared at the scene in front of her, that seemed to be taking place magically slowly so she could see every detail. The golems were in the air, arms and legs flailing as the fell, and then there was a deafening crash followed by a sound like breaking crockery. One of the golems had accidentally bashed the other’s face in, while that one had its foot firmly planted inside the chest of the first. P.U.P. was standing on top of the head of one of the broken golems, barking happily and wagging his metallic tail so swiftly that it was just a blur in the air. 

As for herself, she seemed to be intact, apart from having acquired a splinter or two in her hand. She winced slightly as she pulled it out, happy to see that all her friends seemed unharmed as well and were slowly getting to their feet. All except for Jan, who was patting P.U.P. on the head and telling him what a good dog he was. “Jan?” she asked. “Business meeting?”

The gnome winked. “Ah, there’s a story to that, your worship! You see, P.U.P. needs to release excess oil from time to time, and the father of the little girl I was planning to give him to is in ‘business’, and is also a turnip-hating scum of the first magnitude. I was just thinking ahead a little, thinking it might liven things up.”

“Riiight…I suppose that makes…sense…” The half-elf looked about, noticing a second stairway, leading further into the building. “I suppose Gethras will be up there, if he’s home.” 

“You…do you honestly mean to k-kill him?” Aerie pleaded. “Please, you should r-reconsider. That…that evil wizard will only d-drag you down to his level by making you do such a thing.” 

_I don’t really think you’d mind being dragged down to his level all that much, kitten_ , Softpaws said, pausing only to give P.U.P. an annoyed look. _Not if it included that thing you people do with your lips._

_Kissing?_

_Yes, that. Stupid dog…why couldn’t Jan have built an artificial cat instead? We’re much smarter and prettier._

_Never mind._

Zaerini shrugged, giving Aerie a neutral look as she resheathed her sword. “We’ll see what happens with Gethras. I intend to make sure he doesn’t harm Edwin, but there might be a different way of doing that than killing him. Or maybe he’s dead already. We haven’t exactly acted like silent assassins so far; I’m surprised he hasn’t turned up yet to see what all the noise is about.” It was then that she noticed that all her friends were staring strangely at her. “What?”

“Behind you…” Jaheira said in a strangled voice. “Just over your right shoulder.” 

Rini hastily turned her head, and then she found herself staring into a pair of beady, dark little eye. Disembodied eyeballs that was, floating freely in the air right next to her face, and they didn’t look happy to see her. “Um…” she said. “What…” Then she recognized the eyes. They were the eyes of the portrait of the wizard downstairs, the eyes that had appeared to follow her around the room. _Guess I was more right about that than I knew._

“Who are you?” said a disembodied voice from somewhere beneath the eyes, and now a mouth appeared as well, something that was very unsettling to watch. “And what are you doing in my house?” 

_Ouch. Yes, the ‘silent assassin’ option is definitely out._

Rayic Gethras slowly materialized, giving Zaerini and her companions an accusing look. “Well?” he said. “I asked you what you are doing in my home. I warn you, I am a member of the Cowled Wizards, and not to be trifled with.” 

Zaerini looked at the ugly pointed hat the wizard was wearing and then felt her mouth opening of its own accord. “If you’re a Cowled Wizard, then how come you’re wearing that unsightly thing? What are you trying to do, rival Elminster as ‘Worst Dressed Wizard Of Toril’? If so, you might as well give up at once.” _Dear gods, that was something Edwin might have said. I miss him…and I’ll sock him in the nose for making me do this job for him._

The wizard’s mouth tightened a little. “I wear my cowled robe at work,” he said. “Right now, I am at home, and unfortunately, so are you.” 

“Yes, well, there’s a reason for that.” Rini drew a deep breath, preparing herself for the worst. “I’ve come to speak with you about another wizard. One Edwin Odesseiron.” 

The bard then felt a nervous flutter in her stomach as she watched the wizard’s wrinkled face turn as purple as his robe. “Edwin Odesseiron?” he screeched. “EDWIN ODESSEIRON?! That…that scheming, aggravating, rude, offensive little excuse for a hedge-wizard! If you’re his friends, then YOU WILL DIE A PAINFUL DEATH! HE HAS SINNED AGAINST THE GREAT ONE!” Veins were pulsing at his temples as he raised his hands to cast a spell. 

Bluish-white lightning flashed through the air, leaving the sharp smell of ozone behind, and Rini was just barely able to dodge it. _Yikes! Looks like Eddie still has his old gift for making friends and gaining influence intact._ “Hey!” she shouted. “Stop it! Can’t we talk about this first?”

“Talk? TALK? Don’t you know what that fiend of a wizard did to me?”

“Um…no?”

“He…when he learnt I was on his trail to have him incarcerated for illegal use of magic he stole my membership card in the ‘Elminster’s Jolly Little Wizard’s Fanclub, and…and he…sent it on to my superiors, along with the pure and perfect poem I’d written to His Augustness’ honor. And then they…then they threw me out for conduct unbecoming a Cowled Wizard! And he made a very nasty joke about pointy hats too! I’ll kill him for that. And all of you as well, just you wait! I will not be made a laughing-stock like this!”

The wizard was clenching and unclenching his hands in maniacal manner, and his face was twisted into a snarling mask of rage. “Jolly Little Wizard’s Fanclub?” Jaheira asked, her voice disbelieving. “Is that not something meant for the _children_ of the Realms?”

“I don’t care! I’ve been a member since the club was founded eighty years ago, and I’ll be one till the day I die. I know all the secret signs, I have the decoder ring, I know the anthem by heart!” Gethras placed his hand across his heart and started singing, tears of devotion streaming down his face. 

_Who’s the leader of the pack,  
That hangs around the bar?_

_E-L-M-I-N-S-T-E-R!_

_Ho there, ho there, ho there,  
He’s the handsomest by far! _

_E-L-M-I-N-S-T-E-R!_

_Elminster!_

_Elminster!_

_Pointy hats held high! Pointy heads below!_

_Join the dance! Fall in trance!  
He’ll suck you in like a pit of tar! _

_E-L-M-I-N-S-T-E-R!_

_Come young one, and join the fun, and walk His Greatness’ road,  
Worship him, adore him, or find yourself a toad! _

_Ho there, ho there, ho there,  
He’s the handsomest by far! _

_E-L-M-I-N-S-T-E-R!_

Once the singing stopped there was silence for a few moments. 

“Th-that,” Aerie said, her face pale, “was…was v-very scary. And painful.” 

“Not to mention out of tune,” Rini added. “Geez! I think my ears are about to fall off.” 

“Minsc doesn’t understand,” Minsc said. “What is with the pointy hats? Sweet Dynaheir never had one, and she was a very good Witch.” 

“Ah,” Jan said. “There’s a small secret to that, or so I’ve heard.” The gnome’s eyes sparkled mischievously when next he spoke. “2000 years will take their toll, and I’ve heard that the only reason why Elminster doesn’t look more ancient than he does is because he’s used so many ‘Face-Lift’ spells that the entire pointy hat is stuffed full of loose skin.” 

“THAT IS NOT TRUE!” Rayic Gethras screamed. His entire body was quivering by now. “HE IS A VERY HANDSOME AND CHARMING MAN, ACTUALLY! YOU WILL BURN IN THE ABYSS FOR SAYING SUCH THINGS, YOU EVIL, BAD PERSON!” 

“Huh,” Rini scoffed. “Charming? Handsome? With all those gross brown stains all over his beard? I hope they’re nicotine, but the smell suggests he’s actually using that excess hair for sanitary purposes. And speaking of hair, his mustache doesn’t just sit below his nose, it grows out of it. I’ve met him in person, I should know.”

“NOOOOO! NOOOOO! THAT’S NOT TRUUUUUEEE! THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE!” 

“Oh, come on, search your feelings. You know it to be true.”

“NOOOOOAAAAARRRRGHHHH!” Rayic Gethras had now shifted from a purple hue to a blue one, and with a final gurgled gasp he slumped to the ground. 

Anomen hastily moved over to the fallen man, checking his pulse. “I fear he is dead,” he said in a solemn voice. “The strain was too much for his heart.” 

“Ooops,” Rini said, grinning a little sheepishly. “I didn’t know that was gonna happen, honestly! I was only baiting him to make him lose his composure. To give us an advantage in the fight, you know.” 

“The p-poor man…” Aerie said. “He was in such p-pain towards the end, I could…I could sense it clearly.” 

“Minsc still does not understand,” Minsc said. “What were those stains meant to be if not…” Then he paused, inclining his ear towards the hamster on his shoulder. “Oh! Boo has explained it all! Little Rini is a very naughty girl, but it was good fun just the same!” 

“Can we leave now?” Jaheira asked. “There is nothing else for us here.” 

“Oh, all right,” Rini said. “Let’s go.” She gave the dead wizard a final look as she stepped across his prone body. _Poor bugger_ , she thought. _But he really brought it on himself._

Heading back towards Mae’Var’s guild the bard was quite chagrined to find herself humming the tune to what she had come to think of as the ‘Elminster Adoration Song’. As ridiculous as the lyrics were, the tune was still a catchy one. And she was in a good mood. _I bet that’s the first time in the history of assassination that anybody ever got killed by an insult. One for the history books, maybe? Eddie should enjoy that story._ Then she remembered that she was still angry with the Red Wizard. _Well, after I have a little talk with him about that stupid nonsensical note he left me of course. And about how he ran out on me. He owes me an explanation. Then I might forgive him._ She lost herself in pleasant contemplation on just how such forgiveness might be administered. 

“Child,” Jaheira said, nudging her arm, “we need to have a word.”

“Hmmm? What about?” 

“About the wisdom, or lack thereof, of putting your trust in Edwin.”

“I have no idea what you mean.” 

The druid scoffed, making an annoyed, cutting gesture with her hand. In the darkness, her clothes of green and brown looked almost black. “You know perfectly well what I mean. We could all have got killed just now, in the place where he sent us.”

“No! It wasn’t like that! He wouldn’t try to harm me.” 

“No? Have you already forgotten how you cried for his sake when he left?” Jaheira’s voice turned milder. “Child, I know you have…feelings for him. I do not blame you for it; I only want to keep you from being hurt. Sometimes…sometimes we think we have something perfect within our hands, but it does not turn out the way we wanted it to. Sometimes we have to accept the world as it is, not as we would wish it to be.”

“No. I know him.” 

“Do you? Or do you simply know what he wanted you to see? The Red Wizards are well known for their complex plots. Perhaps the way we first encountered him was not entirely coincidental, did you ever think of that? That maybe he was only using you?”

Zaerini closed her eyes briefly, hugging herself. The night wind seemed to have taken on a sudden chill. “Of course I did,” she said. “Over and over again…” Fury and grief had alternated in her heart during those dark days back in Baldur’s Gate. One moment she had been certain something terrible must have happened to the wizard to make him run off like that. The next she had been filled with terrible self-doubt, thinking that maybe he had never cared one bit about her in the first place, that maybe she had only been a lowly pawn in some Thayvian game. She still didn’t know what to think. _Except that I miss him. Oh gods, I miss him so much._

_Of course you do, kitten_ , Softpaws said. The black cat was riding on her mistress’ shoulder, and right now she was nudging her a little with her nose. _There is unfinished business between you, and maybe more._

_More?_

_You have to talk to him. You’ll never be satisfied until you do._

_Yes. You’re right._

_Of course I am. I’m a full-grown cat, not a silly kitten like you. Now, tail up, and saunter in there proudly. That’s more like it._

“I don’t know what is true,” Rini said as she pulled open the door to Mae’Var’s guild house. “All I know is that I must talk to him. Alone, and without interference. I’d like you and the others to stay downstairs and let me go up alone this time.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes. Very sure.” The half-elf flicked her red hair back across her shoulder, and then headed up the stairs, a sharp and anticipatory smile on her face. _Think you can run out on me do you, Edwin Odesseiron? Well, you’re about to learn differently. Like it or not, I’m not finished with you yet._

_Careful_ , Softpaws warned, her mental voice sounding very amused. _Don’t claw him too badly or he’ll be no use at all when the time comes for your mating._

_Ha! I may love him, but I haven’t forgiven him yet. And I wouldn’t claw him. Much. At least not if he can explain himself._ Zaerini had reached the top of the stairs by now, and pulled the door open, bracing herself. Then she looked inside the room and gasped with horror.


	16. No Smoke Without Fire

**Cards Reshuffled 16 – No Smoke Without Fire**

_The Kiss of Life might sound like a promising way to get in close contact with your chosen mate, but there may be certain unforeseen complications. Trust me on this; these complications are not something you want to experience for yourself unless you’re very kinky._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Edwin had clearly fallen asleep at his writing desk, hunched over a bunch of old parchments in a way that looked extremely painful on the back. Worse, his candle had burned clear down and was even now in the process of setting fire to the table next to him. It looked as if it might spread to his robe at any moment and the air of the room was heavy with black smoke. 

“Edwin!” Zaerini screamed. When this didn’t seem enough to wake the wizard up, she took a flying leap instead, tackling him to the floor and out of immediate harm’s way. Then she scrambled to her feet again, looking wildly about the room. When she spotted a heavy blanket lying on the bed, she didn’t hesitate to snatch it up and throw it over the smoldering table. It seemed to work. There was still smoke, but the flames had gone out. Her heart fluttering wildly, the half-elf once again went to her knees, shaking the unconscious man by the shoulders. At least he was breathing steadily, and he didn’t seem to be burnt. That was something. _Why won’t he wake up though? Come on, Eddie! Talk to me!_

“You…you stupid wizard!” Rini muttered as she tried to awaken the wizard by pinching his nose, then by gently rubbing his chest. It didn’t seem to have any effect. “Falling asleep with a lit flame like that…do you want to get killed? Well, don’t you think you’ll be getting away from me that easily! I’m not done with you, not by a long shot. No way.” She paused. Edwin looked rather pale, but apart from that… _He’s so good-looking…even better than I remembered. Maybe…maybe I should try the kiss of life._

_He’s already breathing, kitten_ , Softpaws said. The black cat had leapt onto the bed and was watching the proceedings, looking fascinated. 

_I know that! But…but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give him a little extra air. I’m sure he needs it. I’m only trying to think of his health you know._

_Oh, of course. And I’m a Hell Hound._

_There’s no need to be like that._ The bard drew a deep breath. _Here goes. Let’s do it now, before I have the time to regret this._ She bent down, closer to the wizard’s face. Closer…closer…almost there…

“Urrrrggggg….” Edwin groaned. Then his dark eyes suddenly flew open and a sickly greenish tinge spread across his face. And then there was a very loud sound, approximately ‘BRRRAAAUUUURRRRPPP!’ and a terrible stench filled the room. 

Silence. Deep, deep silence. Zaerini looked down on her now completely ruined shirt. She looked up again, staring into the pale face of an utterly mortified Red Wizard. “Well,” she said. “Thanks for that welcome. Looks like you were really happy to see me, Edwin. Ecstatic even.” 

“Um…” the wizard said. “Zaerini? Is that you?”

“No. It’s my stinking, puke-covered, evil and very pissed off twin. I’m so happy to see you haven’t lost your social skills entirely.” 

“Ha! It wasn’t my fault!” Edwin had managed to pull himself into a sitting position now, and some of the old fire was back in his eyes. “Can I help it if your skills in the healing arts are so non-existent that you’d assault a sick man? (Next she’ll be healing headaches with an axe.)” 

“You’d be burnt to a crisp right now if it wasn’t for me, and then you’d finally be some use! I could sell you as a street sign for ‘The Burned Wizard’ back in Beregost, and earn some money. Besides, it would shut you up.” 

“I’ll have you know I’m very useful around here! Mae’Var trusts me implicitly, and I actually am very happy about this new and lucrative career! Or I was, until you waltzed in here and started assaulting me. (Of all the thieves guilds in all the cities in all of Faerun, she had to walk into this one.)” 

The wizard sounded completely serious as he said this, but there was the smallest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth, one that he was probably unaware of himself. _Gotcha, Eddie!_ Rini thought to herself, and allowed herself a small smirk of her own. _You always were a terribly bad liar._ “Whatever,” she said. “Now, where do you keep your spare clothes? I need to change.”

“Change?” Edwin practically squeaked. “What…what do you mean? Change? How? Now? Here?” 

“Yes, Edwin. Since you managed to throw up all over me, I need to A) Wash off and B) Change my clothes. And unless you mean for me to do it downstairs in your employer’s little cozy torture chamber, this seems like a perfect spot.” She paused. “After you turn your back of course.” 

“Turn my back…” 

“Unless you thought you could watch?”

“W-watch….” 

_Oh, sweet vengeance…_ “Didn’t think so,” the half-elf said in a decisive tone of voice, and then moved over to the dresser. “Are you going to be a gentleman and find me something, or do you want me to search through your underwear drawer?”

“NO! I…I mean…no. I’ll find you something.” 

“Oh, good. You have something other than mage robes; I hope? Somehow I don’t think the Red Wizards would appreciate me impersonating one of them.” 

Softpaws’ silent chuckle echoed through her Mistress’ brain. _Kitten, you’re doing very well. Keep him off-balance and play a little with him._

_Oh, I don’t want to embarrass him too much. Besides, if I did let him watch…I’d…I’d be pretty much embarrassed too. But he doesn’t need to know that._

As it turned out, Edwin did have some other clothes at hand other than mage robes. After all, he needed to wear something beneath them. Zaerini washed off, whistling cheerfully to herself, and then she pulled on her borrowed shirt. High quality it was, if a bit worn, and very nice and soft. It was a bit large, reaching mid-thigh level, and gaped a bit at the throat, but it would do. Grinning to herself she silently walked over towards the door, and then swiftly pulled it open. Edwin fell into the room with a strangled cry of surprise. It seemed that he had been standing in a bent-over position, his eyes very close to the keyhole. 

“Looking for something?” Rini sweetly asked him. 

“Absolutely not! I…I was tying my shoe.” 

Zaerini looked down and carefully studied the wizard’s shoes. Very nice they were, pointy, embroidered, colorful, stylish and completely lacking any form of laces. “Tying your shoe,” she said in a neutral voice, arching a delicate red eyebrow. “I see.” 

“I…I wouldn’t expect a barbarian like yourself to understand about the fine and intricate Thayvian craft of making…uh…invisible shoelaces for the sole use of superior and skilled wizards such as myself. They’re very mysterious. Mysterious and powerful. Yes. That’s it. (Phew. That ought to be enough to fool her.)” 

“Uh-huh. Well, I guess you were so busy with your mysterious and powerful invisible shoelaces that you never noticed that I’d happened to hang my vest right across the keyhole. I’m glad you weren’t bored.” 

“Edwin Odesseiron is never bored! With a magnificent mind like mine I am able to occupy my thoughts and entertain myself under any possible circumstances!” The wizard’s eyes drifted towards the half-elf standing before him, paying particular attention to the way her collarbones and a hint of her pale shoulders showed in the overly large shirt. “That is…I…(By every ancient Zulkir’s burnt bones, does she have to move about like that? How am I supposed to concentrate when she…oooohhh…)” 

“If you say so,” Rini said, taking the wizard by the arm and guiding him to a seat on the bed. As for herself she sat down on the chair, backwards so that she could lean her elbows and chin on the back of it. Before washing she had aired the room out, and though there was still a smell of smoke in the air, at least it was possible to breathe properly. “Now. Cut the crap and talk to me. Why did you run out on me back in Baldur’s Gate? I’m not budging an inch from here until you tell me _something_.” 

Edwin squirmed uncomfortably on the bed, not meeting her eyes. “I told you. I left you that letter, or did you forget already? Is your poor, undeveloped monkey-brain unable to keep such things in mind for any longer than it takes you to locate your next banana?” 

Rini felt familiar anger dangerously close to flaring up. Her face was growing hot, and she knew that her eyes were burning as wildly as those of Sarevok ever did. 

_He’s trying to provoke you into changing the subject_ , Softpaws warned. The cat was busily washing her fur, and as she gave Edwin a pointed look, she proceeded to pay very close attention to her inner thigh. _Don’t let him. Ask him to help you do this instead._ Her tongue performed a complicated corkscrew movement. 

_Softy!_

_What? It feels very nice. But if you insist on carrying out your entire courting ritual by shouting, by all means, be my guest._

“I know you left me a letter,” Zaerini said in a low and dangerous voice. “One that said absolutely nothing, except that you ‘had important business elsewhere’ and ‘could no longer spare the time’ and ‘didn’t expect me to be able to understand’. And several other ridiculous phrases like that. I know that letter by heart. And do you know _how_ I know?” 

Edwin mutely shook his head, not meeting her eyes. 

“Because I read it over and over again, trying to figure out why you would treat me like that, hurting my feelings like that. Especially since I thought we were…friends.”

“Do you…still have that letter?” the Red Wizard asked, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. 

“No.” His face fell a little. “No,” Rini went on, getting to her feet. “I lost it.” She stared out the window, telling herself that it was only the traces of smoke in the air that made her eyes blur. “I lost it when I was…when I was abducted and tortured for months by this insane wizard in a leather mask. And then…and then I lost Imoen too. The Cowled Wizards…they took her. I’m trying to find her, you know. And if you want to – I could really use your help. But only if you really want to. I didn’t mean what I said before about one year’s service. If you really want to go…I won’t hold you to it.” She bit her lip, trying to keep her face composed. “I only wanted an explanation.” 

She stared out the window, expecting him to ask her to leave. And then she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders, gently turning her around, and he was standing close to her. So very close. The wizard’s face was tense, but his dark eyes were alight with some deep emotion, something she couldn’t quite fathom. “I…do not want to,” he said. “Not anymore. I am still your…your friend.” He voice was pained. “I cannot explain all of why I did as I did before. I am not the only one concerned. But you should know…part of it is that I am currently not on entirely friendly terms with the Red Wizards. It is not safe to be in my presence.” 

“Ha!” The half-elf smiled through her tears. “You’re talking to a Child of Bhaal. Since when was my company ever safe for _you_?”

For a second or two Edwin looked completely flabbergasted. Then he smiled faintly. “Ah…would you know I never really thought of it that way?” Then his face suddenly set with anger, deep and murderous rage. “What was that you said just now? Abducted? _Tortured_? Who has dared…” He was holding her hands now, squeezing them so tightly it hurt a little. 

Zaerini shook her head, reaching up to touch the wizard’s lips with her fingertips. “Sssh…not now. I’ll tell you all about it later.” Her skin felt as if it were suddenly on fire. “Um…Edwin? Have you got something in your eyes?”

“Smoke,” the Red Wizard said in a firm voice, blinking a little as he held onto her other hand. “It…it is still rather smoky in here, don’t you think?”

“Yeah…smoky.” And as they say…where there is smoke…there is fire. Yes…fire… There’s still unfinished business, but it’ll work out somehow. I know it will. “Want to go downstairs and be properly introduced to the others?”

“In a moment,” Edwin said. He kept watching her face intently, studying it as if he had never seen it before. “I just need to be absolutely certain that you are no hallucination and will not suddenly turn into a half-orc with tusks as long as my fingers and the temper of a constipated dragon.” 

Zaerini laughed, a free, happy laughter. “Oh, Eddie…” she said. “I’ve missed you too.” 

_Meanwhile…_

“So, Aerie,” Jan said, giving the Avariel a sly look. “Where’s your little green cap?”

“M-my green cap?” Aerie asked, her voice hesitant. “I…I don’t know…”

“You don’t?” the gnome said. “And here I thought all priests of Baervan Wildwanderer were supposed to wear one, at least for services. I’m sure it’d look very fetching on you too, maybe it could become fashionable among other elves as well.”

Aerie’s mind was working fast. She’d been afraid of this. Posing as a cleric of a gnomish deity was all well and fine but having an actual gnome around to ask questions was not, and certainly not when he wasn’t under her control. She could probably get away with being newly initiated up until a point, but she couldn’t come across as totally ignorant. _Curse that gnome! Is there no way to shut him up?_ “W-well…” she eventually said, shyly lowering her eyes. “I…I know I am a bit ignorant still…but Uncle Quayle spoke more of the faith as a…as a whole. Not so m-much about the higher rituals.” 

“And quite rightly too!” Jan agreed. The gnome was amusing himself with the lock picking training room that had been set up inside Mae’Var’s guildhouse. Rows of doors lined the walls, each of them tightly locked with a lock of increasing difficulty, and each of them protecting a tiny alcove that held a few coins or small magical items that had been lost by those thieves who had previously tried and failed. So far Jan was winning. “What’s in the heart is far more important than what’s on the head, that’s what I’ve always thought. In fact, that reminds me of a story.” 

_Aaarrrghhh! Not again! Die, you stupid gnome! Die, die, DIE!_ “Wh-what story?” Aerie said, making herself smile sweetly. She desperately looked around to see if she might divert the gnome’s attention to one of her other companions, but it didn’t seem likely. Jaheira and Anomen were sitting at a table by themselves, not talking. Both of them were watching the stairs leading up to the third floor with almost identical scowls on their faces. Minsc was sitting next to her, but he was quite preoccupied with feeding Boo. 

“Well,” Jan said as he fiddled with yet another look. “It really concerns one of my cousins, Agraminta Jansen. She was obsessed with hats, you see. Had one for every day of the week, every hour of the day. Red, blue, yellow, purple, black, striped, plumed, you name it. She was fond of dressing up too, pretending to be things. She always said it’d make her famous one day.” 

“R-r-really?” For once Aerie’s stutter was entirely genuine. _Does he know? Or suspect? Have I slipped up somehow?_

“Oh yes. She’d wear a cook’s hat one day, a sailor’s cap another, or maybe a beekeeper’s veil. One day she made a bad mistake though. See, she thought she’d dress up as a moose, and she strapped a pair of antlers to her head, before skipping off into the forest, mooing happily.” 

“I…I didn’t know that moose sounded like…” 

“Well, I’m sure there’s many things you don’t know, missy. Green caps, remember? But anyway, there cousin Agraminta was, mooing happily and scrubbing her antlers against trees, happy as a tot in a turnip pie. And then – disaster!” Jan grinned widely as he said the last word, and Aerie found herself captivated despite herself. 

“What…what happened?” 

“She’d forgotten that the annual Amnian moose hunt began that day, I’m afraid. Suddenly she was faced with two dozen hunters, all armed with crossbows. ‘No!’ she called out. ‘I am not a moose!’ So, then they shot her of course, seeing how rare talking moose are.” Jan scratched his beard as he used his other hand to disarm a nasty poison trap on one of the doors. “She was right though. She did get famous; her head is still mounted on the wall in the Great Hall of the Roenall estate. But it goes to show that antlers on your head won’t do any good if you aren’t a moose at heart.”

“I…I see…” Aerie said, feeling as if her head was spinning. _He knows! He has to! He’s trying to…to provoke me somehow. Make me make a mistake. Well, I won’t play by his rules! It’s time for him to have a little ‘accident’ I think._ “I…I think I’ll just stretch my legs a little…” The Avariel retreated into the shadows near the wall, pretending to be indifferent to what was going on around her. Jan winked at her, and then went back to his traps. _I have to do it now. He hasn’t told anybody of his suspicions yet, if that is what they are, but it could happen at any moment. And even if he doesn’t suspect he is still a threat. Yes, it has to happen now._ Aerie gave the stairs leading to the third floor a brief look. She hoped Zaerini would be a few moments longer. What the girl had to say to the Odesseiron brat she didn’t know, but she didn’t like to be even this close to him. She had tried to remain downstairs, on the pretext of being frightened by the presence of so many wicked people, but Zaerini had flatly informed her that she didn’t want the party split up and that she would be safer with the rest of them. _I cannot afford to be spotted by Odesseiron. True, when last he saw me, he was a mere child, but the risk is still too great. And then there is that_ gods-damned _assassin! This is just the sort of place where I’d expect to run into him, and he would know my face._

True, she wanted to confront her old enemies, but on her terms, and at a time of her choosing. This situation was not to her liking at all, but there seemed to be little she could do about it right now, except to be circumspect. _Jan, on the other hand…I have to take the chance, now that I have a perfect opportunity._

Aerie let her hands slide into the sleeves of her robe so it wouldn’t be obvious that she was casting her spell, and she took care to keep her voice down to a faint whisper. Loviatar would hear her and understand the need for secrecy. She could feel the divine power of her Mistress coursing through her, and it reached out for the trap Jan was working on. Carefully, carefully – and the trap went off with a loud bang. The blast hit the gnome full in the face and he was thrown to the ground, unconscious and with smoldering clothes. 

Anomen hastily cluttered to his feet, Jaheira spit out an oath and did the same. But it was Aerie who reached the fallen gnome first, throwing herself on her knees next to him. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “How…how t-terrible! Wait, I will h-help him…oh my…” _I’ll help him all right. Help him into the afterlife, and hopefully it will be one with a permanent turnip famine._ She reached out a hand towards the gnome’s chest, preparing to cast her next spell. _Just a little nudge…and his heart will stop forever. And then I’ll weep, and cry, and impress everybody with what a sensitive soul I am to be able to mourn that annoying creature so deeply._

And then there was a shout of surprise coming from the top of the stairs, and the Avariel instinctively turned her head, before realizing her mistake in doing so. Zaerini was standing there, her hand on the railing, and it was she who had shouted. But that wasn’t the worst part. There was a man standing right next to her, a tall, dark man with a neat beard and a hideous dangling chain hanging from his nose. He was wearing blood red mage robes, and he was staring straight into her eyes. He certainly had grown a great deal taller since last she saw him, and she was fairly certain that his guardian wouldn’t have approved of that nose ring, but Aerie didn’t doubt his identity for one second. And judging by the look of intermingled hate and fear on his face, he certainly recognized her as well. Perhaps seeing her bent down over a prone body had helped him along. 

“You!” Edwin said, practically spitting out the word. 

Aerie decided to waste no time with words or challenges, seeing that her cover was already destroyed. Snarling with fury she leapt to her feet, already moving her hands in the graceful patterns necessary to cast a spell. _Loviatar, aid me now! All is not yet lost. I may slay them still, and even should I fail in that, my escape will grant me the opportunity to strike at them another day._

A spray of intense cold and ice shot out from her fingertips like a fan, narrowly missing the Red Wizard as he threw himself against the side of the railing, pulling the surprised Zaerini with him. There was no more time to launch another attack. Minsc was still looking utterly confused at this unexpected turn of events, but Jaheria was coming for her. The druid’s green eyes had narrowed to mere slits, and her face was hard as she approached, quarterstaff ready. Anomen seemed almost as baffled as Minsc for a second, but then he took a closer look at the now frozen and splintered part of the wall that had been hit by Aerie’s spell and apparently came to a conclusion. Lifting his mace, he followed Jaheira’s example, heading for the Avariel, and he looked furious enough to go into a berserker rage. 

_No more time_ , Aerie thought. _I am outnumbered and have lost the element of surprise._ Cursing inwardly she twisted a slender ring on her finger, its spell of invisibility immediately cloaking her from sight. Before either of the other clerics had the time to counteract her spell, she had already slipped down the stairs, escaping Mae’Var’s guild and was heading into the dark streets of the Docks. _You have won this time_ , she thought. _But you are mistaken if you think I will give up so easily. I may no longer be able to strike from close by, but there are other ways_. She thought about one such way, an alternative plan she had formulated when she was still with the circus and had chanced to notice a person who stood out from the crowd in more ways than one. _Yes. It might take some time, but that will do nicely. Now to figure out a way to make contact, and to gather some useful thralls…that last bit shouldn’t prove too difficult. I may have been unlucky just now, but I still have my touch._

Aerie smiled faintly to herself, her blue eyes glittering with dark amusement. _Yes, I will enjoy this very much. This minor setback will only serve to make my final victory all the sweeter. And I will savor their pain for the glory of my Mistress._

At about the same time that these events were taking place, Yoshimo was also out and about, making his way across the vast Athkatlan Graveyard District. The silent abodes of the dead were all around, with fine tendrils of mist drifting between the tombs and headstones, but he paid them little mind. It was by far more sensible to worry about the residents of said tombs. His mission had failed, at least for now, and he knew that neither of his employers would be pleased to hear that. The best he could hope for would be to be left alive and whole afterwards. 

_How could I ever allow myself to wind up in this position? I, Yoshimo. The clever one, the one with the constant jokes and the witty words, the one who sets traps for others. But now I am the one trapped._

It had seemed so simple and logical at first. Vengeance. Surely one of the most primal urges in a person, and a very understandable one. _Tamoko…sister. What would you think of this? Once I would have thought you would approve of my actions, but now I am no longer certain. Things have changed._

His sister. His brave, loving, clever, foolish sister, who had sought love and found death. Death at the hands of a Bhaalspawn, as she fought for her lover Sarevok. That was what the people spoke of her now. Though not all of them used so kind words as that. Yoshimo had taken it upon himself to correct the ones who did not, and teach them proper courtesy, in a very permanent manner. He had not been able to find his sister though. 

_Her body…still buried beneath that dark temple, her spirit lost, adrift. And so, I vowed to find her slayer, and avenge her. Any aid would be welcome to achieve that goal I thought. But that was before I learnt what I know now of my employers, and of my target._

_I liked her. Tamoko, forgive me. I cannot hate her any longer. Not even for you._

_I would have betrayed her though, had I got the chance. But now…what will those two say now? Surely…surely they must understand that there is nothing more I can do?_

Yoshimo shivered briefly as he approached a particular tomb. This one was much larger than the surrounding ones, with marble pillars and a pointed roof, and with marble statues of cloaked and helmeted knights standing guard like silent sentinels outside. _Surely I must be able to explain?_

As the bounty hunter looked up, he saw that the moon was out by now, hanging low and yellow over the city of the dead. The swift and erratically moving shape of a large bat flickered across it, eyes glowing red with hunger. It was followed by another one, and yet another. 

_Trapped like a poor mouse with only one way left to run. Tamoko…what will I do now?_

Black and humanoid shapes emerged from the deep shadows between the tombs, beckoning him forth. Yoshimo bowed briefly and followed his escorts into the awaiting darkness.


	17. Three Rogues

**Cards Reshuffled 17 – Three Rogues**

_Lack of choice is something that might provoke very different reactions in people, depending on personality and circumstances. Apathy, acceptance, defiance, and many others. It is one of the things I hate the most, that sensation of being trapped, fenced in, with only one path in front of me, and that one likely to end in a bottomless chasm._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Yoshimo’s entire body tensed at the feeling of a long and silky-smooth nail gliding along his cheek and jaw, downwards towards his throat. Normally he would never stand for anybody taking such liberties, but this was different. This was…not a matter of choice. The bounty hunter was standing in the middle of a luxurious underground chamber, and he could almost sense the earth pressing in from all around. 

The room itself was…odd. Comfortable, yes. Even elegant. But still odd. It was more or less circular, and on the floor, there was an old and intricate mosaic, depicting some sort of large-scale and very bloody human sacrifice to some ancient god, likely as dead by now as his past victims. Bodhi liked it. She said it reminded her of how little people really changed over time, and how they all had the seed of death and darkness in their hearts. 

One separate part of the room held several large bookshelves, filled to overflowing with thick tomes, some newer, some so ancient that they crumbled if you touched them. Yoshimo had no idea what they might be about. It was difficult to imagine Bodhi ever reading, her being such a physical creature, not much given to intellectual pursuits, but he knew that she did. She had once told him that she did it for the purpose of gaining information, ‘unlike my dear brother. He always had his nose stuck in a book, even for pleasure.’ Yoshimo just barely managed to keep himself from shivering. He did not like to think about the brother. No, not at all. 

There was an armoire as well. It held silk and velvet gowns, mostly in dark colors, skimpy vests and revealing shirts, trousers that hugged the hips as tightly as a lover, and much more. Boshi enjoyed dressing up, in as provocative outfits as possible. Then she liked to parade herself before him, enjoying the physical reaction he could never suppress despite the growing revulsion he felt for the woman…no, the _creature_ he had once thought that he loved. _Fool. Such a fool I was. I lose face before her, every time, little by little until I will have no honor left at all. She knows it, and she loves it. She drinks my humiliation up like blood._

Finally, there was the one piece of furniture that really made the room look odd. The coffin stood on a low dais in the center of the room. It was a chill stone sarcophagus decorated with a relief of a bat; wings outspread above the image of a falling tree. The lid was so heavy that he couldn’t possibly have lifted it on his own, though of course Bodhi was able to shove it aside as if it were made of paper. Inside the coffin, there was a deep red satin pillow, thick and soft. He knew this very well. Once, Bodhi had dragged him into the coffin to…copulate. Not make love. What they did together could not be called that. Afterwards, she had held him down, pressing the pillow down over his face, pinning his arms and legs so he couldn’t move. 

_Do you feel it?_ She had whispered the words, her voice carrying the faint hint of laughter with it. _Do you feel it, my pet? Pain, fear, the urge to keep on breathing? Anger? Fury? Hate? Lust? Such strong, delicious emotions. You must tell me all about them later…if I let you live._

She had let him live. Sometimes he almost wished that she had not, but then he would always remember the other one. The…brother. And what he had done. _I have no choice left. I must do as they bid me, unless I wish to be destroyed, in more than body._

“So, my pet,” Bodhi said. She was sitting on top of her coffin, her legs crossed beneath her, and he was standing right before her, close enough to touch. Her dark eyes held a curious look, like a cruel child about to pull the wings off a fly to watch it twitch, and her red lips were pulled into a smile. Not a real smile though. The memory of a smile, an imitation made by somebody who had long since forgotten what real joy was. The fact that her teeth were entirely too white and sharp also served to make the smile very unnerving. “What news do you bring? And why are you no longer in that girl’s company? Do I need to remind you of what you were supposed to be doing?” 

“I remember,” Yoshimo said in a stiff voice. “There were…complications.” He told the truth, knowing that she would certainly be able to recognize a lie and that she would be swift to punish it. He did try to portray events in as favorable a light as possible though. 

When the bounty hunter had finished speaking, Bodhi was silent for a moment, watching him intently. “So that wingless elf outsmarted you, my pet?” she said. “Aw…you make me very disappointed.”

He waited silently, knowing that protests would do him no good at this point, indeed would only serve to amuse his tormentor. 

“You must be punished of course,” Bodhi went on. “But I will not damage you permanently. I still have a use for you.”

“I live to serve,” Yoshimo said, bowing. 

Bodhi giggled briefly. “Yes. Yes, you do, don’t you? As long as I want you to. Here’s what I want you to do. You will keep track of Zaerini, until given other orders. It may yet be possible for you to carry out your original mission somehow. But you will also keep a close eye on that elf, this…Aerie. She interests me.”

And I hope you two will tear each other apart, Yoshimo thought even as he nodded. 

“Come here, my pet,” Bodhi said, catching hold of the Kozakuran’s collar and irresistibly pulling him closer, towards her face. “You made a nasty mess of things, and you must pay for that. And then…you will serve me a snack. It is only fair that I have somebody to amuse me, seeing that my dear brother will soon reacquire a little pet of his own.” 

The loss of face hurt more than the loss of blood. 

-*- 

Imoen huddled on the cot in her cell, trying to think. It was a bit easier now that he wasn’t close by, but he was still around, somewhere in this place. She didn’t know where exactly, but sometimes she could almost sense him. Last night she had dreamed of him, and of his knives, and woken up screaming. _And alone. That’s even worse. It wouldn’t be so bad if at least one of my friends were here. Not that I really want them to be here of course, I wouldn’t want them to be trapped like I am, but I’d sure like to have some company. Especially at night. How long has it been since I slept without bad dreams? I can’t remember anymore._

The young thief gnawed on one already well-chewed fingernail, staring at the smooth stonewalls of her cell. At least the place was clean, and there weren’t any rats or anything, but it was so boring she just wanted to scream. _And they say this is a place to help insane people? How could anybody not go insane in this place?_

Spellhold. That was what it was called, this ‘asylum’ for those that the Cowled Wizards deemed ‘magically deviant’, those people who were somehow in the way. When they had teleported her to this horrible place she had tried to explain, that she hadn’t done anything wrong, that she wasn’t even really a wizard. None of the wizards had wanted to listen though, and all the while she pleaded he had been watching her with a small smirk on his face, the expression clearly visible despite his leather mask, as if he was very pleased with what was happening. She hadn’t seen him since, she was in the low security ward, and he was shut in one of the security cells. _But will they be able to keep him there? He’s very strong._

She still didn’t understand what exactly it was she had done either. The magic had simply been there, ready for her use. No spells studied, no scrolls read, no wand. Just magic, like her fear and anger had been transformed into pure energy. _What’s happening to me? I’m different somehow, I can feel it. But I’m still me. Aren’t I? I never had any choice about that magic thing, any more than about coming here. I don’t even know what happened. I wish Rini were here. She would help me figure it all out somehow. She’s so clever, and she knows a lot about this sort of thing._

She missed her best friend so much it hurt. Her other friends too of course, those who were still alive. _Don’t think about Khalid. Just don’t._ But she missed her almost-sister most of all. They had hardly ever been apart since they were very young, doing everything together, knowing each other inside and out. She knew that Zaerini would never abandon her if she could help it, any more than she would if their positions were reversed. _If I can’t get out of here on my own, Rini will find me and rescue me. I know she will. If…if she’s still alive. I don’t even know what happened to her after I was taken. No! She’s alive. I know it. I just know it. And she will get me out of here. I just have to keep sane until then. The warder said I might get to meet the other inmates soon. That could be nice. I wonder what Rini would say about that?_

_Meeting crazy people?_ Her best friend’s clear voice sounded very amused as she imagined it inside her head. _Nothing new about that, it seems we always do. Remember that fellow back in Baldur’s Gate who thought he was a paladin and tried to kill Eddie because he was ‘glowing red’? Or Bassilus and his undead family? Or that crazy gnome, whatever his name was, the one who kept pet basilisks? Not to mention the Aec’Le’Tec fanclub, or Tiax._

Imoen nodded to herself. _Yeah. I remember you used to call the Sword Coast ‘The Hatching Grounds of The Insane Wackos’._

_Exactly. And if they weren’t insane, they were plain annoying. No matter who the Cowlies have in there, they can’t be as irritating as Elminster. Or Drizzt._

_That’s true, I guess_ , Imoen thought. _Thanks, Rini. I know it isn’t really you, but me, but thanks all the same. It still helps. As soon as I can I’ll talk to the other folks in here. They might be really nice, you never know._

Lying down on her back, the pink-haired girl gave the door a dark glare. The wizards had let her keep her lock picks, but that didn’t help when the door was barred as well as locked. _I don’t think even Adahn could get past that. But on the other hand, I don’t think he would ever let himself get trapped like this._ Imoen sighed, smiling a little despite her plight as she closed her eyes and visualized the face of the other rogue. _Tall, dark and handsome. And mysterious. Yum._ True, she had got over the worst of her crush after she had learnt that there was some other woman he cared about. _But a little daydream never hurt anybody, and it’s not as if he’ll ever know._ She added body to the face, her smile widening. _Very nice. Shame he kept that picture I drew of him…but I guess Mr Psycho would have stolen it anyway. Well, at least I remember what it looked like. Hey, maybe I could ask for some paper and crayons, for therapy, and I could draw a new one! Or some clay and make it a sculpture._ She giggled; the walls of the cell almost forgotten. _Better not let him see it if I did though. He got pretty annoyed the last time. Anyway, what would he say if he were in this place?_

She imagined the smooth, somewhat sarcastic voice of the other rogue. _For one thing, I wouldn’t be there, not being a mage._

_Yeah, yeah, but what if you were?_

_Then I would probably advice you to watch, listen and learn. All prisons have some kind of weakness, though it may take time to find it. Talk to the other prisoners; learn what you can of your captors. Anything might help. I’ll talk to you later. And one more thing._

_Yes?_

_Don’t even think about taking up sculpture._

Imoen surprised herself by actually laughing out loud, feeling better than she had in quite some time. _I can do this. I’ll beat Mr Psycho, I’ll get out of here, I’ll find the others somehow and everything will be all right. I know it will._

-*- 

“How about it?” Dekaras pleasantly inquired of the man in front of him. “Is your memory improving yet?” 

“Ah…yes,” the man said. “I…I think so.” He was the innkeeper of a rather small inn situated south of Baldur’s Gate, but north of Beregost. It was a little off the main road, which was why most travelers would prefer the Friendly Arm Inn, but that also meant it was a good spot for somebody who was trying to remain unobserved. There were two other things to recommended it as well. It was situated a comfortable distance away from Baldur’s Gate, a day’s march for somebody not that fond of traveling on foot. _Like Edwin._ And then there was that other detail that he happened to know about and knew that the wizard did as well. _By this time, he ought to be homesick. He would not be able to resist the temptation._

“Well?” the assassin asked. “I’ve heard a great deal about your cook, the one who is said to know about Eastern cuisine. It just so happens that I have this sudden craving for Thayvian spices, but I’d really prefer to know that it will be worth my while.”

“My dear sir, I assure you that it will!” The innkeeper was a rotund man, red-faced and freckled. A few tufts of still red hair stuck up around his ears like seaweed clinging to a rock. “Why, we even had a genuine Red Wizard stop by here a couple of months back! Very pleased he was, especially with the meat course, and he tipped well too.”

“Indeed,” Dekaras said, smiling faintly. For some reason this seemed to make the innkeeper extremely nervous. The man must be stressed out. “You know, I’m actually an Easterner myself. I should very much like to meet this wizard, chat about home, that sort of thing. You don’t by any chance happen to recall what he looked like, do you?”

“Well…he kept his hood up most of the time. I…I couldn’t s-say much, except that he was fairly young.” 

“Hm,” the assassin said, frowning. “A shame. But surely there is something you remember? Perhaps I could help you?” He felt a little irritated, and his mood wasn’t improved by the fact that the innkeeper paled visibly as he met his eyes. _What in the world is wrong with him? He is practically trembling._

“Aaahhh! I…I remember his name now!”

“Yes?” 

“It was ‘Alexander Antravian’. I remember, because at first he hesitated when I asked him for his name, and then he looked very embarrassed.” 

_As well he should_ , Dekaras thought. _Using his own middle name and his mother’s birth name for an alias is not exactly what I would call a cunning alias. The bard would not have recognized it, but I certainly would. Really, he ought to know better, but I suppose he was in a hurry to think of something. Or maybe…maybe part of him wants me to find him. At least this fits with Ravenscar’s information. Beregost will be my next stop, for certain, and surely somebody there will have spotted Edwin._ “Thank you,” he said. “And now, I would like to try these culinary delights out for myself.” 

“You…you aren’t going to…”

“I’m going to have dinner, unless you have a problem with that. And then I’ll be on my way.” After the still nervous innkeeper had shown him to a seat and taken his order, Dekaras leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together as he thought about what he had learnt. Clearly, he was still on the right trail. _I will find you yet, boy. Trust me on that._ Edwin might have lied to him and deceived him, and the thought of that still hurt a great deal, but he could not allow that to interfere with what he needed to do. _I will learn his reasons for what he did, and I will see to it that he’s safe, no matter what. Then…if he really wants me out of his life, I suppose I’ll have to comply._

The very thought of that was enough to once again bring back the blackness, the sensation of icy needles pricking his heart. But he could not afford to give in to the doubt and the self-loathing once again. Not if he wanted to find Edwin before it was too late. _Time enough for that later, if it comes to that. Have to focus on the mission at hand, not on emotions, that won’t help at all. The way I might feel is secondary if that. All that matters is finding him and making sure that he is well. And I will, no matter how many corpses I have to leave behind to do so. There is no other possible choice._


	18. Ego Parade

**Cards Reshuffled 18 – Ego Parade**

_People aren’t always that different from other animals. Just take a look at two young males, furiously head butting and trying to be impressive for the benefit of the female they both desire. Pity I was too preoccupied to figure out what was going on at once. That could have saved us a lot of aggravation._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Whoa!” Jan said, sitting up on the floor and blinking. “That was a close one, I could actually see the Great Turnip in the sky there for a while.”

“Not surprisingly,” Jaheira said, wearily rubbing her temples. “You almost died. Both Anomen and I had to exert ourselves in order to pull you back.”

Jan’s eyes went very wide. “Really? That’s very nice of you!” He grinned. “I’ll be sure to repay you, by crafting you both an extra special Jansen story, how’s that?”

“No!” Anomen exclaimed, jerking back. “No…that….that won’t be necessary.” 

Jaheira was also energetically shaking her head. “Absolutely not. It…it is quite all right. No debt remaining, complete balance…” 

“But Jaheira!” Jan said, getting to his feet. “I want to, and I just know you’ll love it. Say, maybe I could make it a romantic story, featuring the two of you…”

The druid gave him a dark look and fingered her quarterstaff as if she was having serious problems controlling her temper. “My husband is dead, murdered and mutilated. I am not in the mood for romance.” 

“And I,” Anomen said, “am not interested.” He suddenly went very pink in the cheeks and gave Jaheira a nervous look. “No offense meant to you, lady Jaheira, you are of course a charming woman, it is merely that I…”

Jaheira raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“That…that I would rather…” Anomen’s eyes darted nervously about the room, landing on Zaerini. Then they moved on to the wizard standing right next to her and a scowl to rival Jaheira’s spread across his face. “What is _he_ doing here?” he suspiciously asked the bard. “My lady, do you truly think it wise to make that villain privy to our discussions?” 

Edwin shot him a look of pure venom and sneered contemptuously. “There is no need for that, you metal-plated monkey. After all, there already is a privy present. Do a careful search and you should be able to find it; the stinking hole is located in the middle of that weedy and ridiculous little thing you probably call a ‘beard’. (Whereas mine of course is elegant, immaculately groomed and infinitely stylish.)”

By now Anomen was red rather than pink, and he was actually grinding his teeth. “I’ll have you know that this is a perfect beard according to the Rules and Regulations of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart, foul wizard! It follows the guidelines exactly, down to the smallest hair, while you probably make yours grow through some blasphemous rite of deepest darkness!”

“Not necessary, it comes with having the perfect male body, something you would know nothing about. I suggest you try to stop dragging your knuckles along the ground before you attempt joining the rest of humanity. And you probably have to _pray_ your feeble little tuft of hair into existence!” 

Zaerini had been listening to this exchange, her mouth hanging open just a little bit at the sudden display of strutting egos. Now she loudly cleared her throat, making both combatants pause and regard her expectantly. “That’s enough for now, boys,” she said. “You both have cute beards, but right now we really don’t have the time to compare them hair by hair.” _Sheeesh…_ she thought. _Beard envy. Who’d have thought it?_

For some reason this declaration of beard neutrality didn’t seem to make either the cleric or the wizard very happy. They kept glaring murderously at each other, but at least they had stopped trading insults. _Good thing too. Next, they’d probably start comparing chest hair or something._

_I have my own ideas about what they’ll start comparing next_ , Softpaws said, sounding as if she was snickering. The mental image she sent her mistress was very vivid, and Rini felt sudden heat rising in her cheeks. _You’re just making that up. You haven’t seen either of them like that._

_If that’s what you like to think, kitten._

“Ah…anyway…” the bard said, faltering a little. “We all need to clear a few things up I think, but this is hardly the place. Edwin, how about your room? You could set up wards of silence, couldn’t you?”

The wizard nodded. “Of course,” he said. “It will be but a moment’s work for a wizard of my great magnitude. Come, follow me. The rest of you monkeys, try not to get your paws into any of my experiments.” He headed up the stairs, not turning to see if anybody followed. 

“Monkeys…” Anomen muttered. “I’ll show him monkeys…that conniving wretch! No doubt he is planning to betray us all, but I will channel the power of the Order and strike in their name…” 

Rini shook her head. _Well. They certainly seem to have taken an intense disliking to each other. Hopefully they’ll get over it._

Once arrangements had been made to ensure privacy against eavesdroppers, Zaerini turned to Edwin. “All right,” she said. “What happened down there? Why did Aerie try to kill you? How do you even know her?” _Please don’t let her be an old girlfriend of his…_

“I could ask you the same,” the wizard said. “I never would have expected you to be traveling with a torture-adoring priestess of Loviatar, a vicious little harpy who would like nothing better than to flay my perfect skin off my body, inch by slow inch. (Except perhaps doing it to…no. Don’t think about that.)” 

The reactions of the party to this revelation were diverse, to say the least. 

“Loviatar?” Jaheira exclaimed. “Is that so? But she was so…so feeble and helpless and…” Comprehension slowly dawned in her eyes. “I see,” she said, her voice frosty. “She played us all for fools, did she not? If I ever encounter her again, I do believe I will want to have words with her about that.” 

“Impossible!” Minsc shouted. “Poor Aerie is a good person, she always said so herself! And good people don’t tell wicked lies, so it has to be true! And people who tell lies about good people are wicked and evil and should get themselves ready for some serious butt-kicking!” The giant ranger was in the process of reaching for his sword, when Boo scuttled up to his ear, squeaking furiously. Minsc paused, looking hesitant. “What…are you sure, Boo? Did you really feel that Aerie was an evil, hamster-killing and black-hearted witch, not at all a good one? But you were afraid to tell me because you thought I might get angry with you?” Big tears rose in Minsc’s eyes and then trickled down his cheeks as he lifted the tiny hamster in one enormous hand, gently petting him. “Oh Boo! You know you can tell me anything, I would never get angry with you!”

“Say, that’s a very neat hamster,” Jan said in a thoughtful voice, eyeing Boo. “Aerie was probably out to steal him to aid in her evil plans. Here Minscey, you’d better let me keep him safe for you!”

“Absolutely not. Boo is safe with me, and we will not be parted. Especially right now, he says that he is very upset.” 

“Distasteful emotional outbursts,” Anomen said and gave Minsc an annoyed look. At the same time Edwin spoke, stating that insane and hamster-obsessed rangers were not something he couldn’t live without, and couldn’t they feed that furball to the cat? This made Softpaws give him a look of total adoration and wrap herself around his legs, and made Minsc state that anybody who tried to harm Boo would soon be trying to get used to having their head hammered into their stomach. Meanwhile, Anomen and Edwin both looked utterly disgusted about having agreed on something. 

“Can we please get back on track here?” Rini pleaded, wearily dragging her hand through her red hair. _Aerie as a torturing priestess of Loviatar, lying to and manipulating us all? At a first glance it sounds utterly insane…but the more I think about it, the more it all makes sense. I always thought there was something about her that didn’t quite fit, though I couldn’t say what._ “So, Eddie, I believe you of course, but how do you know her? Is she from Thay? And what do you suppose she was up to?”

The wizard paused before answering, his dark eyes concerned. “I do not know where she is originally from,” he said, “but I do not think she is from Thay. It was many years ago that I met her, I was a mere child then, but I will never forget it.” When next he spoke, he did it slowly, carefully picking his words. “She was playing a part,” he said, “as I’m sure she was doing to make you trust her. At that time, she called herself ‘Ciri’ for ‘Cirindaeriella’ which may or may not be her true name, but I don’t doubt that she got ‘Aerie’ the same way. She is exceptionally good at manipulating people, and she enjoys nothing more than causing suffering. At the time, she was involved in a murder, she had killed one of my mother’s friends.” He fidgeted a little with the sleeve of his robe. “In the investigation that followed, she was revealed for what she really was, and nearly killed. Unfortunately, she got away. I do not doubt that she would love to slowly kill me for my part in her downfall, as well as my…family. Perhaps she somehow thought she could get to me through you. Or she may have had other reasons. Whatever her plans, you may be sure that they will be highly unpleasant.” 

The half-elf thought about this, shivering a little. “Yeah…I can guess. Loviatar worshippers love torture. Just like…just like him. Irenicus.” She hugged herself briefly, trying not to let the memories overwhelm her. Through the cloth of her borrowed shirt she could feel one of the scars that still remained on her body. 

“Fear not, my lady,” Anomen said. He had somehow managed to cross the floor without her noticing, and now he was hovering by her side. “I solemnly swear to you, in the name of all that’s good and holy, that I will let no harm come to you, no evil fiend molest you!” He eagerly grasped her hand and pressed it to his lips. It felt rather nice actually, but she was too surprised to do more than stare at him. 

“Then I suggest you keep away from her,” Edwin snarled. The wizard had virtually glued himself to her other side, and now he was glaring daggers at Anomen. “I’m sure your disgusting slobber carries all sorts of horrible diseases you got off your little paladin friends, or possibly their horses. (How dare he touch her as if he had a right to do so? If he does it again I’ll start out by charbroiling his codpiece and its meager contents, and then I’ll get really creative!)” 

“I suggest _you_ keep your distance from the lady,” Anomen growled in return. By now he and Edwin were practically oblivious of everything around them, staring angrily into each other’s faces from a few inches distance. “She does not need to be subjected to any of your dark arts, or your corruptive influence. What she does need is a champion bold and true.” 

“And that would be you? The man with the accent that makes you sound as if you’re wearing an armor three sizes too small in the trousers?”

“At least my accent is romantic and confidence-inspiring, rather than sinister and oily!” 

“Oily, is it? I’ll show you oily. (One Grease right on top of him, and then a Fireball…)” 

“Try it, villain, and I shall smite you!” 

“STOP IT!” Zaerini screamed at the top of her voice, making both the combatants shut up and put their hands over their ears, their faces pained. “That’s better,” the half-elf said, putting her hands on her hips. “No more of this nonsense!” She gave both the combatants a disapproving look. “I won’t have you killing each other while you’re both traveling with me, and if everything goes as I hope, you soon will be.” She ignored the look of utter horror on Anomen’s face. “Eddie, I’m not really working for Mae’Var. Renal Bloodscalp wants me to expose him as a traitor, I’m just here looking for evidence. It’s up to you of course, but…wouldn’t you rather join me than him?”

Both Edwin and Anomen inhaled sharply at exactly the same time. 

“But my lady!” Anomen said. 

“Of course,” Edwin said at the same time. “I had suspected as much. In fact…I will be able to help you. I know where Mae’Var keeps his important documents, and as his trusted right hand I also happen to have a key to his safe. But remember – if I do this for you, then Mae’Var must die, or I will be at great risk.”

Rini gave him a bright smile, something that caused the wizard to swallow heavily and look as if he was feeling very hot. “That won’t be a problem. I wouldn’t want to risk your life, you know. Never that. I’m just…very happy to have you with us.” 

“As it should be,” Edwin said. “After all, I’m the Greatest Wizard in the world, a witty, charming and intellectually bedazzling conversationalist, a great cook and excellent at…er…” His voice trailed off as he kept staring into her eyes. 

_And with a very cute ego_ Rini thought, feeling warm feelings of happiness spread through her entire body. 

-*-

Jaheira was concerned. This was not an unusual occurrence; sometimes she felt that it was her natural state of being. Or at least that it had become so, after she had found herself the protector of Zaerini and Imoen. Her – and Khalid of course. _Those girls…trying to keep them safe would tax the patience of anybody. Khalid was always able to smile about it though. When they had managed to drive me up the wall, he would make a joke so I could not help but laugh, and then things did not feel so bad. I wonder if I will ever be able to laugh again? Khalid, I miss you so much. With every beat of my heart, with every breath I take, I am missing you. Part of me died along with you._

Warrior. Druid. Harper. Those parts still remained. But no longer a wife. Jaheira shook her head angrily, feeling her golden-brown hair whip about her face. _No! I am still the wife of Khalid, and I always will be, whatever happens. In my heart, I still am. And I can still be of use to the girls, I know I can. I will be strong for their sake, and for my husband. And I will take my vengeance_. 

Vengeance. The word was a sweet one. She visualized herself summoning a vast mass of strangling vines to rip the concealing mask off the one who had murdered her love, the one who had stolen the light from her world. Vines rending his body slowly to pieces, choking the life out of him. It felt good. _But not good enough. I would kill him with my own bare hands, if possible. Or with my teeth._ She knew how to shapechange, a power that had served her well enough in the past. As a beast, she could get what she craved. _To feel his flesh tear between my teeth, to taste his blood running down my throat…yes. That is what I desire, and I will have it if I can. But the children must come first._

Imoen worried her the most at the moment of course. Jaheira had visited Amn and Athkatla before, she knew of the power the Cowled Wizards held, and how dangerous it was to challenge them. Yet it must be done. As far as she knew, nobody who had been taken by the wizards had ever returned, and nobody knew where their prisoners were kept. She could not even be certain that the child was still alive. _But I have to hope. Have to try. I was forced to…to leave Khalid down there. I will not leave Imoen. I just hope she has the sense not to provoke her captors. She is a kind girl, but she takes after Zaerini in that regard._

Zaerini. Now there was another problem. The bard had seemed to bounce back well and good after her almost-breakdown after they had escaped the dank underworld nightmare of Irenicus’ dungeon. _A little too well perhaps. She still does not recall even half of what that monster did to her. And when she starts to remember I fear for her sanity._ Jaheira had seen some of the scars that still remained on the other half-elf’s body, but she was convinced that the scars in her soul ran far deeper. Yet another reason to kill Irenicus, slowly and painfully. _He will pay for hurting the children in that way._ Sometimes Zaerini seemed entirely her old self, but Jaheira feared for the younger woman all the same, knowing that there had to be darkness lurking beneath the energetic surface. _And that wizard certainly will not make things any better._

Jaheira tapped her foot irritably as she gave Edwin a look out of the corner of her eye. The adventurers were standing inside a luxurious bedroom dominated by an enormous bed that looked like you might drown in it and which was decorated with hideous golden grapes. The second most remarkable piece of furniture in the room was a large Iron Maiden standing in one corner. Presumably it had been placed there so that Mae’Var could supply himself with a bit of instant torture if he ever woke up in the middle of the night. Jaheira had heard of writers keeping pen and paper on their nightstand for similar purposes. Mae’Var’s nightstand held a pair of thumbscrews. Along one wall there was an iron safe, which Edwin was currently unlocking, looking very pleased with himself. 

_Perhaps he can help us, but I would rather we were rid of him. He is nothing but trouble, and will cause nothing but pain._

Zaerini might have chosen to disregard it for now, but Jaheira remembered how devastated the bard had been after Edwin left. At first, she had searched frenetically for him, hardly sleeping, hardly eating, almost running herself into the ground. Then, when she had been forced to realize that she wouldn’t find him, she had fallen into an apathetic state, not speaking at all. _I was certain she would die from a broken heart. And I am not about to forgive him for that. Most importantly I will never allow him to do the same again. I will kill him before I let him hurt her like that again._

The druid noticed that Anomen, too, didn’t seem all that happy about the addition of the Red Wizard to their group. _The natural suspicion against a member of an evil organization – or something else?_ It hadn’t escaped her that the young cleric seemed to be paying a great deal of attention to Zaerini, even if the bard appeared to be oblivious of it so far. _He may be less of a danger to her than Edwin is, but I am not sure he is suitable all the same. A Helmite and a would-be knight both, and he is so very rigid and unforgiving. No, I am sure she can do better._

“Aha!” Edwin said, proudly displaying a thick bundle of papers. “Here we are. The masterful espionage skills of Edwin Odesseiron triumph once again, as my cunning reaches new heights. (If this doesn’t impress her, I don’t know what will.)”

“Using a key to open a door?” Jan said, smirking a little. “Very impressive I’m sure, Oh Great Red One. You must teach me how to do that sometime, it sounds a fascinating skill.” 

“I meant the finding of the proper documents, you annoying little monkey,” Edwin said in a haughty voice. Then he handed Zaerini the paper. “I believe these are what you were looking for,” he said. “These documents are proof that Mae’Var has conspired with the Night Masks guild to have Renal Bloodscalp assassinated. Now all you need to do is show them to Renal, and then the matter will be well in hand. (I wish I could have things well in hand as well. Particularly her enchanting little…)” 

“Thanks, Eddie!” Zaerini said, winking at the wizard in a way that caused him to cough violently. “Are you sure you haven’t got a burglar or two in the family? You sure seem to be enjoying yourself, and you seem very knowledgeable about the inner workings of a Thieves Guild.”

“Ah…no,” Edwin said, looking a little flustered. “Only wizards, as far as I know. I…have picked up the odd bit of information here and there though.” 

“So it seems. Well, let’s go see Renal then. I’m sure he’ll be very interested to learn this.” 

As it turned out, Renal Bloodscalp was pleased indeed. When the adventurers returned to him, he was reclining on a sort of couch, idly stroking the white cat Mr Fluffy who was sitting on his stomach, looking rather bored. “Ah, Zaerini!” Bloodscalp said, sounding pleased. “I was just counting some loot from a delightful outing we had not long ago and I thought of you. Mask help me if I didn't smile just a little! You won't make that smile disappear, will you? You've brought news, perhaps? You've brought some evidence of Mae'Var's foulness? And presumably you also have some reason for bringing his pet wizard into this place?”

“Have a care how you speak of me, thief,” Edwin said in a haughty voice. “Edwin Odesseiron is no man’s pet. I go where I please, with whom I please, and if your limited mind has problems understanding that, there is a Fireball with your name on it, waiting to teach you differently.” 

“Not now, Edwin!” Zaerini hissed, grasping the wizard tightly by the arm. “Please excuse him,” she told Bloodscalp with a winning smile. “It’s been a long day. Anyway, we do have the proof you require. It seems Mae’Var has been making overtures to the Night Knives.” With that, she handed the thief the documents, which he read through quickly, his expression never changing. 

For a few moments the only sound in the room was Mr Fluffy’s contented purring. Then Renal Bloodscalp suddenly smiled. “Yes,” he said. “This is more than enough to condemn Mae’Var completely. Well done.” He paused, rubbing his cat behind one furry white ear. “Only one part of our deal remains, and then you will have your reward.”

“And that is?” Zaerini warily asked. 

“Why, to eliminate Mae’Var of course! I would like you to do it as soon as possible.” He smiled again, the smile of a hungry shark. “Believe me, you have my full authority in this matter.” 

_More assassination_ , Jaheira thought, not feeling pleased at all. _We walk down dark roads these days, and not ones of my choosing. But I cannot…must not interfere at this point. There are killers hiding in the shadows all around us, and if Bloodscalp should give the word, we will stand no chance._

Zaerini shrugged, and when next she spoke, she was mimicking Bloodscalp’s lazy, drawling tones. “I can’t say I liked Mae’Var all that much,” she said. “Torture isn’t really a practice I approve of. Quite the opposite, actually. And once Mae’Var discovers those documents are missing he will know to suspect Edwin, and pose a very real threat, so that’s another good reason. So yes, Mae’Var will die.” There was a sudden flash of fire in her golden eyes. “And afterwards, I will expect you to be grateful. Very grateful.” 

“Of course,” Renal Bloodscalp impassively said. “Afterwards.” 

Out in the street again, Zaerini turned to her companions. “I don’t think we should go see Mae’Var at once,” she said. “Much as I hate to lose the element of surprise, it’s been a long day, and we’re all tired. We need rest. I suggest we go back to the Copper Coronet for the night, and then come back here tomorrow.” 

There were no protests. Jaheira suddenly noticed that she was tired and judging by the pale and drawn faces around her, she wasn’t the only one. _It has been a long day. All that business with Mae’Var, and breaking into the temple of Talos, and then Rayic Gethras…and Aerie. I still cannot believe that she managed to fool us all like that._ The druid felt a brief surge of anger as she thought of the Avariel. _I do not know what game she was playing, but I will not allow her to harm us further. She will pay dearly for her deceit._

A thought occurred to her then, one that brought a brief smile to her face. _Of course! The Harpers! It has been long since I was here, but I am certain they still have agents within the city. If they do, I should seek them out as soon as possible. They will likely know if the Loviatar priesthood is involved in some particular scheme here, or if this was just some random mischief. Perhaps they will know something about the other happenings in the city as well, like this ‘guild war’ we have been hearing so much about. Perhaps they might even know of Irenicus. I cannot believe I did not think of it before, but I suppose the recent ordeals must have clouded my mind. I should start with finding Belgrade, as soon as I have the time._

The druid smiled fondly as she thought of her Harper friend. Belgrade had been little more than an eager boy when last she had seen him, but now he would be…what? In his forties, perhaps? Humans aged so swiftly. _Those were happy days. Dangerous and fraught with peril, but happy. It will be good to see Belgrade again, too long have my duties kept me from doing so. I wonder if he is less awkward than I remember him?_

“Lady Jaheira?” Jaheira blinked as she was torn from her reverie and looked into Anomen’s anxious face. _Another boy, one who fancies himself a hero, no less._

“Yes?” she asked. 

“I was wondering…” The squire was speaking in a low voice, and he looked behind him, to where Zaerini was walking, chatting quietly with Edwin. Something the wizard said made the redhead laugh a little, though she then proceeded to punch him lightly in the arm. “I was wondering,” Anomen said, “what you know of this…this wizard. Surely, he cannot be trusted? And how well does the Lady Zaerini know him?”

“We have traveled with him before,” Jaheira cautiously said. “At one time I thought he could be trusted. Now, I do not know. He disappeared for no apparent reason.” She paused before continuing, not sure how much it would be prudent to say. _Angry as I am with Edwin, I have no wish to become Anomen’s romantic agent either. Let them settle that on their own._ “As for Zaerini, I suggest you talk to her yourself, if you wish to know more about what she thinks.” 

Anomen nodded. “I shall do so,” he said. “It was discourteous of me to pry, and I apologize.” He bit his lip briefly. “I am merely worried for her, that is all.” Then his voice took on a more eager note. “Yes, I shall speak with her. I had intended to do so anyway, it is prudent to get to know your companions better, and I wished to tell her of some of my past campaigns with the Order.” The blushed a little. “To ensure her of my skill in battle, you see.” 

“I see,” Jaheira said in a neutral voice. _So very young. Let us hope there will be no broken hearts._

“Yes, I believe she will be most interested, and…” Anomen suddenly broke off. “What was that?”

Jaheira paused to listen. Now she could hear it too, a sound like hissing laughter, in the deep shadows of an intersecting alley. And there were eyes, deep red eyes glowing in the darkness. She felt a deep chill in the air, and a sudden smell, a damp and old smell as from an opened tomb. Then, before she could ready her weapon, the thing in the shadows was gone, as if it had never been there. She shivered as cold tendrils of drifting mist glided past her, and tried to listen for further sounds, but there were none. “I do not know,” she said. “But I do not like it.” I do not like it at all.


	19. A Dream Of Home

**Cards Reshuffled 19 – A Dream Of Home**

_Even dead, my sire was ever resourceful. Dreams, hopes, the thoughts unacknowledged by the conscious mind, those are the kind of things that make you vulnerable. And that is where he would strike, always seeking out what weakness he could find. Had I been forced to deal with those dreams alone, I doubt I could have retained my sanity at all._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Zaerini blinked. Where was she? She was outside, yet she could not remember how she had got here. There was grass beneath her feet, gray and dusty, looking as ancient as the dust of a mummy. Without looking, she somehow knew that there would be no ants in this grass, no mice or moles. Dead, completely dead it was. The air was still and musty, with no trace of wind, neither hot nor cold. _Where is the light coming from?_ There was no sun in the sky, no moon and no stars. Just inky blackness. It might as well have been a solid lid over the world. 

_That can’t be real_ , the half-elf thought. _This has to be a…_

“A dream.” 

Rini startled at the familiar voice, then turned around. “Immy…” she whispered, feeling tears rising in her eyes. “Immy, I’m so sorry. I’m coming for you, I promise, just as soon as I can! I didn’t mean to leave you! I didn’t!” 

Imoen didn’t seem to acknowledge her friend’s words, maybe she didn’t even hear them. Her pink hair was covered with the same gray dust that was on the ground, and her blue eyes were distant and sad, all the sparkle and mischief in them faded away. “A dream of many things,” she said in a soft, almost inaudible voice. “Of friends, and family. These things always mean something.” She paused, frowning a little. “Don’t they?” 

“Of course they do! Immy, you mean everything to me, you know that! You’re my best friend!” 

Once again Imoen didn’t seem to hear. She sighed a little, then walked away. Zaerini followed, not knowing what else to do. This might only be a dream, but she knew better by now than to dismiss her dreams out of hand. Besides, she wanted her friend, even if only as a dream image. Now they were suddenly standing in an open courtyard, tall gray stone walls rearing up around them. And there was the Keep itself, with its tall towers and the tiny windows above. Rini shivered. _Candlekeep._

Her old home, the place where she had grown up, where she and Imoen had played through many an endless childhood day. It looked just as it remembered it, she could even spot her old window. Yet something was different, frighteningly so. The walls were slowly crumbling, the windows gaping emptily like blinded eyes. The very ground was missing here and there, and far below she could spot more black sky, except now she could see stars, distant and cold. _The ground…oh gods, the ground is full of stars! And Candlekeep…what happened here? It’s like…like an empty chrysalis, when the butterfly has left it behind._

Imoen was watching the keep quizzically. “Do you remember these doors?” she asked. “I remember... I think...”

“Of course you do! This is home, remember? Or it was.” 

Imoen nodded. “Yes, this was home for so long, but it is too late to go back.” She sighed again. “They wouldn't have you now. They wouldn't have me. Had no use...”

“No! Immy, that’s not true, and you know it! We’re not useless, neither of us.” _Are we? If I wasn’t useless, shouldn’t I have been able to save her?_

Imoen suddenly took her friend’s hand, and Rini almost shied back. The other girl’s fingers were so very cold, like those of a dead thing. “Someone else does,” Imoen said in an odd little sing-song voice. “He wants something. I... I don't know why. Those in the cowls don't even know. Why don't I know?”

_Irenicus. He wants something of us, I know that much. When he would…do things to me…he talked sometimes. I remember that, but I can’t remember what he said. Why can’t I remember? It’s important, I know it is! I have to remember!_

Imoen was walking away now, heading across the courtyard. Her steps were very light; she hardly seemed to touch the ground. Now she was approaching an odd cluster of statues, that Zaerini certainly couldn’t remember from before. There were three of them, standing together, and Imoen sat down at their stone feet, watching them curiously. As the bard got closer she could recognize them, and she had to swallow hard to force down the sudden lump in her throat. _Gorion._

One of the statues resembled her foster father in every detail. There was the kind face, lined but still strong, the eyes wise and loving. The short beard, gray as far back as she could remember, and the mage robes of the same color. He was leaning on his staff, watching her lovingly, or at least so it seemed. Of course, he was nothing but at statue, but it was so lifelike she could almost believe it was really him. He looked exactly the same as on the day she had last seen him, the day he died, sacrificing himself to save her life by meeting the attack of her half-brother Sarevok. _Gorion, I miss you so much. I need you, now more than ever, and I wish you were here._

Blinking the tears away she took a closer look at the second statue, and yet another familiar face. This was Khalid, her dear friend Khalid. The half-elven warrior’s slightly befuddled but friendly and open face was instantly recognizable. He seemed to be smiling nervously at her. _Oh Khalid. You also died because of me, didn’t you? Whatever he…Irenicus…wants, it had nothing to do with you._

Now she turned to look at the third statue, which almost seemed to be crouching a little behind the other two. _Adahn? It is, isn’t it?_ It certainly looked like the mysterious rogue, though the face was partially obscured by a deep hood. But what she could see of it seemed familiar enough, as did the body stance, wary and tense, like a coiled spring. She got the unnerving feeling that the statue was watching her, and there was a tiny smirk on the face that reinforced that impression. Somehow it seemed even more alive than the other two statues. _He certainly seems to show up everywhere, doesn’t he? Funny…Gorion was my father first, and then Khalid took over at least part of that role. So logically, I suppose Adahn is going to adopt me, to fit the theme._ She almost laughed. _When I see him again, maybe I should ask him to put me on his lap and tell me a story. I’d love to see the look on his face. Unless…the other two are dead. Suppose he is too? No. I know he isn’t; I did that Reading. I know I haven’t seen the last of him._

Imoen had been studying the three statues silently for a while, but now she spoke again, sounding regretful. “Do you remember Gorion? Or the others? I think I do. They were... no... wait...” She reached up to touch Gorion’s hand. “They were the guidance, and there was much more to learn, but it is too late now. They are so far away...” The pink-haired girl reached out again, and this time her icy fingers gently touched her friend’s cheek. Her eyes were dark and weary, and her voice even sadder than before. “You are far away... Too far away to help... Why? Memories should stay... but he digs deeper... pushes everything aside...” She looked at the statues again, and her face turned blank. “I don't remember any of you.”

As Imoen spoke the last words, the three statues slowly dissolved into mist, which drifted away like transparent snakes slithering along the dead ground. The young rogue looked regretfully after them, and then moved off again, stopping when she reached a dark corner of the courtyard. Rini recognized this place, it was the sparring grounds where Jondalar would practice daily with the recruits. The person who was standing there right now most certainly wasn’t a green recruit though. It was Sarevok. 

Well, it was a statue of Sarevok, at least. Zaerini apprehensively approached it, half thinking that it would come to life at any moment and try to kill her. He was as tall as she remembered him, a giant of a man, and the hideously ugly spiky armor he was wearing only emphasized his strong and muscular form. It wasn’t that which interested her the most though. Carefully she stepped even closer, and she looked into her brother’s face, able to do so for the first time without fear of dying. Sarevok’s face was partially obscured by his helmet, but she could see at least part of it. The statue didn’t have his fiercely glowing golden eyes of course, burning with a wild hunger that had always threatened to consume the world. And yet, it managed to capture at least a little of that immense pride, the grandiosity, the wildness of the spirit. It was a good-looking face too; she couldn’t help but notice. _Sarevok. I wonder where you are now, brother? I wish…that things could have ended differently for you._

Imoen hugged herself as if she were feeling cold, not looking at the statue. “Do you remember Sarevok?” she asked. “Or any other? I... I don't know...” She paused for a moment, thinking. “They sought your death, and mine. They seemed so important at the time, but I... I don't remember them at all. Something else is...”

“Immy?” The half-elf hesitantly put her arm about her friend’s shoulder. “Immy, you don’t have to do this.”

Imoen shook her head, pink locks bouncing. When next she spoke, it was in a mere whisper. “Something else is more dangerous... Closer... I can feel it...” She gave her friend an imploring look. “Do you remember me? I... I can almost see... I want to, but I... too late. You will come too late...”

“NO! Immy, I promise I’ll find you; I’ll find you in time!” Imoen’s eyes closed, and she slumped in her friend’s arms, unconscious. _This is a dream_ , Rini told herself. _Only a dream._ It didn’t help. She was still scared, still angry and helpless to do anything about it. Carefully she lowered Imoen down onto the ground. Something stirred at the corner of her eye and she turned her head to see Softpaws sitting on the ground, green eyes steady and calm. 

_Careful, kitten_ , the cat warned. _He comes._

_What? Who…_

And then there was a shimmering in the air, a rippling magical portal, and Irenicus was standing before her. _No. No, no, no, no, NO!_

She should do something, she had to do something, but she was frozen, immobile, and couldn’t even budge an inch. All she could do was stare wildly at her tormentor. The mage looked exactly as she remembered him. There was the unusually muscular body, uncommon in a wizard, and he was wearing that odd combination of leather straps and golden buckles that would have looked hilarious on anybody else but somehow managed to look threatening on him. And there was the mask across his face, the perfect mask of a young and beautiful face, perfectly proportioned, but cold and sneering. And the eyes. The terrible eyes that were the worst thing about him. Blue, a deep and beautiful blue, and cold, colder than ice. They were staring contemptuously at her, chilling her heart, making her feel small and helpless, a mouse frozen in front of a snake. Then they turned to Imoen. 

“She resists,” Irenicus said, his cultured voice as dispassionate as ever. “She clings to her old life as though it actually matters. She will learn.”

Finally, the bard was able to find her voice, though it sounded distant and feeble in her own ears. “Don’t touch her! Leave her alone!” 

The mage simply looked at her, as if he were curious about her anger and fear, unable to entirely comprehend it. “I will do as I wish with her,” he said, sounding as if he was explaining something simple to an unintelligent child. “It is necessary for me to achieve what I seek. In this place it is simply happening earlier.” 

“What place? Where are we?” 

“It is a portrait of what has happened, and what may happen.” Irenicus sounded completely disinterested in this. “Do you cling to the past, or can you see through the pain?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

Now he was suddenly standing very close to her, and she couldn’t remember him approaching. He was simply there, cupping her chin and forcing her to look up directly into his face. The blue eyes looked back at her from behind the mask. Cold…so cold. His fingers were strong, like iron. They hurt. She felt as if she were about to fall into those blue eyes, to drown in icy water without end. “You feel the potential within, don't you? Will you cringe from what you know you want? What you can take as your own?” He sounded just a little bit impatient by now. “You know what you want. It is you, after all, which has brought us to the dream. Nothing is real. Yet.”

Magic leapt from his fingertips, striking Imoen who writhed on the ground, screaming. Rini tried to scream as well, but her tongue wouldn’t obey her. And now there was another voice, a terribly familiar one, deep and malicious. 

THAT IS RIGHT, MY DAUGHTER. THE POTENTIAL IS STILL WITHIN YOU, STILL WAITING TO BE USED. YOU CANNOT HIDE FROM IT; YOU CANNOT HIDE FROM ME. YOU WILL GROW IN STRENGTH AND SPIRIT, AND YOU WILL LEARN. 

Now she was able to scream at last, a wordless scream of terror and defiance, and as she heard her familiar hissing at the faceless presence that was pressing against her mind she woke up. As she woke, she was still screaming. 

Zaerini awoke screaming, the nightmare still clinging to her like sticky cobwebs. At first, she didn’t know where she was. Somebody was holding her tightly, and she fought to get away, trying to scratch out the eyes of her captor. Then she slowly became aware of the familiar voice speaking to her, repeating reassuring words over and over again. With a long shudder she finally relaxed into the arms of her friend. “Jaheira?” she asked. “I’m sorry…I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Nonsense, child,” the druid said in her normal brisk voice, soothingly rubbing her back. “I am perfectly well. And no wonder you are having bad dreams, after everything that has happened.”

“Yes…I suppose so.” Rini paused before she went on, trying to gather her thoughts. The small bedroom she shared with Jaheira was still dark, but through the window she could see the sky, and there was a faint light in the east. The sun would rise soon. “This was no ordinary nightmare,” she said, twisting her bedclothes between her fingers to keep herself occupied. “It was one of those dreams, the ones that come from my…sire.” 

“I see,” Jaheira said. “Do you wish to tell me about it? It might help.” 

“Yes. I think that would be a good idea.” She started speaking, at first slowly and hesitantly, but faster and faster as she progressed, eager to get it over with. “It was terrible!” she finished. “Immy was so…she wasn’t herself. Something really bad is going to happen to her, if it hasn’t already, and she said I would come too late to stop it. Jaheira, we won’t come too late, will we?”

Jaheira didn’t answer immediately, and when she did her voice was very serious. “Child, I cannot make such a promise,” she said.

“I know. I know that really, but what do you think?”

“I think that we are already doing everything we can to find Imoen as soon as possible. We can do no more, as much as we would like to. And if Imoen were here, she would certainly understand that.” 

Rini sighed. “I guess so. I just wish I could teleport right to where she is and take her away from there, right now. Jaheira, Irenicus was in my dream. He was doing something to her, something bad.”

“Child, it was a dream that was meant to frighten you. It may have shown you the past, the present, the future, or it may be a plain lie. I know it is difficult but try not to dwell on it too much. You should go to sleep again if you can.” 

The bard shook her head, red hair flying about her face. “I don’t think I can, not now. I’ll just go downstairs for a while, stretch my legs. Maybe get some breakfast in a little while.”

Jaheira looked very disapproving at this plan. “Downstairs? Alone? In the Copper Coronet? I think I had better come with you.” 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I can take care of myself. Anyway, I won’t be alone.” Zaerini picked her familiar up, displaying the black cat to the skeptical druid. “Softpaws will be going with me, won’t you Softy?” 

_Of course_ , the cat replied. _Provided there’s some breakfast in it for me as well._

Sometime later Rini was sitting at a table downstairs, meticulously studying the scratches in the tabletop. There was a plate in front of her with some surprisingly decent bread and cheese, and some cold meat. Most importantly, there was a large mug of hot tea. She cupped her fingers around it, enjoying the delicious warmth that spread through her. At this time of day, the Copper Coronet was unusually quiet. The drunks and the troublemakers had long since gone home, or lurched, staggered or been carried home in some cases. Those who couldn’t walk and had nobody to carry them had been forcibly ejected into the street, where they’d no doubt become easy pickings for thieves. Rini looked about the semi-dark common room, feeling rather relieved that Lethinan wasn’t present. There was something very unpleasant about the owner of the inn, something that made her skin crawl. Bernard the bartender seemed like a nice fellow however, and what was even nicer right now was that he didn’t try to force her into polite conversation. Right now, with the nightmare still hanging over her, she wasn’t really in the mood. 

_Maybe you need to be distracted_ , Softpaws said. The cat was sitting on the table, greedily lapping up a bowl of cream. _I could help you. Want me to go and wake your wizard up?_

_No. You know how cranky he gets when he gets woken up too early. Leave him alone._

_Have it your way. Want to go on a nice rat hunt? I’ve seen plenty of nice and juicy ones outside, I’ve been meaning to get to know them better._ The cat innocently licked her nose. _Or maybe that fat and furry little thing that the big human carries about._

_I’ve told you before, you can’t eat Boo. Minsc would go crazy, and I’d be one familiar short._

_Spoilsport. You really need something to cheer you up, you know. Anything._

The door suddenly slammed open, there was some eager and energetic puffing and huffing, and Anomen came jogging over towards the table where the bard was sitting, looking annoyingly perky and apple cheeked. He wasn’t wearing his armor, only shirt, vest and pants, and the shirt was partially unbuttoned, showing an impressive amount of muscular chest. 

_Don’t stare, kitten_ , Softpaws said. _You’ve already made your choice, remember?_

_I wasn’t staring! I was just…admiring the view. And anyway, it’s not as if Edwin ever said anything about his feelings for me, so he couldn’t really blame me if I took a look. Well, maybe he could, but that’s not really the point. Anyway, I don’t feel that way about Anomen._

“My lady!” Anomen exclaimed. His brown hair was rather tousled by the wind, and Rini couldn’t help but notice that it was an improvement over the normal orderly way he groomed it. “Whatever are you doing up so early? And why are you down here alone, with no proper escort?”

“And good morning to you too, Anomen,” the redhead said with a wry smile. “Sit down, why don’t you? My neck will get all bent out of shape if I have to stare up at you like this. And I’m sorry if this comes as a shock to you, but I’m used to going where I please, with no ‘escort’ as you put it. I’m not about to change that, for you or for anybody else.”

Anomen flushed a little, and she didn’t think it was solely caused by physical exertion, but he did sit down opposite her. “My apologies,” he said. “I did not mean to offend. I was merely concerned; this is after all a rough place.” 

“It’s all right. I know you meant well.” Rini leaned her chin in her hand and gave the squire a curious look. “By the way, what are you doing up and about so early, not to mention out in the streets?”

“Ah!” Anomen’s eyes lit up with pride. “I was taking my daily morning exercise, my lady.”

“Your what?”

“It is not enough that my mind be focused on my Lord Helm, I also wish for my body to be the perfect temple, worthy of the powers he grants.” Anomen was really beaming at her by now, and he was fingering his mustache with a rather smug expression. “So, I take a healthy run every morning, followed by some other exercises. Pushups, weightlifting, that sort of thing. Anything I can think of to hone my body to perfection.”

“I…I see,” Zaerini said, trying not to laugh in her companion’s face. _He’s not that dissimilar to Edwin, really. Battle of the Egos, here we come._ “But is it really ‘healthy’ to run about alone in the slums, do you think? Weren’t you afraid of getting mugged?”

“You are kind to worry for my safety, my lady,” Anomen said. “However, it is not necessary. Helm would never let His servant down, and I also have my good strength to support me against all villains who might dare confront me.” He frowned. “Strange, I would almost have expected one to do so, but there was none.” 

_Probably because they were all bent over with laughter, too weak to move_ , Softpaws said. _Cats don’t run about making noise like that. That’s something dogs do. He’s even panting like one._

_True._ “Well,” Rini said, grinning, “I’m sure Helm is very grateful for your efforts.” 

_Yes_ , Softpaws said as she lifted her tail in Anomen’s direction, in what must be considered a rude gesture. _I bet. He’s probably desperately asking the other gods to trade him a priest with some brains._

“I would like to think so, my lady,” Anomen said. “Truly, I have always done my best to serve him properly.” He hesitated a moment. “I prithee, my lady...it fills me with no small amount of wonder that you have not asked me of my journeys ere we met? We have traveled a short while, and yet we know next to nothing of each other.”

“That’s reasonable,” the bard said. “If we’re going to travel together, we should get to know each other better. Sure, tell me about your journeys, if you want.” 

“Ah,” Anomen said, puffing himself up again. “There is precious little to tell, although my few adventures have been glorious, indeed. The path to knighthood is a long one, however...hence the need for my travels. But a few of my deeds have reached the ears of bards. Battle is commonplace enough throughout Amn, and the Order has fielded its army many times in recent years.” He gave her a hopeful look. “My lady, you are a singer of songs and a teller of tales. Perhaps you have heard about my campaign against the Hillgnasher Giants?”

“Um…sorry.” 

“Oh.” Anomen’s face fell a little. “Well, you are from far away, so perhaps it is not so surprising. Most recently, however...let me think...I was with our men when the orcs came down into the Ommlur Hills once again. In great numbers, they are a force to fear...but individually, they are no match for a warrior. I, myself, was able to fight through many of them alone and take the head of one of their foul chieftains.”

“Hm, I haven’t much experience with fighting orcs,” Rini told him. 

“Well, that is no surprise, a lady such as yourself should not…”

“However, me and my friends have fought some other interesting critters,” the half-elf said in an innocently charming voice that would have warned anybody who knew her better that they were treading on dangerous ground. “Let’s see…there were the doppelgangers of course. And the giant wyverns, those were really nasty. And that werewolf infested island was no picnic either. But the worst, that had to be the Death Knight. Well, either that or the demon. That one gave me a bruise or two.” 

By now Anomen was gaping at her in a very satisfactory manner. “My lady…surely you are jesting?”

“Nope,” Rini said, staring straight into his eyes without blinking. “It’s all true. Ask Jaheira if you don’t believe me, she was there too. And if you want me to take you seriously, you had better do the same to me. I’m not helpless, I’m not fragile, and I don’t need to be treated as such, all right?” She waited a moment, and when it was clear that no reply was forthcoming, she patted the squire encouragingly on the hand. “You can close your mouth now if you want to.” 

“I…what of the other rumors? Minsc said something about you stopping a great war, between Amn and Baldur’s Gate. I thought little of it at the time but…”

Zaerini shrugged. “I can’t be sure exactly what Minsc said, of course, but that much is true. I didn’t do it alone of course; I had my friends to help me. And it wasn’t really my primary concern, I had personal business to deal with, and the war thing was only a side effect.” 

Anomen blinked. “I see,” he said. Then he seemed to come to a decision. “My lady, you have given me much food for thought. I hold you now in even greater esteem than before, and I hope that I may prove myself through valiant deeds, such as those you describe.” He reached across the table and reverently took her hand. “I will seek to prove myself not only to my Order, but to you as well, that I vow.” 

“Um…sure,” Rini said. “You don’t really have to prove yourself to me, you know. But I’m happy we understand each other a little better. Want some breakfast? The others probably won’t be down for some time yet.” 

As she waved Bernard over to place another order, Zaerini had no idea that one more of her companions was awake already. Edwin was standing on the stairs, motionless and concealed in the shadows, and as he watched the Helmite below him his eyes burned with deep hatred.


	20. Tazurel Kin

**Cards Reshuffled 20 – Tazurel Kin**

_It’s funny about words. Sometimes you don’t understand them at all, but the deeper meaning is still comprehensible to you. Perhaps it is in the voice speaking those words to you, soul speaking directly to soul. But anyway, sometimes you just know, even if you don’t know that you know._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“So,” Zaerini said as the adventurers set out towards the Docks. “Think Mae’Var has noticed that his documents are missing yet?” It was a fine morning, with a clear blue sky. Pity that the stench of the slums was so strong, and that the refuse was all the more visible in the sharp sunlight. 

“Very probable,” Edwin said with a small shrug. “We had better be prepared for a fight when we get there.”

“You know, I was a bit surprised to find you working for Mae’Var in the first place. A Thieves Guild isn’t the first place I’d have gone looking for you, I’d have expected to find you…I don’t know…working for some nobleman or something.” 

“I have certain contacts,” the wizard said. “I am knowledgeable about how such organizations work. And as for nobles, the so-called nobles of Amn are hardly worth the name. The Odesseiron line is ancient and was so before these ridiculous little ‘noble’ families had worked themselves up to the position of ‘first swine herder’.”

“Say, Red!” Jan said, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “That actually reminds me of a story.”

“Silvanus grant me patience…” Jaheira sighed. 

“You see,” Jan went on, “my Great-Uncle Filibus Jansen was a very skilled swine-herder. The best. He could make those pigs do the most amazing things. Stand still, jump through hoops, beg, play dead, play ham…you name it. Greatly respected he was, and people would beg for him to look after their pigs for them.”

“I’m not interested in your ridiculous relatives,” Edwin sneered. “I was speaking of mine, who happen to be…” 

“Anyway,” Jan went on, “one day Great-Uncle Filibus met this charming young lady gnome, named Rosberta Popinjay. Very high and mighty family, the Popinjays. Why, they owned ten large turnip fields all to themselves, and what more could anybody ask for? So, Filibus and Rosberta ran into each other at the annual Spitting Contest Ball, and the usual thing happened.” 

“Please spare us the indecent details!” Anomen said. 

Jan blinked. “What’s up your armor, knighty? Nothing indecent about Rosberta winning the Spitting Contest, is there? That is what usually happened. Or were you thinking of something else?”

Anomen subsided into heavy silence, blushing furiously.

“Oh,” Jan said. “And Rosberta and Filibus also fell head over heels in love with each other as they shared a glass of turnip juice.” He sniffed loudly. “Sadly, when Great-Uncle Filibus went to propose, it turned out that Rosberta’s father wouldn’t let her marry a Jansen. He had already betrothed her to another wealthy gnome, named Osric Oddlefit. Bad turnips, the Oddlefits, the entire lot of them. No appreciation of a good story. Well, this was many years ago, and Rosberta felt she had no choice but to agree.”

“Poor Rosberta and Filibus…” Zaerini said. “That’s so sad.”

Jan nudged her cheerfully. “Ah, but the story isn’t over, your Worship! Great-Uncle Filibus was a very resourceful young gnome, you see. He trained his pigs into forming a living pork pyramid, as it were, and then climbed on top of them to reach the fair young gnome’s bedroom window. Well, Rosberta was very happy to see him of course, and only too eager to run away from home. They rode off into the sunset on the back of the largest pig, and that’s how the Popinjay family got a much-needed injection of Jansen blood. Twelve young tots Rosberta and Filibus had, and all of them fond of pigs.” Jan winked at Edwin, who was looking a little dazed by now. “They say a little swine herder blood really perks a family up. You sure you haven’t got any, Red?”

“Absolutely not,” the Red Wizard said, looking greatly annoyed. 

“No? Pity. Let’s hope you never need to rescue any young ladies then; you’d be totally stumped. But you could be wrong, them swine herders are tricky folks.” 

“Would hamster-herder be all right?” Minsc asked. “Minsc thinks he would enjoy that if he wasn’t busy being a Hero. But Minsc will take care of pigs too if that is the best way to be a Heroic Savior of Young Ladies.” 

“Hey, look at that!” Rini exclaimed. “We’re at Mae’Var’s place already. Isn’t it strange how the time flies when you’re having fun?” Edwin, Anomen and Jaheira all groaned simultaneously, and then they all looked very put-out. 

The gloomy building that housed Mae’Var’s guild looked even more off-putting than usual. There was no guard outside, but Rini could almost feel dozens of unfriendly eyes watching her. “Everybody be really careful,” she said. “Let’s pretend everything’s still nice and friendly but be ready for anything.” 

“Minsc is ready!” the large warrior cheerfully exclaimed. “Minsc is always ready. The heads of the wicked ones inside may be crammed full of evil thoughts, but Minsc will insert his trusty sword inside their ears and clean them all out!”

“Right, but at the moment…”

“EVIL BEWARE! MINSC AND BOO ARE HERE!” 

“Minsc, no!” Zaerini cried out as the ranger raised an enormous foot. 

CRASH! 

The door splintered into a million pieces, and then Minsc rushed inside, sword raised. Surprised cries could be heard from inside, intermingled with shouts of ‘Go for the eyes, Boo!” Cursing under her breath the half-elf hurried after her friend. 

Inside the dark entry hall that also functioned as a bar in order to fool casual visitors, Minsc was busy battling several thieves. Individually none of them would have been a match for the large man, but they were adept at striking in just the right spot and at attacking from behind. Minsc was bleeding from several wounds already, but they didn’t seem to be slowing him down, and there were a couple of corpses on the ground. Not pausing, Zaerini mouthed the words of a spell, and then the world slowed down around her, the enemies moving slowly, as if they were struggling through a swamp. Of course, it was really that she and her friends were moving faster, but it gained the same results. 

She managed to fire off a couple of arrows before she had to dodge a savage blow aimed at her throat, and then there was a loud cracking sound right next to her ear as Jaheira’s quarterstaff broke the jaw of one of the attackers. The man dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Edwin pointed at the doorway on the other side of the room, and a large globe of red-hot fire flew from his fingertips, landing on the other side. Several shrieks could be heard. The wizard smirked with satisfaction, but then he gasped with sudden pain as a dagger found its way in between his ribs. Edwin clutched his side, looking surprised, and there was red on his fingers, something redder than his robe, something that was dripping onto the floor. 

“NOOOOOO!” the bard screamed at the top of her voice, and now the fire was racing wildly through her veins, the monster within was free of its chains and out for blood. She had her sword in hand now, not a particularly rare sword, but at least a little magical, and she was standing over the wizard protectively. Dimly, she was aware of Anomen casting a spell, and of several armed men suddenly becoming very visible in their various stealthy positions around the room, something that seemed to make them very uncomfortable. _Kill. Kill. KILL!_

She was hardly an expert swordfighter like Sarevok had been, but that primal rage was the same, and it was driving her forward. What she lacked in strength and training she was at least partially able to compensate for with natural agility and the spell she had cast. One of the thieves was before her, and her free arm shot out, clawing at his eyes with fingernails that suddenly were far longer than they should have been. Even as the blinded man screamed and tried to protect his bleeding face her other arm took its turn, and the sword stabbed into his guts, finishing him off. 

Zaerini thought she could hear something, the sound of a wild beast snarling, and twisted around, alert. But there were no more enemies standing, the last one fell as she looked on, one of Jan’s crossbow-bolts firmly lodged inside his throat. Within her, the bloodlust fought for control. _Kill! Kill more! Kill them all!_

Then her eyes fell on Edwin, and the fires in her blood smoldered and went out. The wizard was weakly getting into a sitting position, already arguing with Jaheira as the druid administered her healing spells and protesting that he didn’t have the time to be still, because clearly everybody would make a mess of things if he wasn’t around to take charge. His eyes lit up as Rini hurried over to kneel beside him. “Are you all right?” she asked, hoping that she wasn’t babbling. “Thanks, Jaheira, you’re the best, you know that?”

“Yes,” the druid said in a dry voice. “I know.” 

“Of course I am all right,” Edwin said. “It takes more than a little scratch like that one to stop Edwin Odesseiron, glorious Battle Wizard! (Ah, that does sound nice. I hope she likes it.)”

“Actually,” Jaheira chimed in with a biting look in her green eyes, “it would only have taken a few moments more to turn you into ‘Edwin Odesseiron, glorious corpse’. Try not to get stabbed too often, I do not have an infinite supply of healing spells you know.” 

“I could have taken him! I was only…er…playing severely wounded to make him drop his guard.” 

“Whatever you say, Eddie,” Zaerini said, smiling at the wizard. “Just try not to let it happen again, would you? I much prefer you alive, and you had me really worried there for a moment.” 

“Oh…ah…certainly.” Edwin staggered to his feet, swaying like a tree in full storm, and when the bard swiftly moved in to steady him, he held on to her for perhaps a little longer than was necessary for medical reasons. “Though I would of course make a magnificent corpse, it would be nothing compared to me as a live wizard, my entire body filled with magical energies to enflame the senses and…” 

“You are certainly full of something,” Anomen said, glaring at the wizard. “And as a corpse you would at least be silent, a definite improvement.” 

“Yes, I expect you would know all about corpses. An inexpert healer like yourself probably has fewer living patients than dead ones. Come to think of it, have you ever treated a human being, or do you limit yourself strictly to other chimps? If you find it difficult to answer, try with one grunt for yes and two grunts for no.” 

“I’ll treat you to a…”

“Not again!” Rini said, cutting the two arguing men off. “Can we please go downstairs and fight Mae’Var, rather than you two fighting with each other? Thank you.” As she passed by Edwin on her way towards the stairs, she mouthed ‘I want to talk with you later’ to the wizard, who looked both surprised and pleased. 

Zaerini knew to expect the worst as she once again descended the dark stairs leading towards Mae’Var’s torture chamber. But as it so often is, the reality was far worse than anything she could possibly have imagined. The smell of blood was heavy in the air, the rack was fortunately unoccupied this time, but there was something else. A table, and a body had been tied to the table, very tightly, and then somebody had…gone to work on it. It was really amazing the things that could be done to a human body, the things that could be removed from it, while still leaving the person alive and conscious to feel everything. There were knives on the table, and a saw, and pincers, and some objects that looked like they could be heated up. All of them seemed to have been used, often and with great pleasure. Blood wasn’t the only smell in the air, burnt flesh was competing with it. _Like Irenicus_ , Rini thought, staring in mute horror at the still living body on the table. She couldn’t even tell if it was male or female any longer, and when it moaned softly, indicating that some glimmer of life still remained, she almost threw up. _Just like Irenicus._

Mae’Var was standing beside the table, holding an extra long knife. His arms were bloody to the elbows, and his sharp, bird-like eyes glimmered with pleasure as he turned to see the half-elf and her friends. “Come for me, have you?” he said. “I am not surprised. I still have friends you know, and they have told me. Come then. But first…allow me to dispose of my latest toy. I think it’s time I got myself some new ones, don’t you?” He stabbed the knife down into what was presumably the chest of the unfortunate victim on the table, there was a gurgling sound, and then nothing. Mae’Var laughed, a rich, deep, pleasant laugh of good cheer, as if they were sharing some kind of private joke. 

_Irenicus_ , Rini thought again, fighting the vomit down. _Just like Irenicus. But no. Not exactly like Irenicus._ In a flash of insight, she remembered, and she knew that what made Irenicus so especially frightening was that he didn’t gloat, or laugh, or seem to take any pleasure at all in what he was doing. He simply did it, for some reason that only he knew. Whereas Mae’Var was more or less a mad dog. 

_And mad dogs need putting down_ , she thought. She prepared herself for the battle, and once again she listened to the song of the fire in her blood. 

Mae’Var might have been a disgusting sadist, but he wasn’t insane to the extent that it impaired his fighting, unfortunately. Worse, he had apparently gathered a few friends together when it became clear to him that enemies were on their way. As the vicious thief drew his sword, several men in dark and non-descript clothing became visible around the room. Zaerini noticed that one of them was raising a holy symbol of some sort. A cleric, then. That wasn’t too good. “Keep the thieves at a distance!” she shouted. “Edwin, Jan, the spellcaster!” 

The Red Wizard and the gnome got her point immediately, and they fired off a large number of Magic Missiles at the cleric just before Rini had the time to finish her own spell. A hissing green arrow embedded itself in the cleric’s chest, dripping corrosive acid. The man screamed with pain and clutched at the projectile, sinking to his knees. He would be dead in moments. However, he had had the time to cast a spell of his own, and a shimmering golden light had flickered across the enemy rogues, who suddenly seemed both stronger and faster than before. 

“You will hold where you are!” Jaheira cried out in a strong voice, raising her hands as she called upon the power of her god. Twisting vines erupted from the ground, scattering earth and rocks about them in small explosions as they broke through the floor. It seemed to be some sort of seaweed, probably because the ocean was so close, and the spell used what vegetation was readily available. Thick vines clutched at the ankles of the attacking thieves, tripping them up and slowing them down, making them easy prey for magic and missiles alike. Another spell from Anomen froze two of them in place, immobile like statues, not even their frightened eyes turning. They didn’t last long. 

Mae’Var had somehow managed to dodge the spells though, and now he was swiftly approaching. Zaerini could see the eager gleam in his eyes as he headed directly towards her, and the small flecks of foam on his lips. He seemed to be far too eager for her blood to even be bothered with trying a sneaky approach. Her jaws setting into a stubborn line, she prepared for the attack. _A flame arrow right between the eyes, that’s exactly what the bastard needs. I may not have been able to fight Irenicus, but I can fight this nasty little creep._

But then Minsc was there, stepping between her and the enemy, and there was a loud clang as Mae’Var’s blade met with the large two-handed Sword of Chaos. “You are a very bad man!” the large ranger said. “Boo says it is time for the bad man to meet Minsc’s sword. Look! It slices…and dices…and IT CHOPS BAD MAN’S HEAD OFF FOR TRYING TO HURT MINSC’S WITCH! RRRRRAARRRRRRGHHH!” 

Thud. 

There was a look of extreme surprise on Mae’Var’s face as his head flew through the air and hit the wall, neatly dropping into the wastepaper basket that stood in one corner. For a second or two his body kept going, trying to stab Minsc in the kidneys. Then it finally realized that it was dead and fell like a puppet with cut strings. 

“Thanks, Minsc,” Zaerini said, staring at Mae’Var’s body. Within her, the murderous fury that had risen when she first spotted the mutilated body on the table slowly faded away, leaving a feeling of emptiness behind. “I’m glad you did that, and I’m glad I didn’t have to do it. What I mean is…I would have enjoyed it too much, I think, and that sort of thing can get very dangerous for me, you know?”

“Minsc doesn’t,” Minsc said, “but he is happy if little Rini is, and Boo is happy too.” 

Rini nodded, and for a moment she watched as Jaheira and Jan searched Mae’Var’s body. The man had owned a lovely suit of black leather armor, unfortunately not a size that would fit the druid, but it should still fetch a nice sum, and he had some gold and gems in his pockets too. _Just a little bit closer to you, Immy. Just a little bit closer._ Then something Minsc had said suddenly came back to her. “Minsc? Did you call me your ‘witch’ just now?” 

“Oh,” the large man, sounding very bashful. “Minsc is sorry if he has said something bad, he did not mean to. Are you angry about it?”

“No, of course I’m not angry,” the half-elf said, smiling encouragingly. “I’m your friend, you can talk to me. I’m just curious, that’s all.” 

“Well,” Minsc said, and his foot, twice the size of a normal man’s, trailed shy circles on the ground. “Now that Dynaheir is…gone, Minsc has no witch anymore. I was meant to protect her you know, for my trial of manhood, and I failed, so I cannot join the Ice Dragon Berserker Lodge.” 

“Yes, I know that. I’m really sorry.” 

“But Minsc also needs a witch to look after, because that is what I was trained to do, and I need a witch to look after me, because that is what witches do, and Boo says that Minsc needs that. Boo looks after Minsc too of course, but Boo thinks it would be even better if we had a new witch. Minsc almost asked Aerie if she wanted to be his new witch, but now he is glad he didn’t.” Hurt confusion rose in the big man’s innocent eyes. “Aerie did not seem Evil, but now Minsc knows that she is, and if he sees her again, he will let Boo do what he wants with her.”

“Right…” Rini said, feeling almost as confused as Minsc. “Well, sometimes bad people don’t look bad, or the other way around. Don’t feel bad about being fooled by Aerie, you weren’t exactly the only one. Er…what does Boo want to do with her?”

“Minsc would rather not say. It might make your tummy upset. But Minsc still needs a new witch, and then Boo asked me why I had not asked little Rini, who is a good friend and not Evil like Aerie is, and Minsc felt very silly that he hadn’t thought of it. It was just that you fight with sword sometimes, and sometimes with magic, that is why Minsc did not think of it, but Boo says that doesn’t matter, because little Rini already knows more spells than Dynaheir did when Minsc first met her. So, Minsc was going to ask, but then he got in the fight with the bad man and shouted without thinking. But Minsc will ask now. Will you be my witch?”

The bard felt a little stunned after listening to this monologue, but then she looked into the open and honest face in front of her. “Minsc…you do realize I’m not from Rasheman, don’t you? I’m not ever going to be that kind of witch.” 

“Minsc knows, and it is fine. You will be a good witch, Boo says so.”

“Well…if Boo says so, sure.” Zaerini smiled again. “I’ll be your witch, if that’s what you want.” She had hardly finished the sentence before she found herself swept up in an enormous hug, her ribs creaking. 

“OH, GLORIOUS DAY!” Minsc shouted, tears of joy streaming down his face. “Minsc has a new witch! Hooray!” 

“Yes…good…I think I need to breathe now…” 

Minsc’s sudden and loud exclamation had attracted the attention of all the other adventurers, who’d been busy searching the room. Jan looked amused, Jaheira a little impatient, Anomen annoyed. Edwin however, looked absolutely outraged. “What?” he shouted. “You cannot mean this! You cannot possibly mean that you’re about to lower yourself to become one of those…one of those filthy witches! Don’t you know what they…have you no idea…” He broke off with a frustrated noise. “They are the scum of the earth, it’s as simple as that!”

Zaerini sighed. She’d been prepared for a negative reaction, but not one quite as strong as this. She’d always suspected that Edwin had personal reasons for detesting the Witches of Rasheman, apart from the rivalry between Rasheman and Thay, but he had never wanted to tell her what it was about. “Eddie, calm down!” she said. “I’m not about to become one of the Witches of Rasheman! I couldn’t, even if I wanted to, which I don’t. I don’t want to belong to any organization. But even if I did want to, they wouldn’t have me, they only accept those born in Rasheman.” 

“Yes, but…”

“Minsc knows that too, don’t you Minsc?” She waited to see the ranger nod before she went on. “When he says ‘witch’ he means ‘magic user’, and he’s used to traveling with one. Nothing sinister about it, you know.” 

Edwin frowned, and he didn’t look pleased at all. “Very well,” he said. “But I don’t like it one bit. (How in the world am I ever going to explain this to…it doesn’t even bear thinking about. But come to think of it, I wish I _will_ get the chance to explain…)” 

“I’m sure you’ll get used to it. Anyway, I guess it’s time we went back to see Renal Bloodscalp and collected our reward. But let’s go outside and get some rest first, I need some sun and fresh air.” 

Once she had exited Mae’Var’s Guild, or what had formerly been Mae’Var’s Guild, Zaerini stood still on the street for a few moments, breathing deeply. After the smells of that dungeon room, it was a welcome relief. True, the salty air held a definite tinge of rotting seaweed and fish, but she didn’t care at all about that. Then she turned to Edwin. “I need to talk to you alone a little,” she said, taking the wizard by the arm. “Let’s go down towards the water, shall we?” Then she grinned. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to push you in.” 

“It would be no obstacle to me if you did,” Edwin said. “I am a wonderful swimmer. Not that it would be necessary to actually demonstrate my prowess. (I’m sure I could master a water-walking spell, and it would be more dignified.)” 

“My lady,” Anomen said, frowning. “Do you really think…would not a chaperone be…”

Rini stared at him. “A what?”

_A guardian of your virtue_ , Softpaws told her. _Meant to keep you from going about your mating in peace, one of those silly human things._

_I know what it is! And I don’t plan to ‘mate’ in the street, thanks very much! And certainly not right now. I need to take things one step at a time. The time was right before, but then Edwin took off, and now I need to…I don’t know…get back to where I was. I think we can, but it will take some time._

The thought of ‘mating’ intruded itself on her mind, conjuring a very vivid vision of the wizard and herself. She was starting to feel very hot. 

_Pah. You’re practically about to tear his clothes off right now._

_I’m not! That was a stray thought you picked up right now, not something planned._

_Makes no difference. It’s still what you want. You might as well go about it._

The bard was just about to make a hot and heartfelt reply when she realized that Anomen was still looking at her expectantly. So was Edwin, for that matter. So were Jan, Jaheira and Minsc. Jaheira looked exasperated, and Jan looked as if he were watching some kind of exciting game. 

“No,” she said. “No chaperone, thanks.” 

“But…” 

“Anomen, for one thing, I’m not exactly a ‘lady’. And I’m not Amnian, so I don’t really care that much about that sort of thing. And besides, are you already forgetting that I talked to you without a chaperone only this morning? Come on, fair is fair.” 

“But…”

“That’s right, you unwashed son of a troll and an Umber Hulk,” Edwin said, smirking triumphantly as he trailed after the redhead. “And I am sure you bored her practically to tears, going on and on about your tedious and uninteresting thoughts about things you could not possibly hope to comprehend. That would be everything, in case you were wondering, except possibly how to open nuts by hitting them with a rock. (Yes, just look at that dull, vacant look in those ugly muddled eyes.) Whereas I, of course, am a brilliant conversationalist, capable of charming the birds down from the sky and…”

“Let’s see you put those conversational skills to work then,” Rini interrupted, taking the wizard’s hand and dragging him off before Anomen had the time to work himself up for a fight. “This is rather important.” 

She led Edwin to a secluded spot she had spotted earlier. Broad stone stairs led down to and into the water, and right now they were dry and nicely warmed by the sun. She sat down, watching the glittering blue sea below her, and the sweeping seagulls who were fishing in the harbor. The hissing sound of the waves crashing against the stairs was very soothing. She waited until the wizard had sat down beside her before she started speaking. “I think,” she said, “that it is time I told you everything about a wizard named Irenicus.”

-*-

“One of the worst things was that he was so…so dispassionate about it all,” Rini said a short while later, still staring down into the water. “As if what he was doing to me wasn’t even important enough to make him feel anything about it, as if I was just a thing. A means to an end.” She had briefly told Edwin about her capture by Irenicus, or what little she could remember of it. Now she was starting to speak of the wizard himself, and what he had done to her, but it was hard. So very, very hard, because in speaking of it she remembered, even some things that she hadn’t been able to recall before. 

“Are you sure you wish to do this?” Edwin asked. The wizard had been noticeably quiet over the past several minutes, simply listening, and now there was a peculiar strain in his voice. He took her hand, seemingly almost without thinking about it, and held it so tightly that it almost hurt. “I am willing to listen of course, but I…would not wish to cause you further pain.” 

The half-elf gave him a grateful smile in return. “No, I’ll be all right. I need to tell you this, so you’ll understand better in case I, well…freak out or something. It’s just hard…” She hesitated, hardly knowing where to start. It hurt to remember, but the humiliation was almost worse than the remembered pain. He took us so easily. And then…he did exactly what he wanted, and I couldn’t do anything to stop him. And then she knew where to begin to explain. “Do you remember Reiltar?” she asked. “Sarevok’s adoptive father, back in Baldur’s Gate? Do you remember when he…abducted me? And what he did?” 

A cold mocking voice. Hands all over, touching and groping. Drugged, helpless to prevent it, yet awake enough to feel the pain and the shame. Crying, and ashamed even of that, of letting the shame show. 

“I remember,” Edwin said. His eyes were filled with hot rage, a hatred deep enough to kill, but his voice was very gentle, very soothing. 

_How I’ve missed that voice._

“This mage…” Edwin went on, picking his words carefully. “This…Irenicus. Are you saying that he…that he did what that other swine did? That he…”

Rini hastily shook her head, her red hair whipping against her cheeks. “No. At least not as far as I remember. There are…holes…in my memory still. I only mentioned that because of how he made me feel when he did the things he did. The way he still makes me feel. It felt much the same.” 

Edwin was finding it very difficult to control his temper. Every fiber of his being wanted to scream with rage, to kill, devastate and destroy, to completely annihilate the creature who had dared touched as much as a hair on the head of the woman in front of him. But he had to try to remain calm, at least outwardly so. He knew that she needed him to. Right now, she was looking paler than usual, and there was a suspicious shine in those large and slightly slanted golden eyes, as if she could barely keep from crying. _He will pay. This…this Irenicus will pay for that. Every tear he ever made her cry will be paid for, in blood._ “Tell me,” he said, fighting his temper down once more. 

Zaerini sighed, biting her lip a little before she went on. “He’s a very powerful wizard,” she said. “Frighteningly powerful. I’m not even sure if he’s human or not. He always wears this mask, you see.” She went on to describe the enchanted mask, the coldly perfect face depicted on it. “And his eyes are blue,” she said. “So blue…the coldest eyes I ever saw.” She shivered, despite the warmth in the air. “Colder than the north wind. And his voice is like…like it came from a machine of some kind. No life in it, no feeling, and yet he is living, not undead, I’m sure of that.” 

_A demon?_ Edwin thought. He had never heard of any creature resembling this ‘Irenicus’, and that worried him more than he wanted to let on. He was an excellent conjurer and had always been fascinated with strange beasts and creatures, and it disturbed him that he didn’t know what to make of this. _It makes no difference_ , he thought. _Whatever else he is, he will die. The minute he harmed her; he became a dead man walking. He simply doesn’t know it yet._

“I’m not going to tell you everything he did,” Zaerini said in a decisive voice. “It would only make you upset. But you need to understand what he’s like…what he’s capable of.” She closed her eyes for a moment, and Edwin almost thought she would be unable to go on. But then she spoke again. “He wanted me to hurt, as much as possible. I still don’t know why. He used knives and whips and…just think of everything Mae’Var had in his basement. Irenicus had it all, and then some.” She flexed the fingers on her right hand, watching them curiously. “Once he broke all my fingers, one by one. It sounded like when you step on a twig in the forest and it snaps in two. Exactly like that.” She made a little sound in her throat, halfway between a sob and laughter. “I guess he knew how important my hands are to me. And you know, I thought that I would gladly have cut off both my hands if only he’d let me go.” Now it was definitely a sob. “He healed me later…I think it was a couple of days later, but I’m a little hazy on that point. He made me scream first though. He made me scream, scream until I hardly had any voice left to scream with, and he made me beg for the pain to stop, and that hurt more than anything else, and he knew that. He knew exactly what he was doing, but I still don’t know why, and I still keep remembering it.” By now tears were streaming down her face, her eyes were red, and she was sniffling loudly. She wiped angrily at her nose before she went on. “And I don’t know which is worse, that I remember part of it, or that there are still things I don’t remember.” 

A thousand curses had been running through Edwin’s head as he heard this story, but by now he was too angry to be able to think of even one. Had he had Irenicus in front of him in that very moment he wouldn’t even have been able to muster the simplest spell, he would simply have tried to choke the life out of the other wizard with his bare hands. He looked at the woman in front of him, his mind a conflicting maelstrom of swirling and conflicting emotions, and then he did the first thing that came into his head and simply gathered her into his arms, holding her tightly as she cried into his robe. 

She felt small against him, something that startled him a little. Of course, he was aware that as a half-elf she was both shorter and more slender than a human, it was just that he normally didn’t think of her that way. All the fire in her eyes, the restless energy in her movements conspired to make her larger than life whenever he thought of her. But right now the fires were burning low, and as he wrapped his arms around her, one hand stroking the bright red hair, he felt almost ready to weep himself, and certainly to rage against the world for daring to hurt her like this. Her hair was tousled and a little sweaty from the earlier fight, but to Edwin it felt like the finest silk, smooth and soft, and sending tendrils of soft flames through his trembling fingertips along his arm and straight into his heart. _Red. So very red. So beautiful…_

He longed, oh how he longed to reach down and kiss her until she could hardly breathe, and then to progress onwards from there. The desire was almost eating him alive, a raging inferno, a hurricane. _But I cannot. I must not._ She was upset, in pain, in need of comfort. He couldn’t take advantage of that, especially not when he knew he had hurt her deeply before. _Suppose something happened, but it was only because she was upset and not thinking clearly? I could not stand that, not hurting her, not hurting her ever again. My poor Hellkitten…I do not even know how she feels about me now. Once…but that was then, before I left. Now…who knows? But I will find out, and maybe I can make things right again._ He frowned as he briefly considered Anomen. He didn’t like the way the cleric behaved around Zaerini, not at all. Far too interested, far too proprietary. _I hurt her badly…suppose she…suppose she has feelings for that armor-plated baboon? No! I will not allow it! I will fight for her if I have to, and I will win. I will have her back. I have to. I…love her._

Edwin vaguely realized that he was murmuring quietly into the half-elf’s ear, softly comforting words. He was hardly aware of what he was saying, but she seemed to be responding to the tone of voice at least, and the body contact. Her sobs were gradually slowing down, turning into weary hiccups that for some reason sounded absolutely endearing to his ears. In fact, even the wet and sniffling sounds her nose was making were totally perfect and adorable. Eventually, she sat up, pulling away from him a little, and gave him a weak smile through her tears. “See?” she asked. “Told you I might freak out eventually.” 

“No,” Edwin said, surprised that his voice wasn’t trembling more than it actually was. He was still holding on to her, his arms wrapped around her waist, and he wasn’t about to let go unless he absolutely had to. “No, you did not ‘freak out’.” He paused, uncertain how much it would be prudent to say. After all, he didn’t want to upset her again. “We will find Imoen,” he said. Jaheira had explained the details of the young thief’s capture earlier, and he found it utterly repugnant. _Imprisoned and abducted because of some accidental use of magic. Is nothing beneath these Cowled Wizards in their zeal to control all magic by themselves?_ “We will find her and set her free. Then we will find this…this Irenicus, and then he will find out that that he still has a great deal to learn about causing pain. I intend to give him a very extensive series of lessons, with himself as the subject. And then I’ll have him resurrected so I can do it all over again.” 

“Thanks,” Zaerini said, and some of the light was back in her eyes by now. “And…thanks for listening, and for being there. There’s something else I think you should see.” Hastily, she rolled the sleeve of her shirt up, baring her arm. There were several long scars marking the otherwise smooth skin. They were mostly faded, so probably at least some healing had been performed on them, but still visible if you were looking for them. “I guess the scars will always be there,” she said, “but they’ll fade more and more.” Then she placed one slim hand across her heart. “And that goes for the ones inside as well. I’ll live, and I suppose the scars will fade. Maybe one day I’ll hardly remember them. Right now, they still hurt though. I just wanted you to know, to understand that I’m not quite healed yet. But now…now I know that I will be.” 

There was something in her eyes…something he couldn’t quite interpret. Was it a question? An answer? Maybe even a promise? He was almost afraid to hope for the last, afraid of disappointment. 

“You will be,” he said. “If I have anything to say about it, you will be. And I am, after all…”

“The greatest wizard in the whole wide world,” the bard filled in, a small and crooked grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Yeah. I know. And a very intimidating one as well, I might add.” 

“Oh. Yes. I was actually just about to say so. And I haven’t even begun to list my many wondrous talents, but I wouldn’t want to overwhelm you with such a vast multitude of superiority. I suppose it would be better if I demonstrated them one at a time.” 

By now the half-elf’s eyes were definitely sparkling, and her smile was slowly getting wider. “I wouldn’t dream of missing it for the world,” she said, and something about that smile made Edwin feel like he was about to dissolve into a steaming puddle. It was still a very pleasant sensation though. 

They sat in silence for a few moments, until Zaerini finally sighed. “I guess we’d better go back to the others,” she said. “They’re probably getting worried.” 

Edwin was tempted to explain in great lengths just what he thought the others, and especially Anomen, could do to themselves. But he could see that she had made up her mind, and that an argument would lead nowhere. Besides, he was reluctant to break the mood, and so he simply nodded and followed her, very unwilling to let go of her. They were almost back with the rest of the party when he realized just what it was he had whispered to her earlier, when he was upset and didn’t pause to consider his words. She wouldn’t have had any way of understanding it of course, not speaking Thayvian. 

_Darm kin. My heart. Aris kin. My soul. Tazurel kin. My love._

Maybe it was for the best that she wouldn’t have understood. He didn’t want to rush her after all, and he certainly didn’t want to upset her. He didn’t even know for certain if she could feel that way about him again. Yes. It is probably for the best. Edwin thought about this for a second. But on the other hand, it might be a good idea to find her a Thayvian dictionary…

_Tazurel kin. My love._


	21. Truth Be Told

**Cards Reshuffled 21 – Truth Be Told**

_Everybody needs somebody, at least one person with whom they can share anything, no matter how painful or humiliating. I may have occasionally liked to pretend otherwise, but of course in this respect I am just the same as anybody. When it comes down to it, friends are the ones who are not afraid to tell you what you need to hear, and who are there to pick up the pieces afterwards._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

The trail had grown infuriatingly cold. Dekaras glared darkly into the drink standing in front of him, as if it were somehow responsible for the frustration he was feeling. The plain fact was that he was temporarily stuck here in this dull little excuse for a town, and there was nothing he could do about it. Edwin had arrived here in Beregost, he knew that much. But then the boy had apparently headed south, accompanied by a local mercenary for hire, a dwarf named Kagain, and nobody in town seemed to know any specifics about where they had gone. Kagain was known for being very discreet about the people who employed him and to get upset about enquiries about them. That wouldn’t have stopped Dekaras from making an attempt, but unfortunately the dwarf was currently out of town, and it was uncertain when he would return. 

Thus, the assassin had no other choice than to wait, and he was finding it immensely annoying. He was normally much more patient than this, but ‘normally’ wasn’t an applicable word when it concerned Edwin. Not having any idea of where the wizard was, or if he was well, was making him very tense. _He’s so reckless…he could get himself into any sort of terrible mess, involve himself in some half-baked and dangerous scheme and not be able to disentangle himself on his own. Not to mention what might happen if he should stumble across some powerful magical spell and decide to play around with it. Anything might happen. And meanwhile I am stuck here, waiting for some dwarf who might have decided to go off and visit his relatives for a couple of decades or so. It’s intolerable._

Last night he’d even had one of his recurring nightmares, a sure sign of being under stress. This was the one where he had to try to keep track of a few dozen infant versions of Edwin all at once, all of them cheerfully and innocently playing with fire, running towards deep chasms, pulling the manes of lions, eating dangerous substances, teasing demons or falling into lakes. Too many, far too many, and every time he managed to catch one child and pull him back to safety two more popped into existence, happily risking their lives. _Too many…too fast. But I have to keep him safe. I have to._ He had finally woken up a little before dawn, covered in cold sweat and unable to go to sleep again, and it had put him in a foul mood for the rest of the day. _And to think there are people who say that you become a calmer, more serene person by having children. Ha!_

Eventually he had come to this dingy little tavern known as the ‘Jovial Juggler’, in the hopes that having some people around him might distract him from his worries a little. So far it hadn’t helped. He’d had a drink or two, and he’d participated in a game of darts. Unfortunately, now nobody wanted to play against him anymore. _Cowards. Well, at least I increased my funds a little._ And right now he was sitting alone at a table, watching the other customers. Nobody particularly interesting was present. There was the usual mix of farmers, merchants, caravan guards, a random adventurer here and there. Nobody he particularly fancied talking to. Sighing, he stared into his mug of dark ale. His reflection didn’t look very happy to see him. Come to think of it, it didn’t look very healthy either. He’d been on a more or less constant move these past few days and hadn’t eaten all that much. Or slept, for that matter. _I guess I’d better slow down a little._ Still, he couldn’t get rid of the feeling that Edwin needed him and needed him soon. _And if I came too late, I would never forgive myself._

Dekaras shook his head. This was getting him nowhere, and worse, he knew that if he allowed these thoughts to continue, he risked thinking himself straight into the mental equivalent of a deep, dark pit, just the same as he had in Icewind Dale. It wasn’t that simple to not think of something though. And then, just as he had managed to quit staring into the ale and moved along to staring at the worn tabletop in front of him, he was attacked. A small, but compact body tackled him from below the table, overturning it completely, and wormed itself onto his lap, bouncing cheerfully in a rather painful manner. Meanwhile, a pair of small, but muscular arms wrapped themselves tightly around his throat, squeezing. The one thing that stopped him from immediately gutting the offender was that the creature planted a big kiss straight on his nose, something that most hired killers definitely wouldn’t do. In fact, he knew of only one who would. _Impossible!_ A chirpy voice squealed delightedly into his ear. 

“Hi Dekkie! Boy, I sure am glad to see you! You’ve been away from home for ages. Aren’t you coming home soon? We all miss you and little Eddie-kins. Where is he? He isn’t hiding from his Auntie Poppy, is he? Speaking of hiding, I can’t believe you didn’t spot me just now, I must be getting really good at sneaking. You aren’t ill or something are you? You don’t look too good. Here, I’ll kiss it all better.” Another soppy wet kiss, this one on his forehead. 

Dekaras sagged down in his chair, trying to get some air into his aching lungs. His eyes widened as he took in the face right in front of him. A smiling halfling face, round and red-cheeked, with merry and glittering brown eyes and shining brown curls. She’d braided them, one corner of his mind idly noticed, the way she often did when she was working, and now had a pair of stubby pigtails sticking out almost at straight angles from her skull, decorated by a large red bows. The clothes were more non-descript though; a fact of the assassin’s working conditions that always irritated her since she loved bright colors. “Poppy?” he said, sounding as incredulous as he felt. 

The halfling grinned widely. “That’s me! Your very own Best Friend, in the flesh. Aren’t you happy to see me? You look a little funny.” 

“Poppy, I’m _always_ happy to see you…but could you please stop bouncing about like that? It hurts a bit.” 

It was a few minutes later, and Dekaras had finally managed to make his Best Friend stop bouncing, as well as trying to strangle him with her enthusiastic hugs. She was still sitting on his lap though, since she had declared that none of the chairs in the tavern were halfling-sized, and that she didn’t want to spend the rest of the evening getting a crick in her neck from trying to see his face. She had also ordered one of her favorite drinks, a sticky sweet monstrosity that looked more or less like a liquid fruit salad and that she happily claimed ‘would put more fur on her feet’. She had already swallowed more than half of it. “So,” Poppy said. “Where is my favorite little wizard?” 

“Er…” Dekaras said. ‘I lost him’ seemed to lack that certain something. Before he had the time to say anything however, the conversation was interrupted. 

“You there!” a loud voice said. “The halfling! I demand that you give yourself up right now, in the name of the law!” A young man in shining armor was striding towards the table where the two assassins were sitting, looking highly indignant. He had a face of the sort that a knight novel would probably call ‘a noble countenance’, and no doubt some women would normally have found him attractive. Not at the moment though. At the moment, his hair was a bright, nauseatingly bright green, something that clashed with the angry red of his face. The fact that the big sword he was holding was glowing viciously blue didn’t make things any better. 

“Ooops…” Poppy said, giving her friend a sheepish grin. 

Dekaras sighed. “Poppy,” he said. “What’s this all about?”

“I’ll tell you what it’s all about!” the knight raged. “That…that little monster sold me a special hair oil, for ten gold pieces, and now look at me! I was a beautiful natural blond, and now I look like…like a vegetable! Or an orc!” 

Dekaras looked at him. “Well,” he said. “Maybe you have a lovely personality.” He paused. “On second thought, probably not. It seems you have the brains of a vegetable as well, and I wouldn’t want to insult any orcs by comparing them to you. Go away before you manage to seriously annoy me.” He put a certain edge into his voice as he spoke the last sentence, but the knight was too furious to pay proper attention. 

“Aren’t you listening?” he screamed. “My hair is green! I’m a paladin of the Noble Order Of The Most Radiant Heart, and I WILL NOT BE MOCKED LIKE THIS BY SOME MINUTE VILLAINOUS LITTLE HAIRDRESSER!” 

_Oh, wonderful_ , Dekaras thought. _A paladin. Just what I needed to make my day complete._

“Hey!” Poppy piped up, gulping down the last of her drink and then burping violently. “I’m no hairdresser! That hair oil was meant to kill you, but I guess the poison must have gone old or something. Dekkie, do you want to take a look at my poison supply? You’re better with those things than I am.” 

Dekaras quietly put his hand across his face. _Not again. She always gets talkative when she gets drunk. And this young fool is likely to…_

“Base villains!” the paladin trumpeted, his eyes almost bulging from his skull. “I shall use my trusty sword, the Extra Super Special Foeslaying Virgindefender…I mean Virtuedefender…to chastise you properly, or my name is not Sir Pontus Pious!” 

_Not before I use my trusty, and totally anonymous, but very sharp throwing dagger to puncture your left eyeball, you twit. Which I will do if you so much as try to bruise either of us._ “Oh,” Dekaras said, letting his voice settle into a lazy drawl calculated to annoy. Despite his original desire for peace and quiet, by now he was rather enjoying himself. “I suppose that means your name isn’t Sir Pontus Pious then?”

The paladin frowned as he tried to work his way through this, but before he could answer another newcomer came hurrying towards the table, looking particularly murderous. This second fellow was also wearing armor, but it wasn’t the least bit shiny. It was dark, had vicious spikes on the shoulder pads, and was ‘decorated’ with a large number of evil-looking skulls. It actually reminded Dekaras a little of Sarevok. It seemed to be his style. Even the helmet followed the same theme, and this second young man’s angrily red face peered out from under a monstrous thing that was probably meant to resemble a dragon’s cranium. It had long sharp teeth, glowing red stones for eyes, and the sword the man was carrying was glowing red as well. “You! Halfling!” he said in an accusing voice. “For what you did to me I’m going to cleave you in two, and then I’ll cleave those two bits in two so that I get…uhhh….er…” 

“Four bits?” Dekaras said. 

“Yeah! Urh…four bits! That’s right!” 

“Perhaps we could leave advanced mathematics for now,” the assassin suggested. “What exactly seems to be the problem?”

“The problem? THE PROBLEM? Just look at this!” He tore off his helmet to reveal exactly what the problem was. A pair of long, white and fluffy white ears slowly unfolded and then bobbed gently up and down, twitching nervously at all the loud noises around. “SEE?” the man screamed. “SHE GAVE ME RABBIT EARS! SHE SOLD ME AN EARWAX REMOVER AND IT TURNED MY EARS INTO RABBIT EARS!” 

Dekaras gave his friend an inquiring look. 

“It was meant to be a deadly poison,” Poppy said, shrugging. “I guess my supplies must _really_ have gone funny. And the priest who hired me was going to pay me well too…what a shame.” She gave the angry man in the spiky armor a cheerful smile. “Hey, at least you got yourself a pair of cute little rabbit ears! I think they’re much prettier than your old ones.” 

“CUTE RABBIT EARS? I AM SIR NOXIOUS FEARSOME, BLACKGUARD AND SCOURGE OF THE NORTH! BLACKGUARDS DON’T HAVE RABBIT EARS!” 

“Looks like they do now,” Dekaras said, as he was mentally calculating the best way to take out both paladin and blackguard. “Who knows, if you’re lucky you may even start a new fashion. Maybe you could become an earring model.” _This sort of thing always seems to happen whenever I go out on the town with Poppy. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed it._

Meanwhile, Sir Pontus Pious had managed to finally comprehend the insult that had been aimed at him, and he didn’t like it at all. “Insolent churl!” he told the seated assassin. “My sword is too good for you anyway! Tremble, villain! For I shall use the power of my God to Smite Evil, as is granted to me once a day!” He pointed a triumphant finger at Dekaras. 

“I think you would do better to go and have a nice lie down in a dark and quiet room,” the assassin said. “In time, and with the proper healing spells, the delusions might go away.” _Smite? What kind of person actually uses that word?_

“Ha! I’ll show you! SMITE! SMITE, SMITE, SMITE!” A beam of dazzling blue light shot out of his fingertip. 

“Ick,” Poppy said, watching the light with great interest. “Does that hurt, Dekkie?”

“It tickles a bit,” Dekaras said as he watched the blue light that was sparkling off his clothes. He gave the paladin a polite look. “Is it meant to do that?”

“No! It’s meant to strike you down with righteous fury! It won’t work! Why won’t it work?”

“Move aside, stupid!” the anti-paladin sneered. “If you weren’t as thick as a plank, you’d understand that no true Servant of Evil would insult me, a genuine blackguard. Clearly, he is a sickening Minion of Goodness! But I’ll show him how it’s done! I’ll just use my AWESOME power to Smite Good, like I can do once a day!” Dekaras couldn’t help but notice that this time around it was the middle finger that was used. Possibly that gave extra Evil Points. Also, the light that shot out of the finger was a dazzling red, which intermingled with the blue one to create a rather violent purple. Apart from that, nothing much happened. 

“But…” the blackguard whined. “Why isn’t it working?” 

“Are you done soon?” Dekaras asked him, once again using his politest voice. “This is getting rather tedious, actually. I could always pretend to be in terrible agony if you want me to.” Meanwhile he made an almost invisible signal that only Poppy was able to pick up on. The halfling nodded and mouthed a quiet ‘You go left, I go right’. Then she swiftly hurled her glass, which was a heavy and solid one, straight at the still outstretched arm of the paladin. At the same time, Dekaras did the same with his own mug, managing a solid hit on the blackguard’s elbow. Red and blue light trembled, wavered, and got completely knocked off target. Both men screamed with pain as their respective divine powers hit each other, and then they dropped dead – literally so. 

“Oh, goody!” Poppy said. “That means I can collect on the assignments after all. “Thanks for the help, Dekkie!” 

“You’re welcome,” the taller assassin said as he got up from the table. “And I’m sure I’ve told you before not to call me that.”

“Of course you have, Dekkie. Do you want another drink? I’ll pay; it was my fault we had to waste them. And the targets as well.”

Dekaras shook his head. “No,” he said. “I think I’d prefer to go somewhere where we can speak in private. Somewhere where we aren’t too easily spotted.” He looked himself over and grimaced with disgust at the bright purple glow that still surrounded his entire body. Little purple sparks shot off his fingertips whenever he touched anything. “Not that I see how I could possibly manage to be discreet while glowing like a streetlamp…” 

-*-

The truth hurt. Yet the thought of lying never crossed his mind. Not to her. Concealing the truth might have been an option, skirting around it in clever feints the way he sometimes did when he needed to. But no, that wasn’t really an option either. She knew him far too well for that, and he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Never that. “I lost him,” Dekaras said, absentmindedly noticing how empty and distant his voice sounded, as if it was coming from miles away. “I’m not sure what happened, but somewhere I must have done something terribly wrong, or he would never have acted the way he did. I only wish I knew what it was that I did, even if I can’t take it back now.” Memories came floating back, drifting into his memory like persistent ghosts, whispering in mournful voices. The bleakness of the empty ice fields. The cold emptiness that had entered his heart in the moment when he had realized that Edwin must have deceived him on purpose, the despair that still hadn’t left him, though he was better able to suppress it now. The wound inside was still open, still hurting, though the flow of blood had slowed. 

He had needed privacy for this conversation but hadn’t wanted to retreat to the room he had rented for the night. He needed fresh air, and open space, not the sensation of dirty walls pressing in and people moving in the corridor outside or in the adjoining rooms. Not the smells of unwashed bodies, or the sounds of laughter, arguing, lovemaking, fighting. The scent of pines, the distant yapping of a hunting fox, those were far more to his liking at the moment, and so he had asked his friend to accompany him to a quiet spot some distance into the woods around Beregost. 

It was a rocky hill; one that could be relatively easily climbed, but still would make certain that nobody was going to stumble across them by accident. The rocks were old, and mostly smooth, and at one point a little ways down from the top of the hill there was a small plateau, one that formed a natural seat where you could rest almost as comfortably as in an armchair, provided you didn’t mind the fact that your legs were dangling at about the same level as the treetops and that it was a very steep drop to the ground below. Dekaras didn’t really think about it, being very used to steep drops, including climbing about above them in the darkness, and he knew that his friend also wouldn’t have any problems. Right now she was sitting close enough that their hips were touching, though her shorter stature meant that her legs didn’t reach outside the edge, and she was watching him with a very worried expression on her face, evident despite the darkness. 

“Look, Dekkie,” Poppy said, patting him on the knee. “I think you’d better tell me everything right from the beginning. I really have no clue what’s going on, but I know _you_ , and I’ve hardly ever heard you sound this hurt. It’s like you’re bleeding on the inside and trying not to show it, and it’s really starting to scare me. You know I want to help you, so just tell me what’s happened, all right? Right now, you’re not making any sense at all.” 

Dekaras didn’t answer immediately but stared out into the darkness. The emptiness below was very restful, as were the deep shadows all around. Perfect for hiding, for masking the depth of true emotion. One could easily drift away into those shadows. Simply float in the emptiness, unseen, safe. _But I can’t very well hide from her, can I? I never was able to. I’m not even sure I want to. Even if the truth hurts._

“Why don’t you begin by telling me what you’re doing here?” he asked, stalling for time. “Last I knew you were back in Thay, working on an assignment to eliminate a certain Priest of Cyric. How did that work out?” 

The halfling assassin smiled broadly. “Oh, you should have been there! I posed as a harmless little friendly halfling selling knitted nice brightly colored sweaters with the religious symbol of your choice, all of them very cute, and then I skewered him on my knitting needle as he reached for his purse.” 

Dekaras thought about this for a moment. “Sounds very thorough,” he said. “And I think you’re probably the only one who could have pulled that off.”

“What, stabbing him?”

“No. Selling a ‘cute’ sweater to a priest of Cyric.” He smiled faintly. “I’ve missed you; you know. It’s been far too long.” 

“Awww!” Poppy’s eyes lit like twinkling stars and once again she did her best to squeeze the life out of him in a heartfelt hug. “I’ve missed you too, Dekkie! And you’ve been gone for ages, I was getting really worried! And then my niece Alora wrote and asked me to come visit her, which is where I’m going now, and I kept hoping that maybe if I was lucky I might run into you, or at least hear some news of you, since I knew you were supposed to be about these parts. And then when I saw you today, I was really happy.” She briefly paused to draw breath. “But I can tell you’re unhappy, you know. I know you don’t like to ever admit it, but something hurt you badly and it’s still hurting you. Don’t bother trying to pretend otherwise. This is _me_ , and you know you don’t have to pretend to be perfect around me.” 

“Perfect? Me? Ha, that’s a laugh. I am anything but perfect and I never thought I was. If I were, I never would have managed to make such a hopeless mess of things.” He paused before he went on, still staring out into the empty darkness. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. I do. It’s just that I was in a…bad state just when it happened, and only now am I getting really better. And retelling the story will bring it all back again.” 

The halfling’s voice was edgy with anxiety. “You call this ‘getting better’? I can practically smell your pain from here. Then what were you like earlier?” Suddenly she grasped his arm tightly, and her eyes went very wide. “Dekkie…please tell me you didn’t try to do anything…stupid?” 

“Um…” Dekaras said, feeling extremely uncomfortable. He sincerely hoped his friend wouldn’t be able to see that he was blushing. “It didn’t seem stupid at the time, it seemed like the only logical thing to do. I just thought that if I didn’t exist any longer…”

“YOU WHAT?” Poppy screamed as she got to her feet. 

“…that everybody would be happier all around since I wouldn’t be around to…make mistakes.” Somehow, in retelling it, it didn’t seem all that sensible any longer. Actually, it sounded plain ludicrous. 

Poppy seemed to share this opinion as she gave him an exasperated look. “You know Dekkie, for somebody who’s definitely an intelligent person you can also be unbelievably idiotic sometimes. And please don’t tell me you brought us up here because you’re about to jump off this cliff, because then I’d have to get really angry with you and probably have to knock you out and tie you up or something. And I’d get away with it too, because no matter how much you want to hurt yourself, I know you wouldn’t want to hurt me. Come to think of it, I still might do it unless you give me a very good reason why I shouldn’t drag you home to have some sense forced into you.” 

Dekaras blinked at the tiny bundle of halfling fury standing next to him. Since he was still sitting down, she was at eyelevel with him, and he knew that she meant every word she said. He also knew that she might quite possibly get away with it. After all, she was right. He never _would_ do anything to hurt her. “Poppy, I swear to you that I have no intention to jump off this cliff, or any other cliff for that matter,” he said, and apparently, he sounded convincing enough. Poppy sat down again, but she stuck her arm under his with a determined gesture that clearly stated that she wasn’t about to take any chances. 

“So,” Poppy said. “Tell me what happened then. I need to know who I should go kill for making my Best Friend wish he was dead.”

“Nobody. But I will tell you. I said I would, didn’t I?” And he started speaking, slowly at first, but faster as he got on with the story. He withheld nothing, telling of the mission Edwin had been entrusted with in all its complexity, the intrigues he himself had got involved in, and of exactly what Edwin had done, how he had tricked him and then disappeared. He even told about some of the dark depths to which he had sunk afterwards, and of how very close it had been that he hadn’t been able to crawl out of them again. When he finished speaking, there was a faint sliver of red light in the eastern sky, and the treetops now stood out like jagged black teeth against the horizon rather than being a part of the formless darkness. “I need to find him,” he finally said, his voice leaden. “I need to find him and try to understand why he did it. And that’s not all.” 

“No?” Poppy softly asked. “What else then?”

“He might need me. You know what he is like. He always gets in over his head, not thinking of how dangerous his plans might be.” 

“Oh, right.” Poppy said, grinning. “Completely unlike you, you mean.”

“Yes, exactl…” Dekaras paused, giving his Best Friend a suspicious look. The halfling’s eyes were twinkling mischievously in an alarming manner. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Poppy just winked at him. “Look,” she said in a more serious voice. “Maybe I don’t know exactly what little Eddie might be up to, but I do know one thing. That kid loves you with all his heart. It’s in his eyes every time he looks at you, it always has been. He thinks you’re practically Ao himself. I can’t believe he’d ever want to hurt you, so there must have been something else going on, something he felt he couldn’t tell you about.”

“But what? What could possibly be so terrible that he couldn’t tell me about it?” _He never used to have any problems with that before. I want to believe her. I want that more than anything else in the world. But I don’t know if I can. Not anymore._

“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him.” The halfling grinned again. “You’ll find him. There’s nobody you can’t find when you really put your mind to it. And then you tell him off for a while to get the anger out of your system but try not to scare him too badly. You know how you get when you get worked up. And then you ask him to tell you the truth, and I’ll bet you anything that there’s a harmless explanation.” She paused. “Possibly a silly one, but a well-meaning one all the same. I told you, he loves you.” 

“I used to think so, but…”

Poppy sighed again, pointing her finger directly at his nose, something that made him feel slightly cross-eyed. “You know, Dekkie, part of your problem is that you _think_ too much. Some things you don’t think about. You just know. And this is one of them. Trust me on this. He loves you, and so do I. I wouldn’t lie to you about this, you know.” 

“You know I trust you, as much as I trust myself. And I love you too. I just hope you’re right about this, that’s all.”

The halfling winked again, and then reached out to thoroughly ruffle his hair. “Aw, you’re just adorable when you’re behaving like a lost and fuzzy little puppy, you know that?”

“No, I don’t. And I’m not! And stop doing that!”

“Nope. It looks cute. Trust Big Sister.” 

“Excuse me!” The assassin unfolded himself to his full and impressive height, in order to better be able to stare down his nose at the small halfling in front of him. It didn’t seem to have much effect unfortunately. Not any effect at all actually. “Just who’s the biggest one of us, may I ask you?”

“Huh, you’re only _taller_. But I’m the elder.” 

“Not really. Halflings age more slowly than humans and…haven’t we had this argument before?”

“Dunno.” Poppy was climbing up towards the top of the cliff now, making sure her friend followed. “If we did, I’m sure I won it. Being the oldest and wisest of us and all that. But I don’t mind. You need somebody to look after you, after all. And try not to brood so much. You know, you’re starting to remind me of that time when you were moping all the time and painted your entire bedroom black and kept lying about on your bed being all existential. You know, all that ‘Why are we here?’ and ‘What is the point?’ stuff.” 

“I was _fifteen_ , and I was perhaps just a little bit obsessed with philosophy. I got over it. And I don’t need to be ‘looked after’. You, on the other hand, would be totally helpless if I didn’t practically lead you by the hand and…” Dekaras never got to finish that sentence. He had reached the top of the cliff by now, but as he climbed across the edge he was in a bit of a precarious position. So precarious, in fact, that he failed to notice his friend’s outstretched leg in front of him. It wasn’t enough to make him fall, but it was enough to make him temporarily stumble, and before he knew it there was a halfling clinging tightly to his back, locking his legs with her own and tickling him furiously. Getting her off proved an insurmountable obstacle, since he didn’t want to risk harming her and couldn’t risk them both falling over the edge, and in the end he had no choice but to collapse on the ground, laughing helplessly. 

“There we are,” Poppy finally said with a sunny smile. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. I wanted to be sure you hadn’t forgotten how.”


	22. Cursed

**Cards Reshuffled 22 – Cursed**

_Everybody who walks the road of the adventurer will gain a few enemies. You’d do well to hope that your enemies are the boastful kind who will want to taunt you with their victory, and draw things out. That gives you the time to retaliate, unlike the case with the enemy who’ll simply shoot you._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Zaerini didn’t doubt that Renal Bloodscalp would be very pleased to see her after her successful handling of the Mae’Var affair. _Who knows_ , she thought. _He may actually decide to honour his deal and not try to double-cross me or kill me the way most people I do jobs for seem to want to._ Hopefully she’d get a decent enough sum that she could afford some necessary items. Jaheira could use a better suit of armour for one thing, though the druid would probably let the old thing she was wearing rot and fall to pieces on her body rather than complain about it. And if they were to take on any work outside of the city itself, they’d need travelling gear. Bedrolls, cooking utensils, that sort of thing. So many things to think of, and she was afraid she’d forget something that would later prove vitally important, something they’d need if they wanted to survive long enough to reach Imoen. _Rope. That’s always useful._

However, the thing at the forefront of her mind was the conversation she’d just had with Edwin. Or the weeping session. _I really bawled my eyes out, didn’t I?_

_He didn’t mind, kitten_ , Softpaws said. The black cat padded silently at her mistress’ side, watching her solemnly. _He cares about you, you know. And you needed it._

_Yes. I suppose I did._ It had felt very good to be able to let go like that, if only for a few moments. _And when he held me like that…I felt that everything was going to be all right. That there was nothing we couldn’t deal with, nothing we couldn’t share. Speaking of which, I think I’d better tell Anomen and Jan the truth about me now. They’re the only ones of us who don’t know, and if they’re going to stay with us, they deserve to know. And I have a feeling they are going to stay with us._

The Reading certainly had hinted as much. Parts of it had come true already. The Moon and the Inverted Hermit for betrayal. Well, both Yoshimo and Aerie had shown their true colours by now. _Good thing too. Imagine if I’d kept them around. Things could have got really dangerous. Though I suspect we haven’t seen the last of at least Aerie yet. I don’t think she’s the sort who forgets a grudge easily._ Then there had been the Archmage, the Fool and the Knight of Rods. _All of them members of the group now, and I think they’re all meant to be. Let’s just hope Edwin and Anomen won’t kill each other. They really don’t seem to get along very well, but they’ll just have to learn. Something tells me I’m going to need them both._ The Star and Inverted Justice – well, that was simple. Imoen had to be the Star, and she certainly hadn’t been given a fair trial. _I hope it’s nothing worse than that, but that dream I had…no, don’t think about that now._ The Rogue and the Road of Destiny she hadn’t encountered yet, but she had a certain nervous sense of something coming steadily closer. _He’s on his way, or I’m an ogre. Well, I can’t do anything about it. I just hope he’s not out to kill me or something. Enough people want that already. Though he did seem a bit pissed off in the Reading, for some reason._ That only left one card. The Lovers. 

The half-elf smiled as she remembered the rather steamy vision she’d been given of that particular card. _I thought it was just symbolic. It still might be of course. But perhaps not. No, perhaps not._

“Something on your mind?” Edwin suddenly asked, and Rini startled, feeling a bit guilty. 

“Ah…I was just thinking of something. I thought maybe I’d do another Reading soon. Maybe tonight. After we finish up with Renal I thought we could go have something to eat at that place we passed earlier, the Sea’s Bounty, and then go see if there’s any other work to be had back at the Coronet.”

The wizard nodded. “Very well. Since you now have my own magnificent talent at your disposal, it should be easy to handle any task that we come across.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh yes. Really, I don’t see why you even bother with dragging any of these others with you, they are bound to get in the way. (Far, far better that it be just the two of us.)”

“What, like when Jaheira patched you up earlier, you mean?”

Edwin frowned a little. “A temporary inconvenience, that is all. Soon I will no longer be in need of such things. I haven’t had the time to tell you yet, but my magical powers will soon increase manifold, and the wonders of the Ancients will be mine. I’ll show you, very soon.” 

Rini gave him a curious look. He certainly sounded serious about whatever it was, and excited as well. “Sure,” she said with a warm smile. “Tell me whenever you’re ready. Right now, we’d better concentrate on Bloodscalp though. I don’t want him to think he can swindle me.” 

As it turned out, Renal Bloodscalp was very happy to see them. “Ah, Zaerini!” the red-haired man said, smiling lazily. “I was just thinking about you and your most recent exploits. Mask help me if it didn’t bring a smile to my face!” He scratched his white cat under the chin, and the animal purred contentedly. “Am I to take it that the reason for this pleasant visit is that you have completed the assignment I gave you?”

“Mae’Var is dead,” Zaerini told him in a calm voice. She had decided that a cool and businesslike attitude would probably be the most useful here. “As I’m sure your spies on the street told you five minutes after it happened.”

“Seven, actually,” Renal said, grinning like a shark. “Well done, and your reward is well earned.” He tossed her a fat purse that jingled in a promising manner, then watched with an amused smirk as the bard opened it to check on its contents. _Good. It’s gold coins, genuine ones, and he didn’t try to mix copper into them._ “There are 1000 in there,” Bloodscalp said. “Would you like to count? No? Then allow me to present you with the second part of your payment.” He stuck his hand into his shirt to pull something out, and for a moment Zaerini froze, certain that he was about to attack. However, the thief simply held something out to her, a short sword of some sort, presented to her hilt first. She took it gingerly; feeling a faint tingle in her fingertips that told her the blade was magical. It was a very sharp one, one of the finest she had seen. She only had to touch the edge to see a drop of crimson blood emerge from her fingertip. The hilt was black, plain except for a few small garnets, and the blade was black as well, though not with soot or grime. It seemed it had been treated somehow to give it a matte black colour, absorbing the light rather than reflecting it. 

“That,” Renal Bloodscalp said, still with that disturbing smile, “is ‘The Shadow’s Blade’. You know how paladins have famous swords, Holy Avengers and the like? Well, this is a famous assassin’s blade. Black as sin, so it won’t give away your presence, and sharp enough to slide between a man’s ribs as easily as into a slab of butter. With your disposal of Mae’Var you have certainly earned it. I’m sure you will put it to good use. Or sell it, if you prefer. But whatever the case, I would like you to remember that it is a good idea to do business with the Shadow Thieves, and that nobody crosses them and lives. I’m sure we will have the pleasure of working together again once you have earned yourself some more money.” 

Rini twisted the Shadow’s Blade between her fingers, looking down at the dark blade. It seemed to whisper to her, of the stalk and the silent hunt, of the death in the shadows. _Well, what of it? It is a good blade. And it will do what all weapons are made to do, to kill. What matters is what you do with it. Immy will need a weapon once we find her, or maybe I can sell it. And in the meantime, I can use it myself, it’s better than the one I’ve got now._ “I’m sure we will,” she coolly told Bloodscalp. “Thank you for your generosity.” She turned around and walked out without looking back. _Maybe Bloodscalp did mean to mess with my head, to imply that I’m one of his assassins now. Well, let him. I’d kill a dozen Mae’Vars if that were what it took to get Imoen back. And I’m certainly not about to feel guilty about the one I did kill._

The Sea’s Bounty couldn’t be called a ‘nice’ tavern, but it certainly had plenty of atmosphere. Granted, it was the atmosphere of a rough and dangerous pirate bar, thick with rum fumes, smoke and cheap perfume, but there was something about it that attracted Rini all the same. Several people who looked like sailors were hanging about the bar, engaging in drinking contests at the small round tables, flirting with the scantily dressed barmaids or playing dice or cards. I might be able to pick up some money here, she thought. Either by gambling or performing. Performing is probably safer in this place. She looked at the bar where a small monkey was doing some very uninspired dancing in order to rake in a few meager coins for the bartender. The poor thing had been chained to the bar and forced to wear a little vest and a hat. _Then again, maybe not. I might wind up next to that poor little guy if I’m not careful._

Jaheira had apparently also seen the monkey, and now she pushed through the thick crowd of probably-pirates, who parted without protest, likely because they were surprised by the sudden presence of a half-elf with a more deadly glare than any pirate captain they’d ever seen. “You!” the druid told the corpulent man standing behind the bar. “Is this your monkey?”

The bartender was a fat man with a wooden leg and a very red nose, and he didn’t look unfriendly. “That he be, little lady,” he said. “And may the Thumb say how happy he is to see new guests and…”

“Be silent! That animal is mistreated. You will release him at once and remove that ridiculous outfit while you are at it. Then you will let him eat and rest properly. And if you do not do this, I will make certain that _you_ dance for us, and trust me, you would not like that.” 

The bartender, whose name presumably was ‘The Thumb’ wilted visibly beneath this verbal onslaught, bobbing his head apologetically as he explained that he’d only received the monkey the day before, from a down-on-his-luck gentleman who couldn’t pay his bar tab, and that he really had no experience in looking after animals but would be only too happy to learn, and would she please remove that stick?

“Hmpf,” Jaheira said, lowering her quarterstaff, which she had been lightly tapping against the man’s nose now and then as she made her points. “Very well. And I will be back later to check on him. For now, we need a table big enough for six, a nutritious lunch without bugs, and something to drink with it.”

“Blue Whale? Yellowbeard’s Baby? Red Stump?”

“Whip me up a ‘Green Goblin’.” 

“I would,” Thumb guffawed, “but the Cat-o-Nine-Tails is broken! Har!” 

“Ha,” Jaheira said in an icy voice, breaking off the bartender’s mirth. “Very amusing. Now move it.” She turned to the rest of the party, taking orders. “That would be one Evermead, one red wine, one carrot juice, one ‘Funny Fizzy’ and one ‘Wild Magic’ with a slice of raw turnip, hold the herring.” 

“Just a moment,” Thumb said, peering at the adventurers. “The ladies are fine, and the big gent, I know Mr Jansen of course…but how about you, laddie? Are you sure you’re old enough for this?” He poked Edwin in the chest. 

“Of course I’m old enough,” the Red Wizard sputtered, slapping the offending digit away. “Are you blind as well as foolish, man? I’ve been here before, don’t you remember? (At least I think it was here I was. Memory’s a bit hazy, but no need to mention that bit.)”

“Can’t remember that. Anyway, just ‘cos you got served once don’t make it right to do it a second time. Gotta protect the younger generation. Got any ID?”

“Listen to me, you moronic Sea-Monkey!” Edwin snarled. There was a small twitch in his cheek by now. “I am old enough to drink! I’ve even got a beard, see? I just…er…left my identification papers in…in my other trousers.” 

“Beards don’t mean nothing. Lots of lads try to grow them in order to look older.” Anomen snickered loudly at this, and then the Thumb turned on him. “And that goes for you too, boy! If you weren’t ordering carrot juice, I’d tell you just the same.” The squire turned bright red and his mouth snapped shut. 

“Never mind,” Rini said. “Just give him some…some near-grog or something then.” As she noticed the incensed look on Edwin’s face, she reached up on tiptoe to whisper into his ear. “I thought you could have a taste or two from my glass.” 

“Oh!” Edwin said, sounding very pleased. “Yes…that…near-grog would be quite acceptable. (My lips touching the same glass as hers…perfect!)” 

The adventurers took a seat at a table, and a few minutes later the barmaid turned up with their tray of drinks. She was a pretty blonde, her hair done up in a bouncing ponytail, which coincidentally wasn’t the only thing about her that bounced. The dress she was wearing consisted of a few scraps of gauzy cloth, held together with bits of string and left the customers with a generous view of her charms. Any drunken pirate who thought he could easily have his way with her would have been disappointed however, for in the straps she had around each shapely thigh she carried a pair of very sharp daggers, and something about the way she moved hinted that she wouldn’t hesitate to use them if she had to. When she spotted Edwin, her eyes lit up and she smiled brightly at the wizard. “Oh! Sweetie!” the girl cried out in a happy, seductive and above all loud voice. “You came back! I haven't seen you in ages!”

Rini startled at this and looked the girl over. She was pretty, there was no denying it. And Edwin suddenly looked extremely ill at ease. “So,” she said, not raising her voice but putting the slightest bit of a hiss into it. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend, ‘sweetie’?”

Edwin’s eyes darted nervously from one woman to the other, and eventually settled upon the blonde. “Er... ahh... you must have me mistaken for someone else, wench, I...”

The barmaid seemed very amused at this and bent forward across the table in a manner that drew the attention of all males within view. Then she extended a finger to tickle the wizard under the chin, something that made him jump as if the digit had been red hot. “Mistaken? Ohhh, you can't fool me, silly! I'd recognize that cute little beard of yours anywhere, Eddie!”

By now Zaerini was gripping the edge of the table tightly enough that her nails were practically scratching grooves in it and she had to repress an urge not to leap at the girl and claw her eyes out. Or somebody else’s. “Yessss,” she hissed, her eyes boring into Edwin’s. “That _would_ be a clue, wouldn’t it, Eddie?”

Edwin had turned an interesting shade of pale green now, and it looked as if he wanted the ground to swallow him. “Er…” he said, “I…I have never seen her before in my life, I assure you! Never, ever!” He made a shooing gesture at the blonde. “Ah... the name is Edwin, I assure you, and...”

The blonde giggled. “Don’t be silly, Eddie! You know you recognize your own little Gracie!” Then she suddenly seemed to notice the others for the first time. “Oh, are you here with friends? Everyone says what a brute you are, but I know your softer, sweeter side and I'll tell anyone who says different!”

_Softer, sweeter side? And just what else does she ‘know’ about him I wonder? I’ll kill her if she giggles one more time, and then I’ll kill him!_

For a moment Edwin seemed about to bolt, but then his eyes met Rini’s once again, and he seemed to gain some new determination. “Enough!” he shouted as he got to his feet, glaring furiously at Gracie. “ENOUGH! Begone, wench, BEGONE! I spent one night in your chambers and that is ALL...and I was drunk out of my skull at the time. Speak of it again and I shall burn the flesh from your bones!! Gaaaah!!”

Gracie’s smile melted away and she gave the wizard a cold look, then sniffed. “Well. If that's the way you want to play it, then FINE. Just try to pretend you didn’t like it then.” She walked off in a huff, swaying her hips. Then she paused, giving the wizard a small smirk across one shoulder. “And here I thought you’d at least be a little appreciative, me being your first and all…” 

There was a loud thud as Edwin banged his head down on the table, face downward in a puddle of old beer. Anomen was chuckling loudly, and only a sharp look from Zaerini made him stop. 

“Tsk,” Jan said, grinning widely. “You sure are a charmer with the ladies, there, Eddie my boy. Have them throwing themselves at your feet, eh? Wonders of wonders! And her being your first too…that’s really sweet! I remember my first time; I could tell you the story if you want to hear it.” 

“No,” Edwin said, his face still flat on the table. “I don’t. I’m sure it’s something disgusting involving turnips. (One more word and I’ll kill him, slowly and painfully. Just…one…more…word…)” He suddenly jerked upwards into an upright position again, giving Rini a desperate look. “And besides, that woman was lying! Lying, lying, lying! I am an extremely experienced lover, one to make any female tremble with desire at my merest touch and….and I’m not sure I ever met that woman! I never…er…had a relationship with her. I can barely remember her! It was one night, and I was drunk, I didn’t know what I was doing. I thought she was…er…somebody else…I mean…(Temporary insanity. That’s what it was.)”

“Oh,” the half-elf said, raising an eyebrow. “And that’s how you usually treat women, is it? A little fun and tumble in bed, and then pretend you don’t know them?”

“No! No! Absolutely not. (Gah, why does this have to be so complicated? Summoned concubines are so much easier to deal with.)”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” Zaerini said, tossing her hair back across her shoulder as she fixed the wizard with an unwavering stare that made him squirm like a worm on a hook. “Because if you did, I might just decide to yank that cute little beard out straw by straw.” She reached out to give the wizard’s nose chain a little tug. “And then I might decide to leash you to my belt, so you won’t get yourself in trouble again.” 

“Ha! As if you could, my mighty magics would overwhelm you in seconds. (Come to think of it though, it wouldn’t be so horrible a fate. At least the view would be pleasant.)” 

“Yeah? Want to try me? I’d have you flat on your back before you had the time to blink.” 

_You’d like that, wouldn’t you?_ Softpaws asked in an innocently interested voice. 

_Not now, Softy! I’m in the middle of a fight here._

_Sorry to bother you kitten, but you don’t have the time. Somebody else is coming this way._

_If it’s another barmaid about to cuddle Edwin, I’ll…_

The person approaching was not a barmaid. He was a man just past middle age, in ragged clothes that looked to have seen better days, something that went for the man himself as well. He was tall, and had probably been well built once, but now the flesh hung loosely on his body. His skin had an unhealthy greyish tinge, and he was starting to go bald. His eyes were the most disturbing thing about him though. Small and dark, like grains of pepper, and they never blinked. “Jaheira, my darling!” the man called out in an oily voice. “So good to see you.” 

As Zaerini watched Jaheira stiffen almost imperceptibly she felt her mouth gape open. _Jaheira and this guy? Now I’ve seen it all. Next Jan will probably declare his undying love for Minsc._

Zaerini watched Jaheira carefully as the druid looked upon the face of the unpleasant stranger who had addressed her. Jaheira’s facial expression remained neutral, calm and impassive. And yet there was…something. _She knows who he is_ , the bard thought. _But I was wrong. This is no old friend or lover. This is…something else._ Beneath the table she carefully eased her hands closer to her bags of spell components. 

“I...I am sorry?” Jaheira asked. “Do I know you?”

For a moment there was a look of annoyance in the stranger’s dark little peppercorn eyes. Then it passed, and when he spoke again, he was even smiling. It wasn’t a friendly smile though. “You do not remember? Ahh, but this is understandable. It has been years since we last spoke. Far too long, really.”

Jaheira smiled in return, a hard and satisfied little smile. “Forgive me, but I will require a little more information. Your name again?”

The man cleared his throat and extended his hand in a dramatic gesture. “My name…is Ployer, Baron Ployer? Of the Calimshan Ployers? Come now, you must have some inkling?” Then his face reddened with anger at Jaheira’s blank look. 

“No…” Jaheira said, and now Rini could swear that she was almost laughing. “No...no, I am terribly sorry, but your face is unfamiliar. Perhaps if you told me what you do...”

WHAM! The stranger smacked his fist into the table, making glasses tremble and overturn. “My name means nothing? Nothing?! I am Baron Ployer! PLOYER! You ruined me! Not remembering is an even greater insult! You are why I am destitute today!” He had been gradually raising his voice, and by now he was practically screaming. “You and your Harper kin accused me of breeding slaves in Calimshan! My businesses in Athkatla were taken! I was made a pauper and you do not even remember?!”

Jaheira was on her feet in an instant, and yanked hold of the man’s shirt, pulling him towards her. Rini caught a good look of the druid’s face and was startled at the anger she saw there. Jaheira seemed almost as furious with this stranger as with Irenicus. “I remember well,” she snarled, “but I wanted you to say it, and I wanted others to hear. Quite the outburst, Mister Ployer, I assume you are still at odds with your new life?”

“You...you...This is the type of insolence I was talking about! It is not enough that you ruin a man, you must also berate him!”

Edwin gave him a bemused look. “Of course she must,” the wizard said. “Insulting and humiliating your foe is an art form in itself, one of which I am the undisputed master of course.”

Jaheira ignored him. “MISTER Ployer, I wanted you dead instead of merely humiliated! The courts did not seem to think death was warranted, so they claimed your assets instead. That you live in poverty is gratifying, if you must live at all! I would suggest you change your tone. I am not in a mood for giving charity to old slavers!”

“Aw, come on Jaheira!” Jan said. “Be nice. Even an old slaver shouldn’t go hungry. Here, Mr Ployer, have a turnip!” And he threw the turnip slice that had once graced his drink into the former baron’s face, where it wound up dangling from his nose. “Now, don’t forget to chew properly,” Jan said, grinning at the incensed man. “My great-aunt Flora once choked on a turnip and died and didn’t wake up until a very kinky Necromancer came by and decided to give her a kiss. Sucked the turnip clear out of her windpipe he did, but then he choked instead. They still got married though, and they took turns being the dead one. Very happy marriage, only one of them could speak at a time…” 

“Jan, be silent!” Jaheira snapped. “I am busy getting rid of this vermin.” 

Ployer sneered at this. “Haven't lost your fire, I see. Still a Harper? This little runty one too? That fellow Khalid you were once with was a better compliment. Is he here as well?”

_Ouch, ouch, ouch! Rini thought. He’ll be lucky to leave this place alive now. Or at least with all his teeth._

Jaheira had turned as pale as a sheet, and in that white face her eyes were burning with green fire. “He is none of your concern. If you value your teeth you will not speak that name again. You dirty it.”

“That’s right,” Zaerini said. “I suggest you leave now and stop bothering my friend. I wouldn’t mind removing a few of your teeth myself if you keep this up.” 

“Minsc will help!” Minsc cried out. “Selling slaves is evil, and when it comes to teeth, Boo has plenty of those, sharp and ready to bite.” 

“He speaks true,” Anomen said, scowling at Ployer. “Leave the lady alone or suffer the consequences of your unchivalrous actions as I grind your body to dust.” 

“Sounds wasteful to me,” Edwin remarked. “I could use some new spell components. I believe ‘Liver of Coward’ is one of the required components for the ‘Horror’ spell.” He gave Ployer an inquiring look across steepled fingers. “Would you prefer for me to remove it before or after I kill you?” 

Ployer cleared his throat nervously. “Er, yes. Very well. How about your companions, Jaheira? Do they count themselves among the Harpers as well?”

“We are not,” Rini said. “But we are her friends, and we’ve had just about enough of this. This is your final warning. Get lost, or there won’t be enough of you left to bury.” 

Ployer backed slowly away, his hands raised, but there was something else than fear in his voice. “No matter,” he said in a smug manner, with the pleased look of a man who has everything under control. “You are not my intended victim.” He raised his voice as he turned to the druid again. “Jaheira, I'm going to repay the harm you did me. I did not find you by accident; I'll make you pay for your libelous ways and the shame you have caused me.”

Jaheira snorted contemptuously. “I don't think that word means what you think it means. You really were trading in slaves, you know? How am I libelous...”

“That is beside the point!” Ployer screamed. “What matters is that you ruined me, and now I'm going to ruin you!” He laughed triumphantly as three shimmering magical portals formed in the air beside him. 

_Cowled wizards?_ Zaerini wildly thought. But the three men who appeared were not wearing the gray robes of the Cowled Wizards. Rather they all wore black mage robes, trimmed with green, something that gave them the air of a military force. They chanted rapidly in unison, and something formed in the air between them and the party, something brown and small, like the throbbing heart of a sick child. It pulsated in the air, and then it moved, faster than a striking snake. 

“NO!” the bard shouted, but it was too late. The thing struck Jaheira straight in the chest, driving her to her knees, and then the three wizards were gone again, teleported away. 

“Enjoy my curse, Jaheira!” Ployer laughed. “I had it made specially for you. Wither and die, like I do, die slowly like my family did! Oh, and give my regards to Belgrade when you see him!” Still laughing, he disappeared, teleporting off just like the wizards had. 

Jaheira slowly got to her feet, steadying herself on the table as she did so. She was still pale and breathing heavily. Her temper was just the same though. “By the horns of Silvanus, I'll plant him beneath the Stones of Aisath if I...if I...” Suddenly she broke off, her eyes widening as if with a sudden pain. 

“Jaheira?” Zaerini asked, hurrying over to steady the druid lest she fall. “Are you all right? What did he do to you?”

Jaheira shook her head. “I…am well. I merely felt strange for a moment. It has passed. That...that fat excuse for a slaver, he's cursed me! Damn him!”

“Surely the curse can be removed?” Anomen asked. “I have not the skill myself, but the temple of Helm has many a skilled healer, they will aid.” 

“You don’t know much about curses, do you?” Edwin said. “The slaver said that he had the curse tailor-made for her. That means that only he can remove it. Of course, I would expect you to be ignorant about such matters.”

“And I am not surprised that _you_ know about them, you…”

“Shut up!” Rini cut in. “Both of you. We need to help Jaheira get this curse off, we can’t waste time arguing.” Once she was satisfied that both men looked sufficiently embarrassed, she turned to the druid again. “If Ployer is the only one who can get the curse off of you, then we’ll find him, I promise. Any thoughts on where to look?”

Jaheira pursed her lips. “His old estates were confiscated after he was arrested. He said that he lived as a pauper, which would suggest the slums, but that is a big area. It will not be easy to find him there. However, he also mentioned Belgrade, an old friend of mine who aided with Ployer’s arrest. Bernard at the Copper Coronet knows him, he might know where he is.”

“There are those wizards to be considered as well,” Edwin said. “I have seen them about before, and I believe they are some form of mercenary group. They might provide us with a link to their employer – with a little persuasion of course.”

“Do you know where to find them?” Zaerini asked. 

“Not exactly. But if they are registered with the Cowled Wizards, then they will know.” 

Zaerini nodded as she thought this over. Jaheira still looked pale, and rather more tired than she ought to. “Right,” she finally said. “Here’s what we’ll do. Since we don’t know how much time we’ll have before the curse gets serious, I think we should split up. First, we stop by the nearest temple to make certain the curse can’t be removed, then we divide into two groups. Jaheira, you and Minsc and Jan go to see Bernard and see if he knows anything of this Belgrade person. Meanwhile, I will go with Anomen and Edwin to the Government district and see if we can pick up any leads there. We’ll meet you back at the Coronet by sunset at the latest.” 

Jaheira looked doubtful. “Are you sure it is wise to split up?”

“No. But like I said, I don’t dare waste any time. Anyway, we aren’t exactly planning for any major skirmishes, just to gather information.” _I just hope we will find it in time. And I hope we will have time enough._

Just as Zaerini had suspected, the priest at the temple of Oghma simply clucked his tongue in a worrying manner after he had finished examining Jaheira. “I am afraid I have some bad news, and some even worse news,” he said. “The bad news is that I cannot remove this curse. It runs too deeply; it permeates your entire body and it is like a complicated knot that can only be untied by the person who tied it in the first place. I am sorry.” 

Jaheira nodded. “It is unwelcome news, but not surprising. Can you determine the nature of this curse? What should I expect?”

The priest nodded, and when he spoke next his voice was grim. “We all have our measured years, and then in time the body withers and dies. Some of us have longer years than others, like the elves, but even they are not completely eternal. What this curse does is to speed up the rate at which your body decays, increasingly so. You will find yourself growing weaker, more tired, unable to find the energy to do things that would normally come easy to you. Most likely you will lose your appetite and find it difficult to sleep, as old people often do. Eventually, your body will fail you in one manner or another, and you will die, many years before your normal time.” 

“I see,” Jaheira said. If this news shocked her, she hid it well. Her face might have been that of a marble statue for all the emotion it showed. “And how long will it take?” 

The priest’s voice was almost as grim as that of the druid when he answered. “As exactly as I can pinpoint it, it will take around three days. As I said, I am very sorry.”

“Yes,” Jaheira said. “So am I.“


	23. The Making and Breaking Of Deals

**Cards Reshuffled 23 – The Making and Breaking Of Deals**

_In the adventuring business, you can’t always afford to be picky. When your or your friend’s life is on the line, you may have to put up with a lot that you would otherwise prefer not to. But watching grown men squabble like little children over a favorite toy is still a bit much._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Three days. Two such simple little words, and yet they suddenly seemed to have eclipsed her entire world. To have become her entire world. And that world was a very small, and very short-lived one. Jaheira held her quarterstaff in a tight grip as she walked towards the Copper Coronet, wondering how long it would be before she needed it more as a walking aid than as a weapon. Before she became a doddering old woman in her body, too weak to defend herself, too weak to fight, too weak to take care of herself. _Damn Ployer! He knew, he knew how that would hurt my pride, and he wanted to make my death humiliating, not simply painful. When I find him, I will make him dearly for that. If I find him. If I find him in time. Three days…did I live through Irenicus to have it end like this? Cursed to death by a bitter old slaver?_

It was ironic, really. When first she had seen Khalid’s poor body, she had wanted to die herself, to join him once again. But not now. _The children. I need to take care of the children. And then…then I need to take my vengeance on Irenicus. Then, if Silvanus wills it, I will not mourn my passing. But not now! And not like this! I will not accept it. If Ployer thinks I will lie down meekly and whimper as I see death approaching, he is sorely mistaken. I will fight. I will fight him, and I will fight death itself as far as I can. I will kick it in the teeth and break its skeletal arms as it grasps for me._

The strange weakness that had momentarily overtaken her as the curse struck seemed to have mostly passed for now. There was just…a feeling of something not being quite right. A slight shortness of breath compared to what she was used to. Odd little twinges in her muscles now and then. _It may still be ordinary battle fatigue. I am so focused on checking for signs of evil magic now, I may easily misinterpret the signs my body is sending me._ But that was a lie, and she knew it. She was more than a warrior after all; she was a druid, and well versed in the art of healing. She knew her own body intimately, every aspect of it, having studied it to better understand those of others. She knew that something was wrong, and getting slowly worse, though she was still trying to pretend everything was well. 

“Jaheira?” Minsc said. “How are you?” The gentle giant’s face was filled with concern as he looked down at her. Boo was riding on his shoulder, and even the hamster looked worried. Perhaps it was reflecting its master’s concern. Or perhaps it was the other way around. 

“I am all right,” Jaheira forced herself to say. “I am simply a little tired, that is all.”

“Are you sure? Boo is very worried. As a miniature giant space hamster, he knows evil when he sees it and…”

“Yes?”

“And Boo says the thing that came inside you is very evil.” Minsc bit his lip, a strangely childish gesture that still seemed appropriate. “Would you like me to carry you? It would be no trouble?”

“Who do you take me for?” Jaheria snapped. “Aerie?” Then she immediately regretted her words. _It is not his fault that I am…unwell. And he certainly was not the only one fooled by that little fiend._ “I am sorry, Minsc. I did not mean to hurt your feelings. It is just that…”

To Jaheira’s surprise the large ranger patted her encouragingly on the shoulder. “Minsc does not mind. Boo is proud too; he never wants to admit he’s ill. Minsc knows that you have a heart as brave and stout as that of any hamster and will act as one.” 

“I…thank you, I suppose.” As long as he does not expect me to store nuts in my cheeks or run around in a little wheel. 

“Ah, that truly is a noble animal, Minscy!” Jan said, eyeing Boo with great excitement. “Such ferociousness, such grandeur, such largesse of spirit!”

Minsc cocked his head curiously to one side. “Boo is the best hamster in the world.” 

“Exactly my point! Truly Boo is meant for greatness. And you wouldn’t want to deny him a chance to look his best, would you?”

Minsc gave the gnome a puzzled look. “Minsc would not deny Boo anything, except too many nuts. He must be a lean, mean fighting machine, not a fat fur ball.” 

“Ah, but you do, Minscy, you do!” Jan said in a very sly voice. “See, you are so large and magnificent that you dwarf poor Boo, denying him his chance to really shine. But with a poor and humble little insignificant gnome like yours truly, then Boo would be the one everybody would look at, and he would get all the adoration such a worthy hamster deserves!”

“Yes, Minsc wants what’s best for Boo, but…”

“No buts!” Jan struck a heroic pose with his hand across his heart. “You must think of what is best for Boo. Set him…set him free! Let him strike out on his own, to carve a blazing trail of glory and empty eye sockets across the Realms!” 

_A trail of eye sockets?_ Jaheira thought. _I really do not want to think about that too much._

“Of course,” Jan modestly added, “a great hero such as Boo needs somebody to fetch and carry for him, carry him around, that sort of thing. I’d be happy to take on the job, honored even.”

“Jan…” Jaheira said in a warning voice. “You are pushing your luck here; I hope you know that.”

Minsc was frowning by now. “No,” he firmly declared. “Boo says you are not to be trusted. You just want to steal him from me so you can have him for yourself. But Boo loves me best, and if you try to part me from him I will part your head from your body.” 

“But…”

Jaheira sighed. “Jan,” she said, “that cleric gave me three days to live. You are rapidly lowering my life expectancy by several…hours. Leave Boo alone.” _Still_ , she thought, _having to put up with Jan and Minsc fighting over Boo’s affections is probably not quite as bad as Anomen and Edwin fighting over Zaerini’s. Probably._

Once the trio reached the Copper Coronet Jaheria had an unpleasant headache. She couldn’t be certain if it was due to the curse though. It could have been caused by Jan’s incessant chattering. _By Silvanus, he could even compete with Edwin, and that is saying a lot._ She was certainly very relieved when she entered the Coronet, despite the darkness, the rowdy crowd and the strong smells of sour wine and sourer sweat. Over at the bar she could see Bernard’s round and pleasant face. _Finally. A chance to speak with somebody for a few minutes who is not obsessed with hamsters_. But…why did the distance to the bar seem to increase with every single step she took? It seemed to be receding away from her, dwindling to a tiny spot at the end of a long dark tunnel, and the voices of her companions seemed to be coming from equally far away. Her head was spinning…spinning like a child’s top and her mouth felt so very dry. Then she felt herself stumble and caught herself only just in time. Had she been a little bit slower she would have fallen flat on her face. _And we cannot have that, now can we?_

Then she gradually became aware that somebody was speaking to her. Somehow, she had managed to cross the distance to the bar without noticing, and it was Bernard’s familiar voice speaking to her. “Jaheira?” the bartender said, his voice a little shrill with worry. “Jaheira, no games now, you look like you've seen yer own ghost, or are about to. Young lady, you look about ninety! Are you ill?”

Jaheira laughed, a short sharp bark of a laugh and was surprised at how breathless she sounded. “Ninety,” she said. “Quite the charmer, Bernard. I’m fine. I just need…”

“The hell you are!” Bernard shot back, giving her a stern look. “These louts you traveling with running you ragged? I'll have them fishing for shark in the bay with no net if they...”

“Minsc does not wish to have Jaheira running when she is ill,” Minsc said. “He offered to carry her, but she…” 

“You know,” Jan interjected, “my Uncle, Ahab Jansen, he was a shark fisher too. Looked for Sharky, the Great White Shark, so he did. He even caught him once, but the shark got away. Uncle Ahab always swore that he would have got him if he’d used a stronger hook. As it was, Sharky got away with both the hook and the bait, the bait being Uncle Ahab’s turnip sack.” 

“Jan!” Jaheria said. 

The gnome simply winked at her. “Of course, the shark found them turnips so tasty that he got eager to taste some more of Uncle Ahab. Pursued him everywhere it did. He tried moving to Sembia – the shark followed and ate a whole beach of tourists. He moved to the Moonshae Islands – and the shark followed by smuggling itself into a great traveling aquarium. He moved to Icewind Dale – first thing he sees as he gets off the boat is that great white fin circling in the water. He even moved into the middle of the Calimshite desert. Thought for sure he’d be safe there.” 

“And?” Jaheira wearily asked. 

“And one day he got lost in the desert, almost thirsted to death. Then he found this tiny oasis and said ‘Boy, aren’t I the luckiest gnome alive!’ And he would have been, if old Sharky hadn’t popped out of the water, chewed down the date tree he climbed into, and then ate him alive. Well, I say alive, but he didn’t stay alive for long afterwards of course. Sharky was very polite about it all though.” 

“Polite?”

“Oh yes. He sent us all a condolence card. Turns out that Sharky the White Shark was actually an old wizard with a fondness for diving and a very healthy appetite. Very pleasant man, and he bought that year’s entire turnip crop from the Westfarthing. Said Uncle Ahab had given him quite the taste for it.” 

“Right,” Jaheira said. “Pretend that at this point I laugh, cry or make admiring noises, whichever you prefer.” She turned back to Bernard, ignoring the gnome. “Bernard,” she said, “I need some information. I need to find Belgrade.” Then she felt her heart sink as she noticed the dismayed expression on the plump man’s face. 

“Jaheira…” Bernard said. “I am sorry to have to tell you this, but Belgrade is…well…he’s…dead.”

Dead. The word fell like a leaden weight into the druid’s heart. “Dead,” she said, hardly hearing how hollow her voice sounded. “Belgrade…dead? How? When?”

“A month or so back, maybe. He fell sickly, just like you, and then…” A look of horror slowly spread across Bernard’s face. “Jaheira…what evil business is this? Some sort of plague that only affects Harp…er…you folks?”

“Perhaps,” Jaheira said. “Perhaps.” _A plague by the name of Ployer. Poor Belgrade…my poor friend. He murdered you, did he not? But perhaps you can still help me._ “Bernard,” she asked. “Where was Belgrade found? Do you know?”

“In the eastern parts of the slums somewhere. But there was no way of telling if that was where he’d died or if his body had simply been dumped there. Jaheria…when they found him…his body was all dry and withered, like something that had been dead for hundreds, thousands of years. Are you…I mean…”

Jaheira stared in front of her, thinking. _Is that what awaits me? No. I do not think so. I do not give up. I will not. There must be something we can do still. Something._ “And have you seen Baron Ployer lately?” she asked, ignoring Bernard’s unspoken question. 

The bartender shook his head. “He ain’t welcome here. I’m glad you exposed him, Jaheira.” Then his face darkened a little “Though I think that…but I will not speak of it now. When you are feeling better, come talk to me. There is something you should know. Nothing to do with Ployer, but something that might be…business that needs taking care of. And Jaheria?”

“Yes?”

“You take care now,” Bernard said. “You take good care of yourself, and don’t try taking on Ployer alone when you find him.” 

“I am hardly an invalid, Bernard, I can…” Jaheria broke off in mid-sentence, staring in front of her. Staring at her hands. Her hands around her staff, clutching it tightly. Not ready for battle though. No, not that. She was supporting herself on it, and she hadn’t even noticed. _Three days. Three days, at the most…_

_Meanwhile…_

“Well, that was pretty much a waste of breath,” Zaerini muttered as she glared back across her shoulder at the Amnian Governmental Building. After a long time, she had finally managed to track down a Cowled Wizard willing to talk to her, but if he knew anything about the mysterious mages who had aided with cursing Jaheira, he wasn’t telling. 

“Typical wizard,” Anomen said, giving Edwin a dark look. “Wordy, uncooperative, and overly impressed with his own importance.”

“And who gave you leave to address your betters, prayer-boy?” Edwin sneered. “I get my supreme powers through my own efforts; you get yours by fawning for some god. Your highest aspiration is to get leave to fetch his slippers and beg for a pat on the head, just like the good little dog that you are. Now tell me which of us has an inflated sense of his own importance?” 

Zaerini sighed. She was starting to think that maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to put Edwin and Anomen together. “Will you two stop it?” she said. “You’re bickering like an old married couple.”

That made both men start and look very uncomfortable, but it least it headed off the argument. The cleric and the wizard contented themselves with frowning at each other and as she had put herself between them, she thought she’d be able to distract them. “I’m really starting to hate those Cowlies,” she mused. “Kidnapping Imoen…I’d really like to get them back for that. And then there’s that stupid law against magic. Who gave them the right to exact payment for using your own magic? Nobody, that’s who. They just took it.”

Edwin nodded. “Yes,” he said. “It is truly insufferable, those jumped-up little monkeys, unworthy even of carrying my scroll cases, having the temerity to tell me when I may use my own powers. It is my magic, and nobody has the right to ‘regulate’ it or interfere with it.” His voice turned a little distant, as if he were thinking of something, and he sounded deeply resentful. “That is completely unforgivable.”

“Oh, I couldn’t have said it better myself,” a strange voice said. The three companions turned around to see a man carefully approaching them from behind. He was a fairly ordinary-looking fellow, with dark brown hair and a short beard, but his mage robes were more easily recognizable. Black, with green trimmings. 

“You,” Rini said, putting her hand on the hilt of her sword. “You’re one of those who cursed Jaheira.”

The man simply nodded calmly. “Regrettably, yes,” he said. “But please, let us talk for a moment before we resort to open combat. My name is Terrece, and I suspected that I would find you here, trying to locate us. As it happened, I was interested in speaking with you as well.”

“Were you now?” Anomen asked. “And for what purpose? I warn you, we are well prepared for you this time, and you will not find us easy prey.” 

“In fact,” Edwin added, “should you be foolhardy enough to attack, I will take particular pleasure in opening your mind to the marvels of my vastly superior magic, and I plan to do it by removing the top of your head first.”

“Come now,” Terrece said, “there is no need for violence. I am a wizard, and I am also a…businessman.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You see, the fact that the Cowled Wizards think themselves rulers of all things magical in Athkatla doesn’t necessarily make that true. Amn is a merchant nation, and here everything may be bought and sold. Including magical…services.” 

“So, you’re magical assassins for hire,” Rini said, shrugging. “I’d guessed as much already. And if you have sought me out, I assume you have a reason for doing so. Let’s hear it.” 

“Yes.” Terrece’s eyes were dispassionate, blank like mirrors. “When you encountered us before, we had been contracted to perform a certain…service…for your enemy, the former Baron Ployer. We have also been contracted to perform another, similar service in the near future.” 

Something about the small smile on the man’s face, coupled with his calm voice, made Rini’s mind leap to an immediate conclusion. “To kill Jaheira,” she said. “And probably us as well.” 

Terrece didn’t seem to have heard her. “As it happens, I am not all that fond of Mr Ployer,” he said. “I find him extremely distasteful. You will find him eventually, and we are to be there. Or perhaps we are not, depending on your ability to persuade me. That is the offer I make today.”

“You are an oath breaker then, as well as a murderer,” Anomen said, scowling at the black-robed mage. “Do you treat all your employers like this?”

“Only the ones I dislike,” Terrece said, still with that disturbing little smile. 

“Utterly despicable,” Edwin said, and he looked genuinely repulsed by the other wizard. “A contract is a contract, and not to be taken so lightly. It shouldn’t be broken simply to gain you some extra money.”

“Guys…” Zaerini hissed. “You’re not helping here. He’s offering us a way to get to Ployer. You know, Ployer? The one who cursed Jaheira? So, can we please save the morality discussions for later?” Then she turned to Terrece. “How much for not turning up for your little appointment with Ployer?”

The wizard made a show of thinking carefully. “For not participating in Ployer's little exercise we might charge... oh... one thousand gold pieces. This is a much lower figure than the original service cost. You may ask what guarantees you have that we will not turn on you in a likewise fashion... there is no guarantee but our dislike for Ployer.”

_Careful_ , Softpaws warned. The black cat was sitting on Rini’s shoulder, and now her nose gently nudged the bard’s cheek. _He’s not too trustworthy._

_I know. It’s a gamble. But we need to cure Jaheira quickly, and this will help our chances if it works._

“Let’s make if five hundred,” Rini said. “I’d say that’s very well paid for _not_ assassinating somebody, wouldn’t you? I’m sure you’ll enjoy taking a day off.” 

Terrece smirked. “Very well,” he said. “Five hundred it is. I shall look forward to not seeing you again, young lady.” 

“Just a minute. How about giving me Mr Ployer’s address? I’m very anxious to see him, you know.” 

“I am sorry,” the wizard said. “We met only in public places, and he never spoke of where he lived. What we did do was to give him a sort of summoning aid, a magical item that would allow him to call us to him when our services were required, and then we were to follow that magical guidance in order to teleport to his side. It was a personalized spell though and will not aid you.”

“How about that curse?” Edwin asked. “The one you used on the druid. What can you tell us about that?”

“Ah, it was a little work of art,” Terrece said, his eyes glittering with unconcealed pride. “It was tailor made for her, using a personal item, as I’m sure you know is the best way to go about such things. A lock of hair from her head it was. Worked like a charm if you’ll pardon me a bad pun.”

“A lock of hair?” Rini asked, frowning. “How is that possible? We’ve only been in the city a short time, and anyway Jaheira wouldn’t exactly let you sneak up behind her and cut her hair.”

“It was not necessary to do so. The lock of hair came from an acquaintance of hers, a man by the name of ‘Belgrade’ I believe. It seemed to be a cherished possession.”

Rini stiffened as she realized what this had to mean. “You killed him?”

“It certainly looked like natural causes to _me_ ,” Terrece said. “Anyway, I can tell you one thing. Belgrade was found dead in the slums, in the eastern parts of the district. Since he did not live there, it is possible that he was searching for Mr Ployer. Perhaps he even found him.” He turned to leave, and then added a final comment. “I would advise you to hurry if you wish to save your friend’s life. It was a very good curse, one of my best, and she will not have much time. Find Ployer and find that lock of hair. That is the only way to break the curse.” 

“Well,” Zaerini said once the mage had left. “That was something, but not much.” 

“You should not have trusted him,” Anomen said. “Not only a renegade mage, not only an assassin, but one who boasts about breaking his word. Most likely he will try to kill us all as he has promised to Ployer, so he can get even more money.” 

“Maybe. But if he does, we’re no worse off than if I hadn’t accepted his offer, and if he does, I will get the money I paid him back off his corpse.” Rini gave the squire a quick grin. “And besides, I’m good at gambling.”

“Just be careful,” Edwin said. “You will of course have my immense thaumaturgical powers and towering intellect to assist you, but don’t try anything reckless.”

“Who, me?”

“Yes, you! (Like trying to catch hold of a drop of quicksilver it is, trying to keep her from getting herself killed.)”

“Huh, you’re a fine one to talk, Mr ‘Oh, here’s a weird new magical artifact, let’s try to make it explode’.” 

“Do not worry, my lady,” Anomen said, straightening his back and looking very pleased with himself. “After all, I shall also be along, and I will not find it the least bit difficult to protect you from all harm.” 

Rini sighed explosively and throw her arms into the air. “Didn’t we already have this conversation? Ah, never mind. We need to get back to Jaheira and tell her the news. Then we’ll have to try to find Ployer somehow. Oh, and Eddie, it just occurred to me that I’ve got a few scrolls I’ve found. You might be interested in some of them, I want to go over them with you later.” 

The Red Wizard bowed slightly, a pleased little smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “My pleasure. And I will be happy to aid you in your further studies of the arcane arts, should you wish me to do so.” 

“Sure, sounds good to me! But this time, please try not to lose your temper.” 

“It wasn’t me who lost my temper! (Just because she couldn’t understand the inner workings of a Fireball until the third try does not mean I am a ‘lousy teacher’. And I don’t ‘sulk’.)”

“Yes, you did. And you turned my hair blue for three hours!” 

“That was an accide…I mean…it served you right! And you stuffed nettles into my robes!” 

Rini laughed out loud at this memory. “I know,” she said. “You sure looked funny dancing about like that. But I did help you rub on ointment afterwards, didn’t I?”

“My lady…” Anomen tried. “Should we not…RUB ON OINTMENT?”

“Yes, well, he couldn’t reach his own back, now could he?”

“Oh,” Anomen said, sounding a little more settled. “I see. It does you credit my lady, that you would be willing to aid even him without feeling revulsion at touching his oily skin.” 

“She couldn’t do it to you of course,” Edwin said, sneering. “Her hands would get covered with blisters in no time, since she is allergic to pompous, blithering idiots with the manners of a feral pig and the looks to match. Tell me, are those your lips, or are you sucking on a pair of leeches in order to drain your fat tongue of its capacity for spouting garbage? (And my skin isn’t oily. It is supple, clean and silky smooth, befitting my godlike body. Unlike some people I wash, and not in stinking armor polish either.)”

“One word more out of you, and your tongue will be nailed to the wall!”

“That’s enough,” Rini growled, grasping the cleric by one arm and the wizard by the other. Despite the fact that they were both considerably taller and stronger than she was, she was able to pull them along surprisingly easily. _Next time I may have to split those two up. Lucky Jaheira. There is no way Jan and Minsc could be this troublesome._


	24. Prisoners

**Cards Reshuffled 24 – Prisoners**

_An imprisoned soul – lacking a body. An imprisoned body – lacking a soul. Which one is the unluckier one? And which one the more dangerous?_

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Sarevok had not enjoyed death. Not only had it been painful, it had also been extremely humiliating to be defeated like that, by his little sister no less. However, the afterlife was turning out to be even worse. The large warrior was currently standing on an enormous plain, where black blood oozed from the very ground, forming thick rivers. The ground itself wasn’t rock, or even sand. It was bones that crunched beneath his armored boots, sharp and jagged bones, some of them human, some most definitely not. Some of those bones were old and yellowed, polished to smoothness by time. Others were fresher, with clumps of rotting meat still clinging to them. And beneath the bones was the sand that was not sand, but dust, the dust of countless skeletons ground to a fine gray powder. It clung to everything that dust, to your hair and skin. It got into your nose, it stuck inside your throat to make you cough, leaving a constant taste of death on your tongue. 

There was no sun in this sky, no moon or stars, only an empty blackness, but the rotting corpses that were on their way to join the bones glowed with a constant green light, phosphorescent and hinting at foul rottenness. And there were many corpses indeed, for this was one of the more recent battlegrounds of the Blood War, the eternal feud between demons and devils that had lasted for as long as the multiverse had been in existence. 

Sarevok supposed that things could have been worse, relatively speaking. If it hadn’t been for his own considerable battle prowess, he might well have found himself slowly dissolving in a pit of acid, being torn to pieces and then reassembled, skinned alive or subjected to one of the other various and inventive forms of torture the Abyss had to offer for those souls who wound up there. As it was, the demons, or tanar’ri, had decided that he might be useful to them, and that usefulness had so far spared him the worst of the degradations. Not all though. No, not all. 

_No! Do not think about that. You cannot afford to do so, not if you ever want to get out of this place._ Snarling like a beast in torment the former Bhaalspawn drove his sword through the chest of a hissing black abishai, narrowly dodging the reptilian devil’s spiked tail. There was no time to pause, only to fight, fight for survival. Well, continued existence then. His sword was drenched in blood, of humans, fiends and lost souls alike, and it dripped along his arms, seeping into the cracks in his armor, a slimy substance coating his skin. It was on his face as well, creating a macabre counterpoint to the battle rage in his glowing golden eyes. It pleased him to know that his appearance was frightening enough to actually intimidate some of his foes, even though it would not be enough to put off any of the greater devils. Fear could cut as deeply as swords sometimes, and it would help him stay alive…exist…a little longer. And he would fight with every scrap of strength that he still possessed for that continued existence, there was no other possible choice. 

_The day I give up is the day that I lose. It will not happen. Perhaps one day I will be forced to my knees, but the world will never see Sarevok kneel willingly, not to any entity in the Planes. So, let them fear me, and let them die. At the end of the day I will be the one still standing._

It was a shame that he no longer had his old armor, the one he had had especially made, nor his own sword. He had to make do with what he could get off the battlefield, and though his opponents had provided him with adequate equipment it was a far cry from his old weapons. Those had been lost when he…came here. _When you died. You may as well be honest about it. When you died. When your sister slew you, sending you here._

It was strange, in a way. He should have loathed his sibling for placing him in this position, and part of the old anger was still there, but…something had changed. Vaguely Sarevok could remember how he had felt as he died, and he knew that the thoughts and actions were his own, but they felt so…distant. It was like waking up after a drunken revel, trying to remember the events of the night before, occasionally wincing. _He tricked me. My sire tricked me into becoming his tool, I can see it now. He knew exactly how to goad me into doing what he wanted, and like a blind fool I went along with him. He never planned for me to ascend, all he wanted was for me to die, so that he might reclaim the Bhaal essence._

Well, now the essence was lost to him, and he was lost as well, a lost soul. _Tamoko warned me of trusting in the voice of my sire. And Winski…_ Sarevok suddenly shivered, and then quickly spun around to decapitate the warrior who had been planning to stab him in the back. The head arced through the air, spraying his armor with even more blood, and then was impaled on the empty skeletal ribcage of some huge beast. _Winski…Tamoko…_ There were memories fighting to get through to him, memories that he knew were important but that he fought against with all his determination not to have to confront. Somehow, he knew that they would be the post-death equivalent of waking up in a strange room, covered in blood and with a corpse next to you in bed. _It will have to wait._

He could remember his own death clearly though, and his little sister. _It was a magnificent fight, was it not? Just as…just as I had meant for it to be. Though I had planned for me to win._

But there had been something else, hadn’t there? Another memory forced itself unbidden into his mind. His sister standing in front of him, so much smaller than he was, yet in that moment it had almost seemed that they were of equal stature. Her hair had been tousled, a red storm raging around her face, and her golden eyes had stared unblinkingly into his own. Eyes so very much like his own. _Why is that, I wonder? It could not be the Bhaalessence alone. I killed several of our weaker siblings before I found her, and none of them shared that trait. Nor did I feel that…connection with any one of them. Is it only because she is stronger, the only one worthy of being my sibling? Or something else?_ And she had been reaching out her hand towards him, offering…something, he knew not what. Whatever it was, he had rejected it, choosing instead to fight. 

_It is in the past now. I am dead, and she is alive. I will never see her again. And if I do not wish to spend the rest of eternity as a drafted foot soldier, I had better do something about it._

The Abyss held an infinite number of layers, Sarevok knew that much. You could wander if forever and never find your way out. And yet, there were portals leading elsewhere, if you were lucky enough to find them. Portals leading to other, more pleasurable planes of existence. _The tanar’ri move us around, transporting us to new skirmishes now and then. If I can only stay alive…existing…for long enough, I may eventually reach one of those portals. I will escape. Somehow, at some point, I will escape. And then…somehow…I will regain my life. I swear now that I will never give up, that I will fight past the loss of all hope. I will suffer as much as I have to, I will slay all who would stop me. I will scratch and crawl my way through every layer of the Abyss and into the world of the living. And then I will have my vengeance._

Sarevok laughed, a wild and terrifying laughter, and around him the other lost souls shied back from the fearsome and blood splattered warrior with the fiery eyes. _Yes. I will have my vengeance._

-*- 

Meanwhile, on the Prime Material Plane, another prisoner was contemplating his own captivity in a very different manner. Irenicus sat cross-legged on the floor of his cell, motionless as a rock. Blue eyes stared off into the far distance, far beyond the walls that were meant to contain him, body and soul. _Fools. They will learn their mistake before long._ The mage’s facial mask displayed its usual calm and emotionless face to the world. As for the face beneath it, it had been a long time since anybody had seen that. A very, very long time. The blue eyes that were the only part of his real face visible were clear as they had ever been though, clear and cold. _And my mind is in as perfect a condition as it ever was. She could not take that away, and she will regret that._

The cell was completely smooth and empty, the walls cold iron, as was the door. Air was magically generated within the chamber to keep its occupant alive, but there were no windows, no light whatsoever. All was darkness and still. _Pitiful magelings. They think that will break me, make me submit to their will. How little they know. I am long since accustomed to darkness, and it will only serve to focus my mind, clearing it of all distractions when the proper time comes._

A long time ago this sort of place would have been a torment to endure, devoid as it was of all life, of all green, growing things. Not so anymore. He had left all green growing things far behind. _Though when my plan comes into fruition I will return to them – in my own way._

Neither did the isolation, the lack of company bother him. _Companionship. Friendship. Attachment. Love._ The words rattled through his mind like steel bullets falling neatly into little boxes. _How curious to imagine that I was once so preoccupied with such things, or that I mourned their loss. But that weak and mewling creature is no more and will never be again. Her punishment saw to that._

Beneath the mask, the remnants of once beautiful lips curled in a sardonic smile, a mimicry of the emotion that had once gone with the gesture. _How ironic, that her punishment should partially serve to strengthen me, that through the pain I should be set free, a pure mind in its most unadulterated form. No longer distracted by the storm of emotions that weaken and mislead lesser creatures. Practically divine, but for this annoying shell of a body. This…weakness, dragging me down._

Irenicus frowned as he contemplated the events he had set in motion. _Can Bodhi be trusted to do what needs to be done? Her urges sometimes make her unreliable. It is certainly a good thing I never chose that way to cope with my loss. But I believe she knows the importance of this. She knows that the plan will work, that my choice of donors was carefully made. It is in her own interest to go along with it until she gets what she wants. She cannot go through with the plan on her own after all, she hasn’t the necessary knowledge or equipment. So, she will act, on her own or through her agents, and she will bring me the Bhaalspawn. I must be ready to receive her._

Yes, everything was in order, everything was well in hand. There was the small detail of the Cowled Wizards, and what those wizards presumed to be his captivity of course. _A mere detail. I shall attend to it, but not too soon. When the time is exactly right._

There were wards in this place of course, wards designed to contain the magic of the inmates, not allowing them to use it in any way that went against the specifications of their captors. _But all wards may be broken, given enough experience and power, something I have in abundance. Let them believe they have me caged for now. At the moment it serves my purposes. And then I will make my move._

A pity that the Cowled Ones and the Shadow Thieves had interfered with him though. He had been close, so very close, to unlocking the lock that was the Bhaalspawn Zaerini, so close to obtaining what he needed. _She is strong, she took longer than I had expected. All the better. I wanted a strong one, after all. And she is that, she burns as brightly as a beacon with raw, untapped power. Imagine how I might put that to use…yes, she will serve admirably. And of course, we will also need a little something for Bodhi. Something smaller, more manageable. My sister could not possibly contain what that half-elf has to offer._

It had been an interesting series of experiments, trying to devise the best ways to lure forth that power. Pain had been useful, but despair even more so. Of course, he had been presented with certain difficulties in that regard, having to construct his experiments with the aid of old, almost lost memories, trying to deduce what might produce the desired reaction. But in the end, he had been successful. _I was so very close to an important breakthrough when those oafish thieves decided to interrupt my studies. The most serious annoyance in a long time. But I believe the theory is still sound. It should work once I get the opportunity to put it in practice. I wonder if She would find it impressive? She should, after a fashion. It is not something that any mortal has accomplished before. She could not do it on her own, not without aid._

Again, that ghostly wraith of a smile. _Perhaps I ought to write a little paper on the subject, and then send her a copy. For the sake of old times._

Some more time passed, and all was still and dark as it had been before. _Once I am done here, it will be time to move on_ , Irenicus thought. _We must not keep our allies waiting for too long, eager as they may be to leap into action. And then, then the day will come when I stand before her once again, and I decide her fate. Then the day will come when I finally have what I should have had all those years ago, and more._

Calmly he concentrated on his breathing exercises, reciting his spells from memory inside his head. He would need to prepare carefully, and with the utmost precision. _And I suppose I will also have my vengeance. I believe it is customary to wish for that under similar circumstances, with all the passion of dark hatred. Of course, it will be a mere side effect to achieving my primary goal, but I suppose I should also wish for vengeance. After all, I can still recall the sensation of that desire._


	25. Down A Dark Road

**Cards Reshuffled 25 – Down A Dark Road**

_Much valuable information may be gleaned from the Chaltar Cards, if you know how to read them properly. But be wary, for each card has several possible meanings, and only context will tell you which is the true one. One such card is Death, which may be a premonition of just that, or of something as banal as a new and more fulfilling job. Of course, a new job may also lead to Death, thus neatly fulfilling the Reading twice._

_Excerpt from ‘The Chaltar Deck Of Cards – An Introduction’_

“So,” Zaerini said. “This is what we know. Ployer is hiding somewhere in the eastern parts of the slums, and if we can only find him, we’ll have a very good chance to take him out and to break the curse on Jaheira. The trouble will be finding him. I thought about trying to track him back from the spot where Belgrade’s body was found, but of course we have no way of knowing if Belgrade died anywhere near Ployer.”

“It is still better than searching randomly though,” Jaheira said. The druid was sitting at a table in one of the rooms the party had rented at the Copper Coronet, listening intently to the new information. Zaerini gave her friend a worried glance. Jaheria’s eyes seemed larger than normal and had a feverish shine to them. And her skin wasn’t its normal healthy color; there was a very disturbing gray undertone to it. Jaheira levelly met her eyes, as if daring her to make a comment. 

“Right,” Rini said after a moment. “But I thought I could try something else as well. If I do a new Reading, I may be able to pick something up. No guarantees of course, but if it doesn’t work it won’t waste much time at least.” She cleared her throat nervously. “But before that, there’s something else that needs doing, now that we have a little privacy. There’s something you all need to know. Well, Edwin, Jaheira and Minsc know already. But if the rest of you intend to be full members of our group, you need to know as well.” 

“My lady,” Anomen earnestly said, “you know I eagerly desire to keep on fighting by your side against all evil that may stand against you.” 

“Ha!” Edwin said, scoffing at the cleric. “You couldn’t outfight a mouse if it wasn’t for your god constantly coddling you, wiping your nose and spoon-feeding you powers. (He probably wears nappies beneath that stinking armor. And I know exactly what he ‘desires’.” 

“Silence, cur! If you dare blaspheme against Helm again, I shall turn you upside-down in order to investigate if you wear female underwear beneath that dress of yours.” 

“Can you two please give up this fascination with each other’s underwear?” Zaerini sweetly asked, noting with some satisfaction that both men were blushing. “You’re starting to make me think you’re sweet on each other. Anything else? No? Good.” She gathered herself. “Anomen, Jan, what I’m about to tell you may sound outlandish, but I swear it’s all true. Please hear me out and don’t interrupt until I’m done, and then you may ask as many questions as you like, all right?”

Anomen nodded silently, looking a little worried. 

“Whatever you say, your worship!” Jan said. The gnome had put his feet up on the table and was blowing enormous soap bubbles that floated around the room, glittering in all the colors of the rainbow. 

“Right. I’ll summarize since we don’t have much time, but I’ll tell you everything I think you need to know. It all started one day when Gorion, my foster father, told me that we were about to go on a journey the very same evening…” 

Once the bard finished her tale, she remained still for a moment, watching her companions anxiously. Jan was tapping his fingers thoughtfully against his bottle of soapy water, while Anomen watched her, his eyes very wide and his mouth hanging slightly open, as if he were a child listening to a dark fable. “And that is it,” she said. “I killed Sarevok in self-defense, and I am of the same blood that he was, one of the children of Bhaal. Not of my choosing, but there you have it. I have already told you about Irenicus capturing me not long afterwards.”

“A Child of Bhaal, eh?” Jan said, and blew a large bubble that took on the shape of nasty grinning gargoyle face. It floated up towards the ceiling, leering down at the people below. Then the gnome suddenly grinned and a bolt from his crossbow popped the demonic face and stuck in the roof. “You know, it reminds me of something.” His voice sounded unusually serious. “I know this girl, this sweet little girl, whose father is the nastiest, most turnip-hating scum you can think of. And I’d give anybody who tried to blame her for that a wedgie to reach their chin.”

“Aye!” Anomen said, and his voice was strong with conviction. “My lady, I cannot deny that yours is a dark and terrible tale, but I believe I know you well enough to say that you are a good woman, and worthy of respect. The gnome is right. We do not choose our fathers.” A shadow passed across his face, and his next words were almost inaudible. “Regrettably so.” 

Zaerini slowly exhaled. She hadn’t even realized that she’d been holding her breath, and only now did she notice how nervous she’d been about her two new friends’ reactions. It wouldn’t have been the first time that people recoiled from her in disgust upon learning the truth.

_But the ones who did that weren’t worth the bother, kitten_ , Softpaws said, carefully licking her paw. _You should not care about them. Only the worthwhile ones matter._

_I know. Really, I do. But rejection still hurts._

“I’m very happy to hear this,” she said, smiling warmly. “More than you could possibly know. And now that that’s settled, let’s move on. I’ll do the Reading first and see if I can come up with anything, and then we’ll see if it gives us any new leads.” 

Silence settled in the room as the half-elf took out her deck of cards, slowly shuffling it. She paused for a moment, her fingers rubbing lightly against the backs of the cards. “Ployer,” she murmured, visualizing the ex-slaver. “I wish to find the former Baron Ployer. Anything you can tell me to help me do that will be helpful. Apart from that, anything that it might be useful for me to know.” Closing her eyes, she pulled a few cards out of the deck, then spread them out on the table as they happened to fall. The Four of Coins lay first, a hunched and greedy-looking old man sitting on a throne. His arms were clutching golden coins, and others lay beneath his feet. Next to it lay the Ace of Cups, a beautiful golden cup from which a torrent of liquid flowed. 

Then came Rage, a warrior in armor red as blood, snarling a challenge at the viewer. 

Next the Harp, crossed by Justice Inverted. 

After that the Archmage, and Death, followed by the Page of Cups, and another Death. 

The Knight of Swords, and the sight of the armored figure sent delicate little shivers down her back. And finally, the Void, and her stomach tightened into an uneasy knot as she stared into the empty blackness of the card. It seemed to stare back at her, growing larger and darker until it filled her entire field of vision. Clenching her jaw, she allowed herself to fall into it. 

This time Rini found herself standing in a dark city street, not unlike an Athkatlan one. Tall buildings reared up on either side of her, all their windows shuttered so that only tiny pinpricks of lights emerged. The houses were leaning outwards a little, towards the street, giving her the uneasy feeling that they might land on top of her head at any moment. The street itself was lighted by streetlamps, but they were far and few between, and between them all was pitch black, except for the confusing reflections of the flickering light on the wet cobble stones. It was a dead-end street, and she was standing with her back to the wall, having only one direction in which she could walk. 

_Nothing for it_ , she thought. _There’s only one thing to do._ She could see something a little ahead, a dark silhouette against the nearest streetlight, and she started towards it, trying not to step in any of the puddles of rainwater that were everywhere. As she came closer, she noticed that it was the old miser from the Four of Coins, watching her sourly. He was wearing the clothes of a wealthy Amnian merchant, his face was pinched and hostile and he was holding a pair of purses tightly clutched in his arms. _Does he symbolize Ployer himself, I wonder? Maybe…but it could be something else as well._ “Are you the one I seek?” the half-elf asked. “Are you Ployer?”

“I am not,” the old man sneered. “Yet he owes his existence to me, and he sleeps against my bosom every night.” 

_Eeeewwww! I don’t really like to think about that._

Something of her emotions must have shown on her face, for the miser shook his head. “Not like that, fool girl. I came to Ployer from Ployer, and he kept me when he lost all else. If you seek me out, you will find him.” He raised a golden cup, the Ace of Cups that shone like a candle in the night and sipped from it. “This was once a good year,” he said. “Many came to drink from it. But now it has gone sour, just like him, and the cup has been mostly emptied. Yet it is still there. Find it, and you will find Ployer. If that is really what you want.”

“You speak in riddles,” Zaerini told him impatiently. “Can you tell me nothing else? Or simply mark Ployer’s house on the map or something?”

The man snorted. “No. That is not how it works. If you want something, you have to earn it. Now be off with you.” He melted away into a wisp of smoke that drifted off into the darkness, chuckling dryly to himself. 

_Well, that didn’t really make me any wiser_ , Rini thought. _I’ll have to think about it later. It’s obviously a puzzle of some sort. Now let’s see what lies ahead._

The puddles of water were getting more numerous as she walked along the street, and more difficult to avoid, though her boots were still dry by the time she reached the second streetlight. A short figure stood in the center of the circle of light, leaning on an enormous axe almost as tall as himself. The blood red armor totally obscured his face, but from his body configuration there could be no doubt that he was a dwarf. “Getting’ a mite late, aren’t ye, lassie?” the dwarf asked in a gruff voice. “Stopped to slaughter a few dragons on the way, maybe? Ye should ‘ave let me join in, me axe is itchin’ for some blood. Har!” 

“You would be ‘Mr Rage’ I presume?” 

“That I be lass, that I be. And ye’ll nay find a better rager in all of dwarfdom, ye mark my words.”

“So…are you here to fight me or something?”

“I should hope not! I be here to offer ye a job, if ye must know.” The dwarf shook his head. “Or a ‘quest’ to put it in lingo yon sissy preacher would like. And it be an important one, a very important one.” 

“Is that so?” Rini asked, narrowing her eyes. “To me or to you?”

“To both o’ us. To me, it be worth gold. But to ye, it be worth everythin’. As the dwarf started fading slowly away, his voice lingered behind. “Ye must go where I lead ye, or all yer hopes and dreams will come to naught at the end o’ the tale. Ye must find what I tell ye to, but ye must also find somethin’ else, and ye must cling to it through pain and death, though ye may sometimes wish for nothin’ more than to be rid of it. Remember this, for I won’t be sayin’ it twice.” 

_Find something. Of course. Something immensely important. Naturally. And of course, he won’t tell me if it’s a recipe for dwarf bread, a flying horse, a magic ring or whatever. That would be way too simple._

At the next lamp she spotted a silent figure. Justice, a tall shape in a white robe, but the back was turned, and there was a broken set of scales on the ground, cluttered together with a harp that was cracked in two. _A harp…something to do with Jaheira? Or Belgrade? Or something else?_ “What does this mean?” she asked. “What do you have to tell me?”

“Justice twisted and corrupted,” Justice said in a hollow voice. “The harp is unstrung and broken, and whether it will be mended remains to be seen.”

“The harp…who or what is the harp? Where will I find it?”

“The harp is not to be found. It will find you, and there will be choices to be made. Take care that you choose properly, for if you fail you will never find your friend. The Harp lies in darkness, and darkness is seeking it, but not all darkness need be feared. The Harp must be bent to your will, and not allowed to force you to dance to its own tune, as any good bard will know.” The figure started slowly fading away. 

“Wait!” Rini said, raising her hand. “What tune? What do you mean?”

Justice paused for a moment. “Friend or foe…those positions may change at times. Take care that you remember it. When the harp starts playing, that is when you must learn to dance with the dead – and with those who trade in it.” 

Again, the walk towards the next street lamp, with cold water sloshing about her feet this time, making her shiver as it seeped into her boots. And there…the Archmage. _Edwin!_ Though she did not speak out loud, the cry rang through her heart. Yes, it was a representation of the wizard she knew, not himself, but he was there all the same, and she smiled as she met his eyes. “I guess you grew in power, huh?” she asked. “You used to be ‘Wizard of Coin’.” 

“Of course,” the wizard said. “And power of even higher magnitude will soon be mine, you will see.” 

Then the bard spotted the other shape, the one that was standing right next to her friend. Death, a tall skeleton dressed in a cloak of pure darkness, wielding a scythe. It wasn’t Bhaal this time, she knew that instinctively, but she still felt an icy stab of fear as the skeleton watched Edwin curiously, whetting his scythe. “You will not have him,” she told Death, her voice hard with determination. “Never. I won’t let him die; do you hear me? I WON’T!” Her voice rose to a scream on the final words, but she didn’t care. 

Death didn’t answer, but the empty eye sockets settled on her, evaluating her. _He will be mine._ The voice was simply there inside her head, dreadfully final. 

“Growth,” the Archmage who was Edwin mused, seemingly unaware of the spectre beside him. “I will rival the gods themselves; you will see. Soon, I will be transformed, enhanced. You will hardly be able to recognize me.” 

“But I want to be able to recognize you! Are you even listening to me?” 

It certainly didn’t seem like it. The vision of the wizard faded away, still with a dreamy smile on his face. _It…it doesn’t have to mean ‘death’. The card can mean other things, growth, transformation, developing new powers. It could be something wonderful._

But as Death became one with the shadows that had swallowed Edwin, Zaerini’s heart was filled with the cold and terrible certainty that it would not be. 

Zaerini trudged on along the dark street that constituted the path of her Reading, her heart heavy with worry. _Edwin…please don’t go and do something stupid that will get you killed._ The vision of the wizard coupled with Death refused to leave her, and despite telling herself over and over again that it didn’t have to mean literal death the fear still wouldn’t let go. 

And now she was approaching another streetlamp, this one dimmer than the ones before. Two figures stood beneath it. The first was a young man wearing the rich and colorful clothes that suggested an Amnian noble. There was a blue doublet decorated with embroidered pink roses, blue silken hose, and on his head, he wore a wide-brimmed hat with a long pink plume that bobbed whenever he moved. From beneath it, reddish-golden curls fell almost all the way to his shoulders. He had an innocent and almost femininely pretty face, but there was a clear trace of arrogance in the way he carried himself. In his hand he carried a golden cup, lazily swirling it around. _The page of Cups. I have no idea who or what that’s supposed to be._

Next to the youth stood Death, once again represented by a tall skeleton in a midnight-black robe. The creature was silently watching the Page, who seemed unaware of his presence. 

“There you are!” the Page of Cups said in a peevish voice as he noticed the approaching bard. “Whatever took you so long? I have been waiting for ages, and there are many more important things that I could be out doing.”

“Who are you?” Zaerini asked. “Have I met you?”

The youth shook his head. “No. But we soon will. You really should hurry though, I have already been waiting far longer than I should, and I don’t know how much longer I have. It’s so unfair, after all I’ve…”

“Hold on a moment,” Rini said, raking her fingers through her hair. “Will you be a friend or not? And where will I meet you? And why is it so important?” 

“I…suppose I will be a friend. Eventually.” The Page giggled. “You won’t like me much at first, actually. But it’s very important that we learn to get along, for both of us. Eventually, that will help us both get that which we desire most in the world. And you won’t have any problem finding me. It’ll be avoiding me that’ll be the problem…” Turning away, the Page suddenly spotted the silent figure of Death. As he did, his face lit up in a happy smile, very surprising upon seeing such a grim vision. Death said nothing, but silently spread out his arms, and the Page stepped into them, still smiling, embracing the skeletal figure warmly. As he did, Death’s back was towards Zaerini, and she noticed something odd. It was as if the skeleton was gaining in size, filling out, so that there was now a living, breathing creature beneath the black robe, an actual person. She couldn’t see the face, but there was something about the posture, something that seemed oddly…familiar. It was immensely annoying that she couldn’t put her finger on it, she felt that she should somehow know who it was. She could almost feel the memory trying to scratch and claw its way to the surface of her thoughts, but then the Page and Death disappeared into the shadows, and the knowledge left her once again. 

Sighing, Rini started out towards the next light. There weren’t that many Cards left now, but she knew that the remaining ones weren’t likely to be pleasant, far from it in fact. But there was nothing to be done about it. She knew from previous experience that she had to go all the way through the Reading, no matter how unpleasant it might be, and that was what she intended to do. 

And the water on the street was rising, something that was starting to worry her. As she walked between the rows of towering dark houses, she could feel it sloshing around her ankles. At least it wasn’t as cold as it had been before, it was lukewarm by now. _But I still don’t like it. No, I don’t like it at all._

At the next streetlamp, somebody was standing, watching. Waiting patiently for her. She knew exactly who it was, and though she feared to draw nearer, she felt compelled to do so just the same. _The Knight of Swords. Sarevok._ Her brother was as she remembered him, and much as she had seen him in that dream she’d had about Imoen. But there he had been a cold statue, made of stone, and here he looked very much alive. _How can this be? How can he show up in the Reading when I know he is dead?_ The large man was still wearing his hideous spiked armor, and he was standing with his legs a little apart, arms the size of small tree trunks crossed over his massive chest. His sword was sheathed though, which was a little surprising. Beneath the horned helmet, Rini could just make out her brother’s face. Regular features, strong and imposing. Tan skin, a firm mouth curled in just the tiniest hint of a smile. And the eyes, the blazing golden eyes. Very much like her own, but fiercer. 

“Little sister,” Sarevok said in that deep voice that she remembered so well, and that seemed to resonate in her very bones. “We meet again.” 

“Big brother,” the half-elf said. “It is…good to see you.” She realized with some surprise that she really meant that. Yes, he had tried to kill her, and he had killed Gorion, and yes, she had killed him. But the hate she had felt had cooled before he died, as she had learned more of him and of what bound them together. At the end, he had died, not because she willed it, but because the voice of their common sire had driven him to it. And there had always been that certain connection between them, something that she couldn’t quite define, but that she knew was there, as certainly as she knew the beat of her own heart. “Why are you here?” she asked. “You are dead.” 

Annoyance flickered through the fiery eyes. “I know that,” Sarevok said. “It’s not the sort of thing you forget easily. But you are ignorant if you think that death means the end of everything. I am dead, but I still exist – elsewhere.” 

“All right. But even if you do, you are no longer in this world. How is it that the Reading seems to imply that you are part of my future? I don’t see how that could be.” A nasty thought struck her. “Are you here to kill me? Is that what this is all about? Because if it is, I really don’t think it’ll work since I’m not really here. Well, I’m here, but I’m not ‘here’ here.” 

“Sister…” Sarevok growled. “Stop chattering. I may be dead, but that does not mean I wish to waste an eternity until you have to finally draw breath.” 

“Oh. Sorry. What do you want then?” 

Sarevok took a step closer, and she had to steel herself in order not to recoil. He’s so big…he could probably break me in two using one hand. 

“Freedom,” Sarevok said without hesitation. 

“Freedom? I don’t understand.” 

Her brother didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached out an enormous mailed hand, carefully grasping her own. One finger traced a cold path along one scar that ran from her wrist down towards the elbow. She vaguely remembered the pain, the coldness of the blade slicing neatly through skin and muscle, blood vessels and tendons. “May I?” Sarevok asked. 

For a moment, instinct told her to refuse. This was touch…a dangerous touch, one that brought back too many bad memories. _But…I don’t think he would hurt me. He might kill me, but not hurt me. Not like Irenicus. And…not like Reiltar._ She nodded mutely, and her brother went on examining the scar, gently following it along the soft inner flesh of her arm. 

“You were mistreated, little sister,” Sarevok said, and now there was anger simmering beneath the surface of that dark voice. He was frowning, and the fires of his eyes had grown a little brighter yet. “Grievously mistreated. The Shattered One had no right to do so, and he will be made to pay for it. The Children of Bhaal will not be stopped, not those of us who were born to conquer, and we are not to be caged. It is an outrage, but it will eventually lead you to me, at least.” 

“Lead me to you? But you’re dead!” 

“I know I am dead! Stop interrupting me!” The words came out like the growl of a wild beast, and Rini tried to pull away, her heart in her mouth. But Sarevok was holding her arm tightly, and she couldn’t get away, couldn’t get free. As she struggled, helpless like a kitten beneath the paw of a large dog, she fought hard not to sob. 

Then, something changed. The anger faded from Sarevok’s face, and he looked confused instead, then troubled as he let go of her. “Sister…” he said. “There is much you don’t understand, and much I don’t understand as well. But I do know this.” He put her hands on her shoulders, a steadying gesture. “The one you name Irenicus will send you to me, and we will be as we were meant to be. I will be awaiting you.”

“Sarevok?” Rini asked, craning her head backwards so that she could look up into her brother’s face. He was standing very close to her now, their bodies almost touching. “Are you saying that Irenicus will kill me?” 

At first it seemed that Sarevok would not answer, but then he spoke again. “Your soul will descend into darkness, my sister, much as mine did. Your journey will not be the same as mine, but yes. If you would live, then you must first die.” 

“But…” 

Her brother’s fingers squeezed her shoulders even as he started fading away, the startlingly golden eyes the last part of him to disappear. “Remember…” the whisper of his voice spoke from the shadows. “I am waiting for you.” 

Zaerini stood still for a short while, listening to her own rapid breathing. _Die. I’m going to die. Irenicus is going to kill me, isn’t he? What else could it mean, if I’m going to wind up in the same place as Sarevok once again? And I saw his body…what happened to it. It just dissolved into dust. If I die, that will happen to me too, so how could I possibly live afterwards like he said? I just don’t understand! But I know that I don’t want to die. Gorion, I don’t want to die._ Then she thought of something else. _But even if it does mean that I’m going to die, I can’t leave Immy to rot. I have to go after her, no matter what. Even if it kills me. I have to. And speaking of that, right now I have to go on._

She willed her legs to move, forced herself to take a step forward along the dark street, and then another one. It was slow going. The water was still rising, and by now it was up to mid-thigh level, and had grown even warmer, almost body temperature. And worse than that, she knew which Card awaited her at the other end of the street. The Void. The street ended in empty blackness, and as she came closer, she could hear it whispering to her, whispering in a quiet, chill voice. 

“So, it has come to this,” Irenicus’ voice spoke out of the darkness. _The Void. He is one with it, as empty as it is._ “You are resourceful, but you know the truth in your heart. At the end of the road, I will be awaiting you.” 

The terror was still strong, but now anger flared, heating her blood. “I will come anyway! I will have Imoen back, and then I will kill you!” 

“Ignorant child. You cannot possibly kill me. What I was died a long time ago, what I am holds the power to destroy you, and what I will be, will be as far above you as you are above an ant.” 

The anger was burning even hotter now, a welcome shield against the cold of dread. “So you say. But ants sting.” A ball of fire, as large as a horse, shot out from her outstretched palm, hitting the darkness in front of her with a hiss and a loud bang. There was a noise of annoyance, quickly checked. 

“You are proceeding exactly as I have planned,” that cold voice said again. “Grow stronger. Hone your powers to perfection. They will serve me all the better when the time comes.” 

“I will never serve you, or anybody else! Not you, not Bhaal, not the Queen of the Mad Bunnies. Nobody. Got it?” 

“But you will. You cannot hope to do otherwise. Your very nature will be the downfall of you and all those that you care about. Observe.” Light flared all around. It wasn’t enough to penetrate the darkness in front of her, but it starkly illuminated the street where she was standing. And she saw, saw that what she had taken for rainwater was blood, dark and thick, hot as it lapped against her legs. “You are a Child of Murder,” Irenicus spoke from the Void. “Some of your companions have already been affected by Murder, thanks to their association with you. In time, they all will be, as you draw it to you, you know this.” 

“No! I won’t let you hurt them!” 

“I do not have to do so, silly girl. It will happen anyway. Murder and murderers flock towards you, drawn like bees to honey. And anybody who comes within the circle of your divine power is possible prey to that power. You may as well accept it. And then, you will come to me, and I will grant you rest, as nobody else can. You will not have a care in the world…” 

“NO!” But even as she protested, part of Zaerini’s soul knew that her enemy had spoken the truth.


	26. The Lonely Hearts Of Mages

**Cards Reshuffled 26 – The Lonely Hearts Of Mages**

_It is odd, we may look at the person on the other side of the street and think that we couldn’t possibly have anything in common with that creature, no chance. And yet, if we could read their minds, perhaps we would learn that they have much the same hopes and fears that we do, and perhaps we would understand each other far better than we had thought to start with. Or perhaps we’d just consider the other one completely insane._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Edwin watched as Zaerini slipped into that strange trance that always overcame her whenever she did a Reading, trying not to show his nervousness openly. No matter that he had seen it before, every time he feared that she might not come back to him, that her soul would be lost somewhere in the darkness, unable to find its way back. Or perhaps even worse, that something else might infest her body and come back instead of her. _It is useful to know the future, but never at that cost. Without her, there is no future._

The half-elf’s eyes were closed, but the eyelids were twitching as she watched something that only she could see. Now and then her lips moved, but if she spoke it was in too quiet a voice for anybody else to hear. Her hands were spread out on the table, fingertips resting lightly against the cards, still for once. When she was awake, they would be in constant motion, gesticulating eagerly, picking pockets with a touch as light as that of a butterfly, fiddling with her hair, gracefully weaving magic. He knew them well in every possible pose. _And their touch. Her touch that burns like gentle fire._ But right now those slender hands were still, something that made them look oddly vulnerable. _She will come back to me_ , Edwin thought. _She has to. I lost her once, I will not lose her again. Never again._

Jaheira had positioned herself next to the younger woman and was watching her carefully, ready to intervene in case it should be necessary. Edwin sincerely doubted that anything she could do would make any difference though. The druid wasn’t a bad healer, despite her annoying personality and tendency to interfere, but this would be beyond her, particularly now that she was unwell herself. _And certainly beyond that accursed Helmite. If he doesn’t stop fawning over my Hellkitten soon I will…_

But what could he do? As tempted as he was to kill Anomen, he knew that Zaerini wouldn’t forgive him for it, particularly if she had any feelings for the other man. _I wish I could kill him though. I’d like to reduce him to a small puddle of molten flesh for daring to try to steal her from me. And then I’d disintegrate the remnants and bury the resulting dust seven feet underground, and heap rocks on top. And put up some warning signs. ‘Warning – Angry Tarrasque’ ought to be enough to keep anybody from trying to resurrect the pompous fool. Pity about the resulting contamination of the ground, but it’s a small price to pay._

The fact that Anomen was watching Zaerini intently, never taking his eyes off her face, didn’t make Edwin one bit happier. _At least I managed to secure a chair next to her._ Minsc was standing right behind Zaerini’s chair, presumably guarding against possible attacks. _A Rashemite berserker. I cannot believe I’m traveling with a Rashemite berserker, not to mention his stupid hamster. Why did she have to go and promise to be his witch? Now we’ll never be rid of him. Well, at least the real Wychlaran managed to go and get herself killed, and good riddance. But still, if Teacher Dekaras finds out, he won’t be happy at all…_

Then the unpleasant thought came to Edwin that if he ever were to see his mentor again, something that seemed a very remote possibility, then Minsc would be the least of his worries. _How can I possibly explain to him why I acted as I did? He…he might even hate me for it, and I couldn’t blame him._ Unconsciously he reached for the amulet hanging around his throat, stroking it. _But…no matter if he wants to kill me for tricking him, I still miss him. I miss him so much. I bet he would be able to get rid of Anomen for me. Or at least give me some good advice. I bet he would never have to put up with somebody trying to steal the one woman he ever cared for away from him._

Edwin’s reverie was suddenly interrupted as Zaerini jerked violently, her eyes suddenly startlingly wide and open. “No!” she shouted, and then looked about herself wildly, as if searching for something. Then she grabbed hold of Edwin’s robe, clinging desperately to him as she stared into his face. 

“What is it?” the wizard asked, trying to sound calm though his heart fluttered as he held onto her. “What is wrong?” 

“I…I thought you were dead.” The half-elf was shivering as she slowly eased herself back onto her own chair. Softpaws delicately navigated her way past the spread-out cards on the table, then jumped onto her Mistress’ lap, and Zaerini stroked her gently, making Edwin wish that he could have been in the cat’s position. “I thought you were dead. Or going to die, I’m not sure anymore.” 

“Child,” Jaheira said in a mild voice. “You are safe here. Do you need to rest some? Or can you tell us what you saw?”

The bard straightened up a little, clearly trying to regain control of herself. “I don’t have the time to rest. We need to break your curse, and I got at least a few clues that may help us do it.” She sighed loudly. “Not that I understand very much of what I saw. I won’t speak of it all at this time, only of what seems relevant at the moment.” She then went on to describe the Four of Coins and One of Cups, Rage, The Harp and Justice Inverted, The Archmage and Death, The Page of Cups and Death. “Of the final two cards I will say no more right now,” she said, and a haunted look crept into her golden eyes. “Let us think of the others instead. The Four of Coins ‘came to Ployer from Ployer’, Ployer ‘sleeps against his bosom every night’ and as for the Ace of Cups, ‘it has gone sour, the cup is empty, but it is still there’. Both the cards claimed that they would lead me to Ployer.” 

Anomen frowned. “This man Ployer…was he a drunkard by any chance, Lady Jaheira?” he asked. “I…have seen such base behavior before, in one ravaged by drink.”

Edwin gave him a curious look. The cleric sounded as if what he was saying held some deeper meaning. _Let’s hope so. If it is something really unpleasant, perhaps it will help give me the upper hand. Not that I need any aid of course but…but what if she has started to care for him? I was gone for quite some time, and she was hurt, and…and I’ll scoop his eyes out with a spoon if he doesn’t stop giving her those ingratiating puppy eyes soon!_

_Calm yourself, wizard!_ The voice that spoke inside his mind made Edwin startle a little, and as he turned his head he saw Softpaws watching him calmly, green eyes glowing. The cat had spoken to him before, in a time when Zaerini was in great danger, but he knew that she usually didn’t address others than her mistress, and that she had only been communicating with him due to his affinity for magic. 

_Did you hear me?_

_No. I only hear you if you speak to me directly, though it is easier now than before. That other time you needed to speak out loud, remember? Now your mind has grown more powerful, and so you can talk to me directly. A blind mouse could have recognized the look on your face. You must control your temper, or my Kitten will not be pleased with you at all._ The cat wrinkled her nose in an oddly human gesture. _I am on your side, you know. You are a tom, it is natural that you wish to fight and draw blood to win the right to mate, but my Kitten doesn’t quite understand this. So you must not attack the other male, or you may lose her._ Softpaws cocked her head to one side. _You really should get a familiar of your own you know. Then you wouldn’t be this helpless when it comes to mating. But since you haven’t got one, I will help you. I will talk to you later._ Then she closed her eyes and settled down again on Zaerini’s lap to have her tummy rubbed, looking very content. The whole conversation had only lasted a few seconds. 

“Ployer was not a drunkard when I knew him,” Jaheira said. The druid was looking very tired. Her skin was ashen, her eyes sunken into their sockets, her hair listless, and now and then she coughed heavily. “I cannot say what happened to him afterwards of course.” 

“That’s true,” Jan agreed. “People do change. Why, my cousin George once tried to change himself into a female. He always was a bit different, old George, but he looked very fetching in a dress.” 

“Did it work?” Zaerini asked. 

“Yes and no. You see, he didn’t become a female gnome, he became a female griffin, and then none of his dresses would fit him any longer, something that made him very upset. He tried to blame it on the manufacturers changing the sizes and ate two seamstresses before the third one stabbed him to death with a darning needle. Brave lass that, and she made a lovely boa out of his wing feathers. So instead of enjoying high fashion George became it, you might say.” 

“Enough!” Edwin snapped. “Stop your annoying chatter before we all die of old age. (I wonder if his tongue would run on its own if it was removed from his head? It is a very tempting thought…)” 

“Why Eddie, dear boy! I think you would look quite charming in a boa, something in red naturally…” 

“That’ll do,” Zaerini said. “Now, I have an idea of my own. The Four of Coins implies money, more specifically an inheritance, or a gift. A will, perhaps. And Amnians like to have such things properly documented. Anomen, you would know. Would it be possible for us to track down Ployer’s holdings, or what remains of them, and see if he ever received any important inheritance?” 

“Certainly!” Anomen said, smiling. “And may I say that it was very clever of you to think of it, my Lady!” 

_No, you may not. And stop grinning at her like a stunned donkey._

“All right,” Zaerini said, smiling back at the cleric. “It seems another trip to the Government District is in order then. As for the Ace of Cups, it means ‘plenty’ or something ‘bountiful’. It is a good card, one of pleasure. But it could also be something more literal. We’ll have to keep our eyes open. Now, about the rest of the Reading…Jaheira, the Harp coupled with Inverted Justice is a bad sign. What do you know of the Harpers of Athkatla?”

“Belgrade was the one I knew best,” Jaheira said, “and it has been long since I had contact with any of them, but they were good people, some of them good friends. I had planned to make contact with them, to see if they could help us, but now I do not know where they may be found, not with Belgrade dead.” 

“That may be for the best. I trust _you_ , but I don’t trust them, and now less than ever. The Rage card and the Page of Cups are both people we should look out for apparently and try to get on our side. I’d like you all to let me know if you see somebody you think might fit the bill.” Then the bard turned to Edwin, and he felt his mouth go dry as her eyes met his. “Eddie…you will be careful, won’t you? Death may not mean literally death, but I know you too well not to worry. I…don’t want you to get hurt because of me.” 

_She cares! She really does care! Ha, wallow in envy, Helmite! Look, he’s practically green in the face already._ “Of course I will be careful,” he said in as sincere a voice as he could muster, taking the half-elf’s hand in his, something that he was pleased to notice made Anomen literally grind his teeth. “I am always careful, as any truly Great Wizard should be, and at any rate my earth-shattering magical prowess and razor-sharp intellect would see me through any troubles. But I think you are worrying needlessly. You said yourself that Death also means transformation to a higher stage, didn’t you? Clearly, I am about to reach even more lofty pinnacles of power than before, and I have a feeling I know just how to go about it.” _The Nether Scroll! It has to be it! I will find it at last and bedazzle her with my skill! And if I am correct about it, it will also lengthen my natural lifespan. I will not have to grow old and feeble, my unparalleled body will remain young and eager forever, enabling her to enjoy it._

Zaerini didn’t seem exactly calmed by these words. “I hope you are right,” she said. “Because if you aren’t, and you go do something foolish to get yourself killed, I’ll…I’ll kill you myself, so there!” Then she got up from the table. “Apart from looking for Ployer’s paper trail, we should also search the slums, talk to people, see if anybody has seen the man. We’ll split into groups again, I think.” 

“I will come with you,” Edwin said, and was very displeased to notice that Anomen spoke up at the same time with the same suggestion. 

“No, this time Jaheira and Minsc will go with me, I think. You two and Jan will check out the slums together.”

“Jan?” Edwin protested. 

“The gnome?” Anomen agreed. “But my lady, surely I would be better…”

“No,” Zaerini said in a flinty voice. “I want every member of this group to be able to work with every other member. You two boys will go with Jan, like I told you. And if you see Ployer, don’t attack him before the rest of us get there. Just trail him to his hideout and send word. Everybody got it?” 

“Minsc is happy that he will get to go with his witch this time!” Minsc beamed. “No evil little paper carrying men will harm her with Minsc and Boo around, no sir!” 

“It is well,” Jaheira agreed. 

Both Edwin and Anomen nodded silently, neither of them looking particularly pleased. 

“Oh, this will be fun, won’t it!” Jan said with a twisted grin. “The three of us, out on an adventure together…we’ll have lots of stories to tell afterwards I’m sure.” 

_Yes_ , Edwin thought. _I’m very much afraid of it._

_-*-_

_Elsewhere…_

The rabbits were unusually silent today. Normally they would seize the opportunity to scream into his ears when he wasn’t paying attention, in order to startle him like the evil little beasts they were. But today they were nothing more than a quiet buzz in the farthest reaches of his mind. Perhaps the Others had eaten them, but it would likely be foolish to hope so. In all the multiverse, there was no force powerful and evil enough to stand against the rabbits, and he knew this perfectly well. Wasn’t it they who gave him the headaches after all, the really bad ones? Bad, bad headaches. That was what his family had always used to call it, afterwards. After he first heard the call of the Bunnies. Whenever he…did something…that was what they’d say. Oh, he just gets these troublesome headaches, that is all. And since they were after all wealthy and powerful, as well as equipped with an old and noble family name, the excuse was accepted, at least publicly.

But today the rabbits were silent, only hissing quietly now and then, evil eyes glinting from the clouds, the drainpipes, and the blank eyes of watching beggars. _If I tore them out, would the rabbits go away? No, probably not._ The rabbits were cunning creatures, they would likely escape. Anyway, he could put up with them today, just barely. Sometimes his thoughts were like the sparkling shards of a smashed vase, whirling everywhere, but today they were gathered together in the form of the original vessel, though some were missing, and the others were spinning in tiny orbits around each other. He could do that, when he really had to, pull the shards together. It hurt terribly, like tiny knives slicing through his brain, but he could do it. 

“I guess this time I really do have a headache!” he said in a bright, brittle voice. 

“Eh?” his companion asked, frowning. “What are ye babbling about now, wizard?” 

Smiling fondly at his small friend the mage pushed his unkempt brown hair out of his eyes and bent down, whispering conspiratorially. “Can you hear them, Monty?” he asked. “Can you hear the RABBITS?” 

The halfling sighed loudly. He was a rather unsavory character, with flat eyes and a grumpy face, and the air of somebody who would gladly kill you if you so much as looked at him funny. Considering that, it was rather amazing that he managed to put up with his partner, whose looks shot far past ‘funny’ and way out into the bizarre landscape of ‘raving mad’. “No,” he said. 

“That’s what’s so funny…because NEITHER CAN I! What do you suppose it all means, Monty? Will we be turned into flying little pixies by nightfall, or be showered with gold by eager octopuses, or maybe get to speak with the God of Halitosis himself?” 

“There ain’t no such thing as a ‘God of Halitosis’,” the halfling, whose name was Montaron, grumbled. “Lest it be yer stinky friend there.” 

“Now, now, Monty, don’t be mean to Abduh. It’s not his fault that he can’t brush his teeth regularly.” 

“Urrrrrgh!” the third member of the group agreed. He couldn’t speak much more coherently than that, since half his face was missing, including a large portion of his jaw and tongue. The gaping hole in his forehead probably didn’t help either. Then again, he hadn’t been exactly the epitome of wit while he was alive either. As he pushed his way through the crowds of the Athkatlan docks, most people rapidly got out of his way, even hardened thieves and killers. This could have been due to the fact that he towered over most people and had the muscles to match, or perhaps due to the way he glowered at everybody with his remaining eye. Most likely it was because of the penetrating smell of rot and embalming fluid though. The zombie named Abduh tended to make very lasting olfactory impressions on everybody who passed within a square mile of him. 

“Ah, yer utterly hopeless, doting on that smelly thing like ye do. He can’t even be taught to not hump people’s legs in public. Have ye any idea how embarrassed I was when he did that to that priest of Cyric, howling all the while? And they couldn’t even manage to stick the leg back on again; it was worn down to the bone. And the priest had bled to death in the meantime. No wonder we got stuck with this lousy mission spying on lousy Harpers in lousy, stinking Athkatla. We had it made, Xzar! Once Sarevok was dead we could have been stinkin’ rich and showered with glory, if yer pet hadn’t decided to spoil it all by assaulting the boss’ favorite preacher. Bugger it all, we’re lucky he didn’t pack us off to stinking Icewind Dale!” 

“Oh, hush,” the wizard named Xzar replied in an airy voice. “Abduh is a very intelligent boy. Didn’t you see how smartly he fetched sticks for me when I threw them earlier today?” 

“Urrrrgh!” Abduh enthusiastically agreed, panting eagerly. 

“Aye, I saw. Right up to the point where he threw himself in the harbor after one. Pity he didn’t get left down there.”

“Those fishermen were very nice about it all, weren’t they? Despite Abduh tearing up their net.”

“Petrified, I’d say. That zombie is meaner and uglier than even a slimy hagfish, and that’s sayin’ a lot.” 

“URRRRRGHHHH!”

“Don’t mind him, Abduh,” Xzar said, patting the zombie encouragingly on a muscular arm. “He’s just jealous because he can’t tear off people’s limbs and beat them to death with them. You know you’re Daddy’s Good Boy, don’t you?” 

“Urrrrrrgh!” the zombie cooed, rubbing himself against the tattooed necromancer, the sight of which caused Montaron to make a highly disgusted face. 

“Well, we’re here,” the halfing thief eventually said, as the Terrible Trio stopped a short distance away from a large and rather tasteless orange stone building. “Wish me luck. And if this mad scheme gets me killed, I’ll haunt ye forever, ye hear that?” 

“Good luck, Monty! Abduh, wish Montaron good luck.”

“Urrrgh!” Abduh obediently said, picking up the struggling halfling. 

“Hey!” Montaron protested. “What the…stop hugging me! With yer smell all over me those Harpers will spot me in seconds!”

“Urrrrgh?”

“Ah, just put me down, ye daft thing. Now what are ye…no! DON’T KISS ME! NOOOOOO!” 

Smack. 

Five minutes later Montaron had finally stopped retching and staggered off towards the far side of the Athkatlan Harper Stronghold, grumbling all the way. 

Xzar’s grip on the passage of time was unsteady even under the best of circumstances, but when the sun had set and Montaron hadn’t returned yet he began to wonder. And when the sky was completely dark and there still was no sign of the halfling, he was seriously worried. “Abduh?” he asked, clutching the zombie’s hand while tears started rising in his eyes. “What if…what if Monty is lost? What if…what if the Rabbits have caught him? What will I do without him? You know I can’t manage without Monty.”

Abduh whined quietly, an oddly mousy sound coming from such a large zombie. 

Xzar felt very much like joining in, but he couldn’t. He had to…to do something. He had to hold the cracked shards of his mind together for now, and somehow save Montaron from the Evil Rabbits, or possibly the pink little demons or the ones with faces all over their bodies, whichever had taken him. So, he had to gather the shards together, and push them into shape, and he thought he could do it, at least for a little while. But it hurt. Oh, how it hurt. Feeling more lost and confused than he had in a long time, as he edged dangerously closer to sanity, Xzar hugged his pet zombie tightly as a lonely tear trickled down his tattooed cheek. 

As it happened, Xzar the Necromancer wasn’t the only one to feel alone and afraid on this night. In the room she had rented at the Mithrest Inn, Nalia De’Arnise sat on her bed, her arms clutching her legs tightly, as she stared out into the empty darkness. It was all going wrong, everything. _I thought it was going to be so easy. Just run off to Athkatla, find some heroic adventurers, dash back home and rescue Father and Auntie and the others. And then they’d all thank me, and even Auntie would admit that I’d done something worthwhile. But…it’s not going to happen that way, is it? Why won’t anyone help me? After everything I’ve done for the commoners, you’d think they’d be grateful, wouldn’t you? Aren’t people supposed to be grateful when you do everything you can to improve their lot in life? I just don’t understand it._

The invasion of Keep De’Arnise had been swift and terrible, and she still had nightmares about it. _Those ugly, beastly trolls…and then those other things, the snake creatures. Where could they have come from? Surely somebody must have put them up to it, I never heard of trolls doing such a thing on their own. But who? Who could hate us that much? Auntie may be a little…overbearing…but Father is a good Lord, everybody knows that. He is fair and just and always tries to do the right thing, and everybody loves him. Don’t they?_

The young mage absent-mindedly nibbled on a lock of her golden-red hair, frowning. The trolls had come during the night, and it had been apparent from the start that they had the Keep surrounded. There was no way the castle guards could face the entire opposing army, and it was unclear how long they could withstand the siege. True, the Keep had plenty of supplies, and its walls were strong, but its defenders were far fewer than the trolls, and the loss of even a single man would impact the defenders. Without help, Keep De’Arnise would surely fall soon. But if somebody managed to get past the enemy lines, somebody who was better at sneaking about and opening locks than her Father would approve of, and much more familiar with the lower elements of Athkatla than her Auntie would ever tolerate, then perhaps help might still come in time. _Father…I’m so sorry. I wish I could have said good-bye, but you would never have allowed me to go. But it was the right thing to do, and you always told me how important it was to do the right thing, especially for a Lord. I remember that I asked you why, and you said that a Lord could do both much more good and much more evil than a common person, and that meant that you had to think very carefully about everything you did and how it would affect those dependent on you. That if you didn’t do good with the power you had, you didn’t deserve to have it. And now it’s my turn to do the right thing. I hope you’ll understand that, even if Auntie never will._

So far things weren’t going exactly as planned though. She had managed to slip out of the Keep through the old secret passage she had known of since childhood, fortunately without alerting any of the troll sentries, though it had been close a couple of times. Then she had walked all the way to Athkatla. That had certainly been a novel and not too pleasant experience, but there had been no way to sneak out Myrrel, her dear pet stallion, along with her. Named after Myrrel the Mighty, a bandit of old folk songs, famous for frequently stealing from the wealthy nobles and quite possibly distributing part of the loot to poor people occasionally, the swift horse would have taken her to Athkatla much faster. _I’ve wasted too much time already! Why, oh why won’t anybody help me?_

She had thought it would be so simple. Just pop into the Copper Coronet, inform everybody that she was in need of assistance and wait for the queue of eager heroes to line up. Instead she had found herself greeted with very rude proposals and outright insults and forced to fend off the advances of a very annoying elf named Salvanas. The lack of eager heroes was becoming very worrying indeed. _Are there no good and noble people who will help a person in need? No heroes whatsoever in the world?_

She had applied for aid at the Order of the Most Radiant Heart, certain that the paladins would help her, but had been told that though it was a worthwhile cause, it would take time before help could be sent, since a great part of the knights were already out on various missions. _Father doesn’t have time! He needs help now!_

In her desperation she had even momentarily considered seeking out the man she had privately named ‘The Slime’. Isaea Roenall, her so-called ‘betrothed’. If the Roenalls wanted her money and title as badly as they apparently did, surely they would help? And yet…something had held her back. She couldn’t say what it was, perhaps only that she didn’t want the Roenalls to get within ten miles of Keep De’Arnise. _And it’s not as if I’m really his betrothed. Just because my mother was friends with his mother while they were both alive doesn’t mean I can be forced to marry somebody who treats his servants like slaves and has eyes like a dead fish. I don’t care how much Auntie Delcia goes on about what an ancient family he comes from, I still won’t do it. And Father agrees with me, he’ll not let the Roenalls nag him into it. Father…oh please, let him be safe. Let them all be safe. I…I just want to help them, before it’s too late. Why won’t anybody help me?_

She would have to try her hand at the Copper Coronet again, Salvanas or not. _Please, Father. Just hold on a little longer. I can do this, I’ll manage to save you somehow. Please hold on. Please…_

And in the darkness and solitude of her bedchamber, with no need to keep up appearances, Nalia De’Arnise hugged her pillow close to her chest and wept.


	27. Witch Hunt

**Cards Reshuffled 27 – Witch Hunt**

_When your party members fight between themselves, it is occasionally a good idea to forcibly make them cooperate. If it works, it usually works great. Of course, you run the risk of them winding up killing each other. Or of them destroying the world as we know it, in my case._

_Excerpt from Ruminations Of A Master Bard_

It was very good to finally have a Witch again, Minsc thought. It filled an empty space within him, the Witch space, and made him feel like he did when he had a pleasantly full belly and was getting ready for sleep, except not sleepy. He was supposed to have a Witch, and it had been very worrying to have to do without one, even if Boo had of course always been there to tell him what to do. 

The large ranger smiled happily as he watched his new Witch pouring through some old dusty papers that were apparently very important. Minsc wasn’t sure why, but he wasn’t about to question what his Witch told him even if he couldn’t understand it all. Zaerini had said that finding the right papers would help them find the Evil Man who had made poor Jaheira look so sick, and that was good enough for Minsc. If this had been the forests of Rasheman, he knew that he could have tracked the Evil Man across barren rocks or icy fields, or over deep rivers, even without the aid of Boo’s keen hamster nose, but this was not Rasheman. If tracking was done with papers here, then that was how it was, and he would leave it to those who understood such things. 

So that was why they were in this place, the great Hall of Records in the Government District of Athkatla. The building was a sprawling marble monstrosity, filled with lots and lots and lots of papers, and lots and lots and lots of nervous little people. The nervous little people hadn’t wanted to let Minsc’s Witch see the many papers at first, but after Minsc had got angry with them they had changed their minds, which was a good thing. 

Zaerini was sitting at a large table, absentmindedly twirling a lock of her red hair around her finger as she read, and Jaheira was opposite her, hunched down over a large and moldy old tome. The druid had a nasty cough now, and now and then Minsc could see his Witch giving the other woman a worried look. Minsc was worried too. He didn’t like seeing people sick or hurt, even Evil people he tried to kill quickly, and Boo had told him that Jaheira wasn’t getting better, but worse. At first, he didn’t understand why she couldn’t make herself better like she always did, but Boo had explained that it was a magic sickness, and that the Evil man was the one who had caused it. That had made Minsc very angry, but the Evil man wasn’t here right now to get the butt-kicking he deserved, and so Minsc had to try to control himself, something that always made his head hurt, almost as badly as his old head wound. He hoped that his Witch would pick up this paper track soon, so they could do something where he could help better. But she was very smart, so he thought she would probably do it soon. 

This made Minsc compare his current Witch with his previous one. Dynaheir had been smart too, but apart from that they were very different. Dynaheir was usually calm, and careful about how things ought to be done, and very proper. And she had never really learnt to appreciate Boo’s greatness, something that had always saddened Minsc. Zaerini was hardly ever calm, and didn’t care at all about what was proper, and always did things her own way, which was a confusing change, but not a bad one, since they were still doing Good, and that was what was important. And Zaerini did like Boo and didn’t think he was at all ‘unhygienic’ whatever that meant. Minsc was a little bit worried about the pretty little cat that always followed his new Witch about though. He knew that cats liked to eat rodents, and he wouldn’t want Boo to hurt his Witch’s cat. 

Yes, little Rini was going to be a Good Witch, Minsc decided. True, she had refused his suggestion of Bursting The Eardrums Of Evil With The Heroic Songs Of Goodness, saying that she wouldn’t want to strain her voice, but she cared about her friends and did many nice things, more than she pretended to. That was what was important. It was a shame she also wanted to be friends with the Evil Wizard though. 

Minsc frowned a little as he tried to puzzle through this. Dynaheir had been very clear on the subject of the Evil Wizards, and it confused him that his new Witch didn’t seem to think like that at all. Quite the opposite in fact. It was confusing, and it was worrying, and he thought that maybe he ought to ask her about it soon. But in the meantime, he would follow his Witch’s lead, as he always did. And he had at least been able to help with one very important thing already today. The little men who took care of all the books in this place hadn’t wanted to let the adventurers inside to check the important books and scrolls that little Rini wanted to see, but once Minsc had carefully explained that they should be happy to help Heroes out to do Good they had soon changed their minds. Minsc was very sorry that he had happened to break that one man’s arm though. He really hadn’t meant to, but sometimes when he got excited, he forgot how strong he really was. He had made certain to say how sorry he was to the man after Jaheira healed him, and he thought the man had forgiven him. All the men who ran this place of books and papers had been very nice and polite afterwards, which was nice. He much preferred to get along with people. 

_Does that mean I should try to get along with the Evil Wizard as well? Dynaheir would not have liked that, but Dynaheir…isn’t here any more._

Minsc felt very sad whenever he thought of Dynaheir, and now he could feel the tears trying to rise in his eyes again. Boo noticed something was wrong, and he could feel the soft hamster fur against his cheek as the little animal cuddled closer to him. _Oh Boo, it was all my fault. I promised to protect her, but I failed. The Really Evil One killed poor Dynaheir and I…could only watch._

Boo squeaked encouragingly into his ear, and Minsc immediately felt a little calmer. “Yes, Boo,” he whispered. “I know. We have a new Witch now, and we will do better this time. Minsc promises. We will keep her safe and not let the Really Evil One get her again and show him terrible Hamster Justice.” 

“Hmmm?” Zaerini said, looking up from her scroll. “Did you say something, Minsc?” 

“Yes. Minsc has been thinking.” 

“Yes? What about?” 

“Minsc knows that not all Witches are the same, and Minsc knows that he must do things like his Witch wants them done, even if it’s strange.” 

The half-elf smiled warmly at him. “Minsc, you’re not my slave. You’re my friend. If you think I’m doing something strange, you have a right to ask me about it, you don’t have to obey me blindly or anything, unless maybe if we’re in a life threatening situation where I don’t have the time to explain.” 

“Little Rini is nice to say so, but Minsc wants to do what his Witch wants. And if she wants him to be nice to the Evil Wizard, he will be, even if his belly churns at the thought of it, and he would rather spank the Evil Wizard ferociously like he deserves for his wickedness.” 

Minsc was very pleased to see that his Witch looked happy at this, her eyes shimmering brightly as they met his. Then she got up from the table and gave him a big hug, and he hugged her back, this time remembering to be careful. “Thank you, Minsc,” Zaerini said. “That is very kind and generous of you, to do that for my sake. I know you and Edwin don’t exactly get along, but I like you both, and it makes me very happy that you want to try. I’ll make certain to make him behave himself as well.” 

“Minsc knows that little Rini is a Great Hero, but he would not ask the impossible.” 

The bard laughed. “I guess you’re right. All right, I’ll _try_ to make him behave himself better. I know your countries are enemies, but we’re all working together here, and right now you’re both far from home, aren’t you? Surely everything doesn’t have to be the same here as it would there?” 

Minsc thought about this. “Rasheman is far away…but once she has your heart, it belongs to her for always.” 

“I know. And I don’t mean you have to forget that or stop loving your country. Learning new things doesn’t mean you have to forget all the old ones, only the ones that no longer make sense.” 

This was a new thought, and a scary one. _Old things no longer make sense? How could that be? Isn’t something either true or false? How could it be true first and then false? But Aerie was like that, Good first and then Evil, so maybe other things could be as well. Boo will have to help figure out which ones._ “Minsc will think more on this,” the ranger says. “But not now, if he thinks too long, he will get another headache.” 

“Like the one I am currently having,” Jaheira muttered. “While you have been discussing philosophy, I have been busy working. Listen to this.” She pointed to a section in the scroll that she had been reading, and Zaerini walked over to interestedly lean across her shoulder. “It is a will,” Jaheira said in a triumphant voice, and then had to break off due to another coughing fit. Once she could breathe again, she went on. “A copy of the will of one ‘Albertina Ployer’, the aunt of Baron Ployer himself. Apparently, she left him one significant piece of property, apart from gold. A tavern, by the name of ‘The One Cup’. There is no address given, but it would not surprise me if we were to find it somewhere within the slums district. And when Ployer lost his fortune, there is no record of him having sold this tavern.” 

“The One Cup,” Zaerini said, grinning with ferocious glee. “That would be the Ace of Cups from my Reading, I’d bet anything on it. And the Four of Coins – the inheritance. ‘I came to Ployer from Ployer’. ‘He sleeps against my bosom every night’. If that’s where the creep is hiding, it all makes perfect sense.” 

“So it does,” Jaheira agreed, and she was looking more pleased than she had since the curse had first struck her. “Of course, we still need to find the place.” 

“Minsc and Boo will find it!” Minsc promised, happy to once again understand something of what was going on. “We will find it, and break it, and SMASH THE EVIL MAN INTO TINY LITTLE EVIL BITS, AND THEN STOMP ON THEM!” 

All over the great reading hall, nervous-looking people tried their best not to attract Minsc’s attention. 

Zaerini was still grinning as she headed for the exit. “Sounds like a working plan to me,” she said. “But first, let’s go see what the boys have found…” 

At that exact moment, far away from Athkatla, a woman with brown braids neatly gathered around her head was sitting serenely on a marble bench in her gardens, pondering the words of the red-haired woman who had once again been to visit her this morning. There was much merit in what the other one said, certainly. Dangerous creatures such as the ones spoken of should not, could not be allowed to exist, to threaten the existence of all. Somebody would have to take steps. 

_And I believe I am called to be that somebody. I must make certain all these abominations are destroyed, like the dangerous pests they are._

The woman’s eyes swept across the perfect, emerald-green lawn. How utterly smooth it was, every blade of grass cut just so, none of them sticking its head up above the others. The ones who had done so had already been carefully introduced to a scythe and a pair of pruning scissors. _And so a ruler must act as well, carefully pruning out the disturbances for the greater good of all. Disobedience leads to disorder, disorder leads to chaos, chaos leads to anarchy, and anarchy leads to death. Thus, disobedience merits death, to protect every innocent soul put at risk from such acts._

The redheaded woman who came to visit had many interesting things to say, yes. But she could not be trusted. The woman in the garden knew this perfectly well, and her own intelligence network was now devoting a large part of its capacity towards finding out the other one’s plans. 

_I do not doubt that she seeks power for herself, and thinks that I do so as well. How little she knows. I do not seek it out, it is my sacred duty, and I will not be swayed from it. I will use her aid for now, but my own influence is growing daily. The time will come when I will stand against her, as I was meant to do, and then the world will be as it should be, for the very first time. Clean, orderly, efficiently run._

A small groundhog suddenly burrowed up out of the pristine lawn, sniffing nervously as it looked around. A small frown appeared between the elegant eyebrows of the woman on the bench, and then she pointed her finger at the animal. There was no squeak, just a small puff of air as dust drifted and scattered where the groundhog had been moments before. _Pests. Always these annoying pests, making nuisances of themselves. They will not be tolerated._

-*- 

Edwin slowly gritted his teeth as he stalked through the narrow, winding and above all extremely dirty streets of the Athkatlan slums. _I’m dead_ , he thought. _I’ve died and gone to Hell, and my eternal punishment is being stuck with that posturing Helmite with a mace stuck up his rear, and that preposterous and annoying gnome._

The odd trio had set out together while Zaerini’s group left for the Government District. Edwin had stared longingly after the red-haired bard, wishing that the day’s working arrangements had been very different, and his mood didn’t improve one bit by noticing that Anomen was doing the same thing. The slack-jawed oaf was practically panting. “You probably want to shut your fat mouth before the drool makes your ugly, clanking metal getup rust,” he had pleasantly and politely informed the cleric as soon as Zaerini was out of hearing distance. “I’m certain your Order of the Most Pompous Farts probably has a few regulation-sized bibs in stock, for their members’ convenience. And nappies as well, I shouldn’t wonder. (I’m sure that persistent armor polish stench is meant as a cover up.)” 

This little piece of helpful and altruistic advice hadn’t gone over very well with Anomen, who had turned a dark red, bordering on purple. “How dare you speak to me such!” he had growled. “I have the highest regard and respect for the lady Zaerini, contrary to you. If you do not cease your foul and soiling glances, implying the darkest and most base of lusts, I shall not hesitate to send you mewling to your grave.” 

“Really, priest? If you do not give up the errant excursions of your ugly, bulging eyes into her cleavage, I will take great pleasure in making you drink a very dry ‘Green Goblin’, containing both your eyes impaled on toothpicks rather than the customary olives.”

At this point, Jan had interfered, sounding extremely amused. “Now, now, Red,” he had said, “I’m sure you wouldn’t know, but a slice of turnip is actually far superior. And Ano, you want to remember to watch that flying spittle, I could have been drowned just now.” 

“Good,” Anomen had muttered, and Edwin had been forced to agree, though he would have died rather than saying so out loud. 

“This ought to be lots of fun, lads!” Jan said, nudging both the cleric and the wizard. “The three of us…alone on the road…facing mortal peril around every corner…and doing some heavy bonding.” He sighed dreamily. “Won’t that be lovely?” 

_I’d like to heavily bond them both. Preferably with a really large and sturdy length of chain, and down at the docks at some spot with really deep water and many crabs to clean up the evidence._

Irritatingly enough, Edwin was forced to realize that Jan knew the labyrinthine slum streets better than he did, or Anomen for that matter, and so the gnome took the point, chattering incessantly. “My,” he was currently saying, “her Worship is one attractive lady, isn’t she? Why, if she were only shorter, I wouldn’t hesitate to court her. But come to think of it, why should I let that stand in the way of True Love? I’m sure the other gnomes will learn to accept her in time. Yes, I’ll definitely have to ask her if she’d like to settle down with me and make our own little Turnip of Joy. She’s still unattached, isn’t she?” The fact that the mage and the priest glowered murderously at him didn’t keep him from continuing. “You two boys can be my marriage witnesses if you like. But remember, I want only the best turnip juice for the wedding dinner, think you can remember that?” 

“This…this is ridiculous!” Anomen sputtered. “The lady would never stoop so low!” 

“Really?” Jan said. “You think? Well, in that case I suppose I’ll have to use a stool…” 

Edwin felt red rage churning in his blood, and when he spoke his voice was a low and deadly hiss. “Continue that sentence and you will find out firsthand what it feels like to have Skull Traps inserted into every possible bodily orifice.” 

“….to reach her hand in order to put the ring on her finger. What did _you_ think I was talking about, Red?” 

After this exchange, the search went on for some time, still fruitlessly. By now they had reached a small market square, encircled by ramshackle old shops with grimy windows. There were some stalls as well, but as far as Edwin could tell the most exciting items being sold were a few rather wrinkly potatoes sold by a fat halfling, and that was only because the mold growing on them looked like it might be harvested and turned into a flesh devouring monster. _And I’d really like to have one of those right about now. A monster that is. Not a potato._

The three men were walking about the marketplace, trying to probe passing people for information about Ployer. Jan was chatting animatedly with everybody he met, probably telling inane stories. Anomen seemed to be demanding that ‘The Villain be given up in the name of the Order’. So far he’d narrowly avoided getting a basket of fish dumped over his head, and he probably hadn’t noticed yet that there was a note stuck to his back that said ‘I forgot my brain at home today’. The cleric was looking proudly at all the smiles that greeted him wherever he went though. 

Edwin sighed quietly, pulling up the hood of his robe to shield himself from the penetrating and glaringly white sunlight. So far, he hadn’t had much success with his investigations. Unbidden, his hand went to the amulet hanging around his throat, as it often did when he felt under pressure. For some reason, touching the smooth surface of the dark red ruby always managed to soothe him a little, like a protective and calming presence. Perhaps it was part of the magic, but he had never been able to figure out exactly how the amulet did work, so he couldn’t say for certain. Whatever the case, it did work, and he was already feeling better. It wasn’t that he was all that concerned about Jaheira, but it was vitally important that he should be the one to find an important clue, not Jan, and certainly not Anomen. _And then my Hellkitten will be extremely impressed, and the priest will be envious. Two very worthy goals._

Pleased with this thought, Edwin approached an elderly woman selling sweets. She was bent to a point where her pointy chin almost hit her knees when she walked, and she had a large and hairy wart on her long nose. The sweets looked nice, though. Some sort of gingerbread. “Greetings, peasant,” he said. “Do you know the whereabouts of an ugly, loutish character by the name of Ployer?” 

The woman’s eyes narrowed a little, and she gave him a considering look. “Maybe I do, dearie. I might tell you – for a price.” 

“And what kind of price would this be? (A cure for that unsightly wart, perhaps. A Cone of Cold ought to fix that.) And stop calling me ‘dearie’.” 

“Why, you’re Thayvian, aren’t you, dearie? And I have heard so many interesting rumors about Thayvian men, I’d like to see if they’re true. So, here is the deal. You come play ‘tickle the kitten’ with me, and if you’re good enough I’ll tell you what I know and add in some of my best gingerbread for good measure.” A pair of bony but strong fingers suddenly pinched the wizard’s rear, making him jump. Worse, he could hear Anomen’s annoying, snide laughter right behind him. 

“It seems you have finally found your ideal match, wizard!” the priest said, snorting with amusement. “I’d say you two were made for each other.” 

“Silence, you idiot!” Edwin snapped, anger and embarrassment fighting for dominion over his emotions. “At least my erotic skills are in demand, unlike yours. You probably wouldn’t even remember to take off your armor first, and if you did you would probably spend the entire time boring the woman in question to tears by reciting the tenets of Helm to her.”

“You dare take the name of my God in your foul mouth? If not for my solemn promise to the Lady Zaerini I would strike you down where you stand!” 

“I dare that and more, Helmite! I dare say your armor isn’t the only thing you constantly polish, since only a blind or insane woman would want to take up with somebody who’d make them want to vomit at the first sight of his flabby body. (And I bet he makes the same pathetic little squeaking noises no matter which thing he is polishing.)” 

“Flabby? FLABBY? I’ll have you know that my body is perfect! I work out daily, unlike you, and every single muscle has achieved its ideal form!” 

“Ha! I have the perfect male body without all that chimp-like grunting and sweating, but that is only to be expected since I am your superior in every way. (Come to think of it, a tapeworm would also be able to claim that.)” 

“No need to fight, boys!” the old woman cackled. “I’m sturdy enough to handle both of you at once! You just look into my eyes and follow me…” 

Edwin suddenly felt a soft, pink mist descending on his mind, and he felt his mouth opening in a sheepish grin as he stared at the lovely creature in front of him. How could he have failed to see that she was the most beautiful and compelling woman in the world? It was incomprehensible. Vaguely, he was aware of Anomen standing next to him, sporting the same stunned look on his face. And then they were walking, following the woman devotedly, and he felt as if he were floating on soft clouds. Already they had gone far enough into the dark maze of narrow streets that he couldn’t possibly have hoped to find his way back on his own, but he was far beyond caring. 

And then, the woman shrieked as a round object struck her in the head, spreading a small cloud of white powder. Then she froze in mid-motion, staring mindlessly at nothing. Edwin suddenly felt as if he had had a pail of icy water thrown over him, as he stared at the old hag, trying to comprehend what had happened. 

“Really, boys,” Jan’s voice said from somewhere behind his back, “haven’t you anything better to do than to fight over the ladies? Couldn’t you take turns or something?” As Edwin turned around, he saw the gnome patting his odd crossbow affectionately. “But,” Jan said, “a good Flasher is a safe cure for the lovestruck, I’ll give you that! This here is Old Mrs Hook. They say she’s a witch, but she does make the tastiest gingerbread, even though she’s very conservative. I never was able to convince her to add turnips. If I’d known you two were that taken with her, I could have introduced you! It’s odd the way the Cowlies never bother her, I think she may have seduced one or two of their bigwigs into leaving her alone.” 

Edwin felt a slow heat rising in his cheeks as he looked at the paralyzed woman. _Taken in by a domination spell like some green apprentice…I’m so lucky Teacher Dekaras wasn’t here to see that. Not to mention Zaerini._

Anomen seemed to have similar thoughts. “Er…” he muttered to Edwin. “Perhaps it would be better if we do not mention this particular little adventure to the Lady Zaerini, wouldn’t you say?” 

“Yes,” the wizard said, nodding fervently. “No need to…make her worry.” 

“Aye. No man of chivalry would…would burden a lady with unnecessary concerns.”

“But boys,” Jan said, his eyes twinkling, “you disappoint me. I was so looking forward to telling her all about this, I think it would make for an excellent and humorous story. If you want me to forget that you’re going to have to make it up to me.” 

“How?” Anomen asked. 

“Well, this fellow I spoke to said that there’s a small tavern somewhere close, known only to its steady customers, and he says that though the food stinks, the turnip beer is excellent! We’ll go try it, your treat, and then we’ll be rested and far more able to find Ployer.” 

“Yes, yes,” Edwin said, feeling very irritated. “Just keep your mouth shut.” 

The trio soon reached the tavern in question, passing through a narrow and almost invisible cellar door. There was a tavern sign out front, but it was so smeared with dirt and grime that it was impossible to see the name of the place. However, beneath all that, and unbeknownst to Edwin, Jan or Anomen, there was a painting of a golden cup, as well as the words: ‘The One Cup’. Had they been able to see this, they would probably have thought twice about walking into the place unprepared.


	28. Uninvited Visitors

**Cards Reshuffled 28 – Uninvited Visitors**

_On the topic of friends, it is also worth noting that there is nobody quite so capable of getting under your skin and annoying you as is your Best Friend. And of course, there is nobody else who would be allowed such outrageous liberties as ridiculous nicknames or jokes about your personal habits._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

“So,” Poppy said. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that I had two kings in the last deal, and two demons, and then I used the Glabrezu and the King of hearts to build myself a Minor Rulership. And you’re wondering if I could possibly have got enough good cards in this deal to build myself something really good, like Triumvirate, or if I’m gonna have to fold. So, I guess the question you really ought to ask yourself is: ‘Do I feel lucky?’” She grinned, eyes twinkling. “Well? Do ya…punk?” 

“Punk?” her opponent said in a lazily insolent voice, raising an eyebrow. “Little one, I believe you forget yourself. It should really be ‘Superior Grand Master of ‘Monarchs and Monsters’.”

The halfling’s grin widened. “Oooh, playing rough, aren’t we? ‘Little one’…the only ‘little’ thing around here will be your ego once I get through with you. You’re gonna be begging me for instruction, just you wait.” 

“Hardly,” Dekaras said, giving his friend a small smirk. He eyed the pile on the table carefully. “I rather think you’re going to be begging _me_ for a chance to win back your losses, since I’m planning to make you utterly bankrupt.” The assassin put a hint of polite helpfulness into his voice. “Unless you’re ready to give up?” 

“Ha! Hardly! I’m buying two more cards and selling one. And I’ll raise you ten.” 

“Very well. I will join you and raise you twenty.” 

“Right then. Time for the showdown, long-shanks.” 

“Any time, little one.” 

Both assassins spread their cards on the table, Poppy with a dramatic flourish, and her companion with considerably more restraint. Then there were a few seconds of silence. 

“Now, correct me if I’m wrong,” Dekaras said, “but I’m pretty sure there shouldn’t be ten Archmages in the deck, nor should there be more than one High Trump.” 

“Guess not, Dekkie,” Poppy said, smiling innocently. “I wonder where they all came from? Probably the same place as those three Backstab cards that seem to have mysteriously popped out of nowhere.” 

“Ah…a sound theory.” The tall assassin gave his friend a humorous look across the table. “I admit I did wonder if you’d cheat as outrageously as you always did that summer when we were twelve and we played this all the time.” 

“’Course I would, Dekkie! That’s the really fun part, seeing which one of us can come up with the wildest cheats. And you’re just as bad as me. I remember that time when you actually _ate_ the Black Death so you wouldn’t have to play it.” 

“What can I say?” Dekaras said with a shrug. “I like winning. Anyway, I would say we’re about even, so let’s split the winnings.” He divided the heap on the table in two equal parts, pushed one half across to his friend and kept the other for himself. “Not that I suffer from an acute lack of toothpicks, but it’s the principle of the thing…” 

The reason for the two assassins entertaining themselves in this fashion was that Kagain the dwarf still hadn’t returned to Beregost, and so Dekaras was stuck there until the mercenary got back to provide him with some clues to Edwin’s whereabouts. He had rented himself a room across the street from where Kagain ran the shop that worked as a front for his mercenary activities and had resigned himself to a dull wait. “You know,” he said, not for the first time. “You don’t really have to do this. I’m sure your niece is expecting you, and it’s not as if I won’t be fine on my own.” 

Poppy snorted loudly, brown pigtails bouncing. “Yeah right, Dekkie!” she said. “Fine like you were when I ran into you? Fine enough to carve your heart to bits with your mind?” She jumped off her chair and crossed the floor, then stopped next to him, leaning against his knee. “Nuh-uh. I’m staying right here, until I’ve made sure that you won’t slip back into brood mood.”

“I wouldn’t do that.” 

“Yes, you would!” The halfling gave him a mildly exasperated look. “You need my company right now, and you know you want it. You’re just being as hopeless as always when it comes to admitting you’re not feeling well or that you can’t handle everything on your own. I’m your Best Friend, you know. It’s not as if I’m gonna get upset or despise you for it, I want to help you out.” 

“I know that,” Dekaras said with a brief sigh. “And you know how much that means. It’s just…difficult.” 

“I know, Dekkie,” Poppy said, and she looked unusually serious. “I know. And that’s exactly why I’m staying around until I’m sure you’ll be fine. I’m not about to let my Best Friend torture himself, you know.” 

Dekaras was just about to reply to this when he found himself rather forcefully interrupted. There was a bright flash of light, and a wailing scream that seemed to be coming from far in the distance but to be rapidly approaching, as from out of a long tunnel. Then there was a loud THUMP and a stranger appeared out of nowhere, landing flat on his back in the middle of the floor. He was a skinny little man with a nervous twitch in his right cheek, and runny red eyes, and his clothes were all crumpled and badly fitting. When he noticed the two assassins watching him, he gave a small scream and twitched even worse than before. For some reason his clothes were giving off thin wisps of smoke. 

Viekang shuddered violently as the remnants of the magical storm passed through him, making him quite nauseous. He didn’t dare hope that this time he would have wound up someplace nice, with kind and understanding women who would fan him with great big feathers and feed him peeled grapes. No, scratch feeding, at least until his stomach settled down some more. He was on a floor, that was good. Once he’d teleported into the middle of the ocean, and another time he’d wound up a few miles up in the air but approaching the ground very quickly. Even worse, that time he’d been too shocked to get scared until he could actually see the treetops rushing towards him. And then there’d been the time with the Red Dragon. And…no. Mustn’t think about that now. Floor was good. And it was staying in place, which was also good. And he was still alive, and in no immediate pain, which was even better. Perhaps this once, just this once, the soothing ladies would be there. Viekang carefully opened his eyes. Then he wished he hadn’t. 

There was a halfling standing over him with a nasty-looking short sword firmly grasped in one plump hand. Her thick brown pigtails with their big red bows created a strangely jolly contrast to the wicked edge of the blade and the hard glint in her big brown eyes. 

Viekang’s gaze traveled upwards, and he found out that the situation was even worse than he had first imagined. There was a tall and sinister-looking fellow dressed all in black standing next to the halfling and pointing a crossbow at the unlucky man on the floor. The fellow’s sharp face was as emotionless as a mask, and he was giving Viekang a cool look along the length of a long and somewhat pointed nose. “You have one minute to explain your presence here,” he said. “I suggest you make the explanation a good one.” Then he smiled, a very unnerving gesture that carried with it the clear impression of fangs, and Viekang couldn’t quite hold back a scream. Perhaps this wasn’t so much better than…than what he had left behind after all. When the halfling tickled him in the ribs with her sword he felt certain that it wasn’t. 

Dekaras had been expecting results, certainly. He normally got those. He hadn’t expected anything quite so dramatic though. The man on the floor screamed loudly, and then he started babbling in a terrified voice. “Please!” he cried out. “Please don’t hurt me, I didn’t mean to come here, it was all an accident, I’ll go away right now if you wish, I just got so scared and when I get scared I can’t help myself, and I’m scared now, very, very scared, oh, why won’t it recharge yet, I need TO GET AWAY!” 

“Get away from what?” Poppy curiously asked. 

“From…from them! They hunted me, they wanted to kill me or worse, but they didn’t know about my power, my curse…” The man got an insane look in his eyes, a curious mix of triumph and desperation. “When I get scared…I get away. But I can’t control it, I don’t know where I’ll go next, and sometimes it’s worse than where I started from…please don’t kill me!” 

“And who are 'they', exactly?” Dekaras said, using the tone of voice he had perfected for using whenever Edwin had been up to some form of mischief. It was a voice that suggested that he didn’t believe a word the other person was saying and was about to get very unpleasant about it unless they reinvented their story within the next few moments. “Liches? Demons? Twisted Rune, perhaps? Or maybe…the Red Wizards?” The fellow on the floor seemed genuinely scared, but it could all be some form of clever ruse, a trap of Thayvian origin. The Red Wizards would be after him as well as Edwin, or else they might try to get to the boy through him, and he certainly wasn’t about to allow that to happen. 

“N-n-no!” Viekang stammered. “None of those, honestly! They were…were…” Suddenly his eyes fixed on something behind the two assassins and bulged with horror. “AAAAAAHHHH!” he screamed. “THEY’VE FOUND ME! THEY’RE HERE!” There was another bright flash of light and a loud bang, and then he was gone, as if he had never been there. 

The two assassins had naturally noticed the look, and they quickly spun around to see a shimmering silvery mist drifting into the room from under the door. It rose and formed into a pillar, and then it coalesced, taking on solid form. 

It looked more or less like a human man, young and handsome. But its skin was a lifeless, papery white, its nails grown into sharp claws, and there was a red and hungry fire in its eyes. It was wearing elegant court clothing, of Amnian fashion, but the rich red velvet suit clashed badly against the sharp teeth that were bared when the creature opened its mouth and hissed. “Where is he?” it asked. “We can smell him still, do not try to hide him from us!” 

“Where is who?” Poppy innocently asked. “We meet so many people, don’t you know.” 

“Yes,” Dekaras said. “It comes with working in a people-oriented profession.” He was watching the vampire cautiously, trying to anticipate an attack. Having fought such beings before, he knew exactly how dangerous they were, and how fast. 

The vampire’s eyes narrowed angrily. “You dare question me, carrion? Give the Bhaalspawn to me or suffer the consequences!” 

_Bhaalspawn? Now that is interesting._ “A Bhaalspawn, you say?” Dekaras asked, making himself sound vaguely bored even as his finger slid imperceptibly towards a certain hidden pocket. “And what would you be wanting with such a one?” _That twitchy little person was a child of Murder? How very odd. He did not look as if he could hurt a fly. On the other hand, I suppose Zaerini didn’t look much like Sarevok either._

“That is not for you to know, human! Only for the Mistress! Now, will you give him to me?” 

“Nope!” Poppy cheerfully said, shifting her grip on her sword. “We don’t like getting ordered about by bucktoothed smelly old corpses.” 

“I AM NOT BUCKTOOTHED!” 

“Ah, of course not,” Dekaras thoughtfully added. “I can see it now. The impression is caused solely by your weak and receding chin. Whatever the case, it is pretty much unsightly. Almost as much as the almost complete mindlessness in your expression, though I suppose one should not expect too much from a wandering carcass that simply hasn’t realized it’s dead yet. Here is a hint. If you want to make a favorable impression on people, try hiding your face first. A solid black cloak raised in front of it should do the trick. I am not about to lend you mine though; for one thing I doubt I’d ever get rid of the stench. What do you even need to bite people for? You can simply breathe on them and they’ll keel over dead.” _Very good. He’s extremely angry now, and that will make him careless. Just one more, to cap things off._ “And I hope you haven’t invested heavily in an expensive coffin. When my friend and I are done with you, a small urn will be quite enough.” 

Screeching with rage the vampire attacked with the speed of a charging tiger, fangs bared. 

_Well, I got what I wanted_ , Dekaras thought. _Now let’s just hope the other part of the plan works, or this situation could rapidly become very awkward._

The vampire charged, claws outstretched, and fangs bared, its eyes glowing red with murderous hatred and bloodlust. And then it shrieked with horror and revulsion as a small glass bottle flew through the air, striking its face and releasing a clear fluid. Within seconds, the terrifying undead creature was on the floor, trying to tear its own face off, and doing a very good job of it. The previously handsome visage was a red and bloody ruin, and the fact that the creature’s flesh kept regenerating only served to keep it in ongoing agony. 

Dekaras didn’t waste any time, but planted his knee in the vampire’s back, grasping it by the hair as he positioned a very sharp dagger across the creature’s throat. “Now,” he said in a pleasant voice, “I know that vampires regenerate tissue very quickly. So, the question is, if I cut your head off, can you grow a new one before your body falls to pieces? Shall we attempt the experiment? This is magical steel, and very sharp. Do you think you’re fast enough? Well? Do you?” 

There were a few muffled groans. 

“No? Very well then. Why are you hunting Bhaalspawn? And for whose benefit?” 

“Aaaaaghhh…” the vampire moaned. “What…did you…do?” 

“Never mind that. Tell me about the Bhaalspawn. Unless you want to try that experiment I mentioned?” 

“No…It was her! The Mistress! Mistress Bodhi!” 

“Mistress Bodhi,” the assassin said. “Now we’re getting somewhere. She is a vampire, I take it? The leader of your coven?” 

“Yes…yes…very old. Very powerful!” The vampire hissed. “Ah…get it off of me!” 

“Not just yet, my fanged friend. I want details. Why does this Bodhi wish you to hunt Bhaalspawn?”

“Don’t know much. She needs them for something, her and her brother.” 

“Brother? Another vampire?”

“No!” The vampire sounded terrified, if such a thing was possible. “No! He’s…he’s…Irenicus. His name is Irenicus. He is Death! Death!” 

The two assassins gave each other a quick look. Anybody who could frighten a vampire like that had to be a very formidable opponent. 

“What do these people need Bhaalspawn for?” Poppy asked. The halfling’s normally cheerful face was set in a stony scowl. Her short sword was positioned right next to the vampires’ ear, ready to drive into it directly into the brain. “Are they starting a collection or something?” 

“Don’t know…I don’t know much. Only know they got one already, I was there. Two months ago. A half-elf. Up near Candlekeep. Mistress Bodhi wanted a spare she said, in case one of the others didn’t work…that’s this one, the one that keeps disappearing.” 

“Candlekeep?” Dekaras said, his voice suddenly sharp. “What did this half-elf look like? And what of her companions?” 

“Red hair…nice face. Was another girl there, human one with pink hair. Two more half-elves, one male and one female. One dark-skinned woman, one really big man.” 

“And those were all there were? Nobody else?” 

“Hsss…nobody! There was nobody! Let me up!” 

“No. Where were these people taken? And where may your Mistress Bodhi and this Irenicus person be found?” 

“You’d better tell him,” Poppy said in a cheerful voice. “He has a nasty temper when he’s angry.” She paused. “Come to think of it, he has a nasty temper all the time, but when he’s angry it’s worse.” 

“Athkatla! The Mistress is in Athkatla! I don’t know where the other one hides, I swear it. I have told you all I know. Can I go now?” 

There was a hissing noise, and then a wet thump. “No,” Dekaras said, wiping his dagger off as he got off the still twitching body. “At least not as you are.” He had hardly stepped aside before the vampire dissolved into a cloud of white mist that oozed out beneath the door, keening softly. “Nasty business,” the assassin said with a small grimace. “I can’t say I liked it much, but you will note I never promised him anything, and I wouldn’t have dared letting him go free with such a grudge against us. At least this way it’ll be a long time before he’s capable of reshaping himself and coming after either of us.” 

Poppy nodded. “Naturally. He’s not permanently destroyed though, is he?” 

“No. If he can make it back to his coffin in time, he’ll reform. We would have needed a stake through the heart or some sanctified item to stuff into the mouth in order to completely destroy him. Sadly, I only have so much spare pocket space, and stakes are rather bulky. But at least the essence of garlic worked. Good thing I purchased some after my last run-in with a vampire.” 

“Oh, so that’s what it was?” Poppy said with a grin. “Poor bugger, he was being repelled by himself! No wonder he freaked out.”

“Indeed.” Dekaras got up off the floor, frowning. “This is very disturbing news.” 

The halfling nodded. “The Bhaalspawn he mentioned capturing would be this girl that little Eddie was traveling with? This Zaerini?” 

“Yes.” There was a distant look in the taller assassin’s black eyes as he spoke next. “Yes, that would be the one. An intelligent girl, with her wits about her, and a nice sense of humor. And then there was her friend, Imoen, the one I mentioned to you before.” 

“Yeah, the little thief? The one you said was very promising?” 

“That’s the one.” Dekaras smiled faintly. “You would like her for certain. Unnaturally fond of pink, and otherwise very much like you in demeanor. Bubbly, noisy, cheerful and utterly irrepressible. I became quite fond of her, you know.” 

“’Course you did Dekkie, if she resembles me at all! Since I am after all your Best Friend, not to mention cute, funny, and really clever.” 

“And with odd taste in clothes.” 

“And with odd…hey! Says you, oh gloomy and doom laden one! Do you own anything that isn’t basic black, apart from disguises?” 

“Yes. And I’m not going to tell you what it is. Anyway, that is beside the point. The point is that I’m fond of that girl, and I do not like the idea of her being held captive by vampires or that…Irenicus, whoever he is.” Dekaras looked out the window, where darkness was rapidly falling over Beregost, and gave the house on the other side of the street a murderous scowl. That was the one that was owned by Kagain the mercenary, the dwarf who might know where Edwin was presently to be found, but who annoyingly enough was still out of town. “The Harpers don’t really matter to me, and certainly not the Wychlaran and her slave, but I do care about what happens to the girls, and particularly Imoen. I would go down to Athkatla at once if I could, but I don’t dare yet, not when I’m this close to picking up Edwin’s trail again. I have to find him before I can commit properly to anything else; you understand that, don’t you? But if I leave the girls for too long, the scent may get cold, and it may be too late for them.” Then he looked a little irritated when Poppy promptly started giggling. “Now what’s so very amusing?” 

“Oh, Dekkie!” the halfling laughed, wiping at her eyes. “You never learn, do you?” 

“What?” 

“That you don’t have to do everything on your own all the time, you big silly!” Poppy gave her taller companion a fond, but slightly exasperated shove. “ _You_ go down to Athkatla and see if you can find those girls. _I_ stay here and watch out for that dwarf, Kagain. _I_ find out where little Eddie has got to. _I_ send word to _you_. Simple, isn’t it? I’m your Best Friend, I don’t mind helping you out, ever. Any more than you have ever minded helping me when I needed it. Second time in a day, really, if I have to remind you of that again I’ll start thinking you’re growing forgetful.” 

It was with open amusement that the halfling noticed that her Best Friend looked highly embarrassed, and that there was actually a faint flush in his cheeks. “Yes, yes, all right,” he said. “I get the point. Excuse me for trying not to bother you.” 

“Do you feel bothered when you help me out? Like that time when there was a contract on my head and I almost got killed? Twice?”

“Of course not!” Dekaras said, sounding rather offended. “You know that I would do anything within my power to help you, whenever you required it.” 

“So why would I feel any different?” 

“It’s not the same thing.”

“Why?”

“It’s not…I mean…I…” 

“Never mind, Dekkie,” Poppy said, and her eyes sparkled with mischief. “You’re sort of cute when you’re confused. And you may not think you’re worth any help, but I do. Besides, Alora is fine, and she won’t mind waiting for me a little. So, are you going to agree?” 

“Yes, I suppose so. Anything to stop you pestering me. And Poppy?” 

“Yes?” 

Dekaras hunched down on the floor, folding his tall frame up until he was at eye-level with his Best Friend. “I am grateful, very much so. And I will try to make it up to you, any way I can. And you know I love you like a sibling and would be prepared to die for you in a heartbeat.”

“Yes?”

“And if you ever refer to me as ‘cute’ in public I _will_ kill you.” 

Poppy simply laughed again, loudly enough to make her pigtails bounce, and the dimples in her round cheeks were very prominent. “Sure you will, Dekkie. Sure you will. Just let me remind you that you look pretty cute when issuing death threats too.” 

“You’re impossible, you know that?” Dekaras asked, shaking his head even as he gave his friend a crooked smile. “Completely callous when it comes to my dignity, and utterly merciless.” 

“Of course I am. And you wouldn’t have me any other way. Now, let’s see to your packing – you’ve got quite a way to go. And if I don’t help you out, you’ll probably forget half the things you need. And just remember, I’m only letting you go off on your own because I trust you not to do anything to hurt yourself again. You’d better promise to take proper care of yourself, because if you don’t I’ll be really upset when I catch up with you, and you don’t want to face the Halfling of Horror, do you?” 

“Yes, all right,” Dekaras said, shaking his head. “I promise. What’s next? A stern admonition for me to remember to wear warm clothes?” Then he thought of something. “Actually, Icewind Dale took care of that little lesson already. Good thing Amn is more clement.” 

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it? Think maybe you should wear a loincloth? Black, naturally.”

“Not that clement. And no, I won’t wear a loincloth, that is completely absurd.” 

“Why not? You have the legs for it.”

“Poppy, it is not a matter of ‘having the legs for it’. It is just that I would rather not have people fall over themselves laughing at the sight of me. And it’s very hard to carry concealed weapons in a loincloth, and certainly very painful.” 

“Oh, I don’t know…” the halfling mused. “Some of them might like it well enough. At least think about it. And you could have a dagger strapped to your thigh or something.”

“No. Absolutely not. No loincloth.” 

“Awww…” Poppy said. Then she grinned again. “Well, at least keep it in mind every time you’re about to go all gloomy. It ought to help.” 

_Actually_ , Dekaras thought, _it probably would._ Being exasperated enough was a very good way to forget about being unhappy. And Poppy, of course, knew this perfectly well. _Come to think of it, she knows me almost too well. I’d be embarrassed by it, and of how easily she tweaks my nose, but of course I couldn’t ever get really angry with her._ He smiled a little ruefully. _And of course she knows that as well._


	29. The Ace of Cups

**Cards Reshuffled 29 – The Ace of Cups**

_People you don’t want to trust with covert operations: Hot-headed rangers, Harpers, loud-mouthed gnomes, evil-smiting Helmites, or megalomaniac wizards who’ll pick a fight with the first enemy guard they meet. There are times when I wonder why I even bother trying._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Are you saying that this is where those three drones are hiding?” Jaheira asked, her voice edged with disapproval. Yet it also sounded tired, far more tired than normal, and she was leaning even more heavily on her staff than previously. Now and then she would have to stop and rest, usually pretending that she had spotted something interesting in the distance. Zaerini pretended not to have noticed the pretense. She knew the druid and knew that right now her pride was all she had to cling to. 

“Yep,” she said, peering at the grimy sign above the entrance to the inn. “Softpaws says she can smell their tracks. And I asked around a little, they were spotted going in here.” Edwin, Jan and Anomen together had created quite an impression on the people of the slums, and much amusement as well. It hadn’t been difficult to trace them to this seedy little tavern. _And they’d better not have gone on a drinking spree when Jaheira’s life is in danger, that’s all I say._

“Let me go in first,” she said, as a naughty idea crept into her head. “I want to give them a little surprise.” She reached within, to the slumbering power that was entwined with her soul, and then she felt her form shift and melt, until she assumed her alternate shape of a smallish red cat. With a satisfied flick of her tail she headed into the tavern, Softpaws close by her. She had to dodge and slip between quite a few feet, but then she eventually spotted her wayward companions. They were all sitting at a table near the fireplace, with a few assorted mugs on the table in front of them. _I can’t believe this. I ask them to do a little simple snooping around, and instead they sit around here? I’m starting to think Jaheira has less than three days, from the way she sounds when she breathes, we can’t waste any time._

_Does that mean I won’t get my regular fifth snooze today?_ Softpaws said, sounding worried. 

_Your concern is really touching, you know that?_

_Snoozing is important. You wouldn’t want my fur to lose its shine, would you?_

_Well, you can sleep in my pack if you have to. Just try not to destroy anything._

As the shape changed bard silently crossed the floor, she positioned herself behind the chair where Edwin was sitting and listened to what the three men were saying. Well, actually it was mostly Jan talking, a complicated story about some relative of his who’d been a bounty hunter and wound up having to travel all across Kara-Tur with a convict chained to his waist, a convict who also happened to be a vampire. Edwin and Anomen only groaned quietly now and then. Finally, at the point where Jan described his relative’s fear and horror at finding out that the vampire had borrowed his toothbrush, Edwin had had enough. 

“Be quiet, you sad reject from a traveling freak show! I have heard quite enough about your miserably cowardly uncle, and his vampire, and their turnip balancing act! No more! If the man had had any spine at all, he would have gutted the undead menace and stuffed it, the way I would do if the Nosferatu should ever seek to touch me with their cold….AAAAAGHHHH!” 

The reason for the Red Wizard’s sudden scream was that Zaerini had suddenly leapt onto the back of his chair and pressed her cold nose against his neck. Flailing his arms and legs about in a wild panic, he managed to topple his chair, as well as to lose control of his metal mug, which spun in a wide arc through the air and wound up in the lit fireplace. Meanwhile, Zaerini, who had the higher agility of a feline at her disposal, jumped on to the table, where she promptly changed back into her proper form and sat dangling her legs over the edge. “What’s the matter, Eddie?” she asked innocently. “Aren’t you happy to see me?” 

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack, you fool woman? (Gah, why do people seem to think it’s so very amusing to sneak up on me? Now she’s doing it too!)” Edwin was still lying on his back on the floor, but that didn’t stop his tongue from running as quickly as ever. 

“Nope. Just trying to wake you up in case you’re too drunk to remember what you were supposed to be doing.” 

“Nonsense! Edwin Odesseiron is never too drunk! I am always in perfect control, the omnipotent master of my mind and body! (Which is of course the epitome of masculine perfection, as I would be happy to demonstrate on a more private occasion.)” 

“Really? What about Gracie then? I thought you said that happened because you were drunk?” 

“That was an exception, though I would hardly expect your limited intellect to grasp such a complex concept.” 

“Limited, is it?” By now the redhead had got off the table and was hunched down on the floor, waving her finger beneath the now seated wizard’s nose. “Hardly as limited as your sense of taste, Mr Nose Ring!” 

“I’ll have you know that I look superlatively and stunningly handsome in it, as I do in everything! My sense of taste is as superior as the rest of me, and a sure guide in the jungles of male fashion.” 

“Yeah, the sort of guide that will tie you up in the middle of a swamp and wait for the crocodiles to eat you. The gaudier the better, right?” 

“Hmpf!” Edwin said, sticking his nose in the air. “As the barbarian you are, you clearly have no appreciation for high Thayvian fashion. Kindly go back to rolling in dung with the other peasants.” 

“Ha! It’s not me who always gets attacked by greedy magpies trying to tear off all the sparklies and gold thread from my clothes!” 

“Unappreciative, lowbrow wench!” 

“Greedy, spoilt snob!” 

“Skulking stalker!” 

“Vain peacock!” 

“Brat!” 

“Bully!” 

By now the bard was leaning in even closer towards the wizard, staring directly into his dark eyes, and she was grinning widely, pleased to notice that there was a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth as well. Things would likely have progressed rapidly, had not Anomen chosen that moment to interrupt the proceedings. 

“My lady!” he cried out, getting to his feet. “Step aside, and I shall chastise this villain mightily for his rudeness and make him cry in the dust for your pardon!” 

“Never mind,” Jaheira said in a very dry voice. The druid had entered the tavern by now, Minsc in tow, and she was watching the pair on the floor with a look that was a strange mixture of humor, annoyance and plain weariness. “These two have their own very unique way of communication. They are not about to kill each other.” 

“Right,” Rini said, getting to her feet and dusting herself off. She was feeling a little embarrassed, she hadn’t meant to get carried away like that. “So, boys, what have you found? We have good news ourselves; we know that Ployer owns some sort of tavern in the slums, a place called The One Cup. Any of you got any idea where it is?” 

Three heads shook in return. “Nope,” Jan said. “But we met this really interesting old hag who…” 

“Would you look at the beautiful weather!” Anomen suddenly said in a loud and slightly desperate voice. 

“Yes!” Edwin added in. “And…and the…er…beautifully…er…dirty and disgusting people, smelling like stinking offal.” 

“…who reminded me of my dear old grannie’s sister, Gloria Jansen,” Jan said with a twisted grin, his eyes twinkling as he noticed the obvious discomfort of the priest and the Red Wizard. “She was a strange old lady, quite batty. In fact, she called herself ‘Bat-Gnome’ and preferred to sleep hanging by her toenails inside a drafty old cave. She also wore a very naturalistic bat-suit, complete with fur, large ears and real guano, and she’d shoot people with her Rabies-Crossbow. Well, not any people, only criminals. She fought crime, you see, together with her youthful sidekick, a plucky renegade and brilliant young Cowled Wizard, who hid his stunning beauty behind a pair of thick spectacles. Funny thing, as soon as he took them off his hair would turn blond, his teeth would straighten out and he’d lose ten pounds and get perfect skin. ‘Sobbin’ he was called, since he whined a lot about his hero outfit constituting of a tiny little scrap of tight leather. Auntie Gloria was very fond of younger men, you see.” 

“That is quite enough!” Anomen tried. 

“Alas,” Jan went on, “she died a tragic death. She was mucking the guano out of the cave one day when it landed on a passing villain, Acne Boy, most known for his hyper-intelligent mutated pimples, his secret training as a ninja zit-squeezer, and his bad temper, so common in adolescents. Don’t you agree, boys?” 

Edwin and Anomen simply glowered at him. 

“Anyway,” the gnome said, “Auntie Gloria managed to hit Acne Boy straight in the face with the guano, as I said, since she was ogling him rather than paying attention to her aim. Unfortunately, this caused all of his pimples to erupt, and the resulting explosion completely clogged the nostril holes of Auntie’s mask, suffocating her.”

“Ewwwwww!” Rini said, sticking her tongue out. 

“Yes, that’s what the poor undertaker said. A sad story, and it goes to show that you should never allow your urges to distract you too badly. Isn’t that so, boys?” 

Once again, the wizard and the Helmite wore identical, sullen expressions. 

“I need another drink,” Edwin muttered, uttering a brief spell that made his hand coat with a shimmering blue force field. Then he simply reached into the fireplace to retrieve his mug, which curiously enough wasn’t even sooty. In fact, it looked cleaner than ever. 

“What are those pretty letters down the bottom?” Minsc asked, peering over the wizard’s shoulder. “Boo cannot read them, but he likes the way they glow.” 

Indeed, there were letters suddenly visible down the bottom of the mug. Winding, fiery letters, spiraling around the vessel. “It’s Elvish,” Edwin nonchalantly said. “Some sort of annoying advertising. It says ‘One Cup to Rule them All, One Cup to Find Them, One Cup to Bring them All, and in the Darkness Bind them. Open 24 hours daily, for your convenience. Once you enter, you’ll never want to leave. No halflings served.” 

“The One Cup?” Jaheira hissed, then had to steady herself against the table. “You…all this time…and you have been sitting here all along?” 

“Hooray!” Minsc exclaimed. “It is the Evil Cup, and our good friends have found it for us, adding their names to the footnotes of heroic history! Now Minsc and Boo will wring the red wine of Truth out of the nose of evil and serve it up with the Cherry of Justice!” Without waiting for a reply, he hurried over towards the bar, brandishing his hamster in front of him like a sword. 

“What does he mean ‘good friends’?” Edwin asked, sounding worried. “And what is this ‘heroism’ thing? I cannot be a hero! Have you any idea how embarrassing that is?”

“Not now!” Zaerini said, hurrying after Minsc. “Any moment now he’ll…” 

“TELL US WHERE THE EVIL PLOYER MAN IS HIDING, LITTLE BARTENDER PERSON, OR MINSC WILL BE SERVING YOU SWIFT HAMSTER JUSTICE WITH A NICE CHERRY ON TOP!” 

“…go berserk,” Rini sighed. She hurried over to put her hand on the large ranger’s arm, urging him to put down the bartender he was currently holding by the throat. The man was looking quite terrified, and his eyes were bulging. “Sorry,” she said with an encouraging smile. “He just gets excited now and then. We’ll go away just as soon as you tell us where Ployer is. I know he owns the place; he probably even lives here.” 

The bartender pointed silently towards a door in the back of the room, his arm trembling. 

“Thank you!” Zaerini politely said. Then she turned around. “Right, let’s prepare ourselves and…” 

Too late. Jaheira was already staggering determinedly through the designated door, her teeth bared in anger. The fact that she was almost too weak to stand didn’t seem to bother her, but then such things never had. Before the bard had the time to stop her friend, a voice sounded from inside the back room. An oily, smugly satisfied voice. “Ah, Jaheira. I see you have dragged your sorry soon-to-be carcass here to see me. Are you here to beg? Perhaps to grovel? I don't mind. I have even cleaned my shoes.”

Ployer, the half-elf thought to herself, then hurried towards the door, swearing silently. And we’ve lost the element of surprise. Let’s hope those wizards keep their word.

In the backroom behind the bar of The One Cup, the former baron Ployer was sitting on a ratty brown couch. A literally ratty couch, for it looked as if rodents had taken to nesting in it, judging by the marks from little teeth and the heaps of droppings. Not that Ployer seemed to mind. He sat there; looking totally relaxed, sipping from a grimy glass containing some form of golden liquid. A bottle stood next to him on a rickety old table, and several more lay scattered here and there on the dirty floor. Ployer himself looked much the same as Zaerini remembered him, with his loose skin and his hard little peppercorn eyes. He also had a highly unpleasant smirk on his face, one that displayed an impressive number of yellowing teeth and more than one gap. 

Jaheira stood in the middle of the floor in front of the ex-slaver, leaning on her staff. She was clutching it tight enough that her knuckles were whitening, looking as if she wanted to strike the man in front of her down at once. Yet she did not, and Rini was afraid she could begin to guess why. It seemed that merely being in the same room as Ployer was draining the druid of life energy, making the curse work faster. Her usually so brilliant green eyes were dull and lifeless, her skin papery dry, and strands of white were beginning to appear in her golden-brown hair, like frost devouring the leaves of autumn. The druid’s breathing was heavy, and worryingly irregular, as if it might end at any moment, and she didn’t look strong enough to slay a mouse, much less a man. 

“Despicable...despicable wretch!” Jaheira said, coughing. “You knew I would come here?”

Ployer chuckled, a sound resembling bubbles of marsh gas escaping a putrid swamp. His breath added to the resemblance. “Of course! I am your only link to life, so what choice do you have. Come now; grovel for your life before me. I haven't got all day!”

“Jaheira is not one to grovel, Ployer,” Zaerini said, drawing her sword, the one that Renal Bloodscalp had given her. The black blade slid smoothly out of its scabbard, silent as the breath of a ghost. An assassin’s blade, he said. Well, it is fitting. This is one man I would gladly pay to see dead or kill myself. “Nor are the rest of us. Hand over the lock of hair you used to curse her. Now.” 

“Evil little curse man!” Minsc bellowed. “Minsc’s Witch has spoken, and Minsc agrees! Heroes of Goodness don’t grovel, they stand tall, grinding the ugly face of Evil to pulp beneath the big feet of Justice!” Boo squeaked encouragingly, and Rini sneaked a quick glance at Minsc’s feet. They were very big, and she wouldn’t mind seeing them performing the action described. 

“Forget the brainless babbling about heroism!” Edwin chimed in. “You, Ployer, are an annoying little pest, with the looks of a maggot and the brains to match. Unlike myself, you are no sinister and terrifying foe wielding masterful magic to shake the earth; you are simply a nuisance, an irritation, and a buyer of inferior curses. (Had it been one of mine, the druid would have been instantly dead of course.) On the scale of life’s annoyances, you aren’t a slavering dragon out to eat us, you are only the equivalent of stepping in a dog turd, and you will be treated as one.” 

“Nicely put, Red,” Jan said appreciatively, “and it does make me think of a cousin of mine, Lucretia Jansen, who liked playing around with cursing people. She cursed the mailman with a severe case of fear of dogs, she cursed the grocer to make his apples poisonous, and when her husband’s snoring annoyed her, she cursed him by making him sleepless. Then, one day, she tried putting a curse on her own hair, to get rid of the lice, something you may want to try yourself. Sadly, she miscalculated, and the curse made the lice grow to the size of horses, whereupon they promptly bit her head off. The herd of liberated lice still roams wild and free somewhere in Sembia, I think, running as swift as the wind, manes flowing. Anyway, cursing is dangerous business, and shouldn’t be undertaken by amateurs.” 

“And if you do not give that hair up, villain,” Anomen concluded, “I will make it a personal quest to make you skull shatter into so many little pieces that Helm himself couldn’t put it back together again.” 

Jaheira’s shoulders straightened a little at the support of her companions, and when she spoke her voice was stronger than before, almost normal. “I am...I am not here to grovel, Ployer. You would sooner get that from my corpse!”¨

Ployer’s eyes narrowed with anger. “And I will, unless I get the satisfaction I want now. Come now, I can cure you if you drop your pretense of dignity and get your sickly carcass on its knees! And as for the rest of you, killing me will do no good. Unless I give you that hair of my own free will, the curse will remain after my death.” 

_That is bad news_ , Rini thought. _He could be lying to save himself of course, but there is no way of knowing for certain. We don’t dare kill him until we know for sure._

“I AM NOT HERE TO GROVEL!” Jaheira shouted. “I may be weak, even dying, but you WON'T get that! I have come to take what is mine! I will be free of you... of your...”

“You are about to collapse,” Ployer sneered, “and cannot even speak. Now, of course, you will have to grovel in pantomime. What could be more degrading than that?” He snorted. “I am finding it most amusing, I might add.”

Zaerini clenched her jaws together, feeling hot anger bubbling inside her, wanting to erupt. Her soul was screaming for the blood of the man in front of her, but she dared not reach out and take it. _Kill him. Kill him. KILL HIM! No…Jaheira…I don’t dare. Not yet._

_Steady, kitten_ , Softpaws warned her. _Not yet. You mustn’t pounce too soon._

“You’ve forgotten something, Ployer,” the bard said, practically hissing with fury. “If you should succeed and Jaheira dies, you will have lost your hostage. There will be nothing to keep me and my friends from killing you and believe me when I say that I will be enjoying every single moment of it.” 

Ployer got to his feet, his eyes gleaming with mad triumph and hatred. “Your threats are nothing. You came expecting an old man in hiding, but I hoped Jaheira would find me because by the time she did she would be utterly crippled! I would enjoy crushing her, but I will settle for you! Meet my hirelings! My last favors paid for them, and they are well worth it!” He spread out his hands in a dramatic pose. “My loyal minions! Kill them!”

Nothing happened. A few seconds passed, and still nothing happened. Zaerini could feel a slow and satisfied smile spreading across her face as she watched the growing desperation in Ployer’s eyes. _Looks like Terrece decided to keep his word after all. And now, look at that little rat squirming…_

Er...Attack!“ Ployer tried, pointing at the adventurers. “Now!...uh...Now! I command you! Kill them! Where are you?!”

_Well, well. Look at the rat running about in frantic circles. Not so brave now, are you, rat? And now, let’s play._

“Looking for somebody?” Rini said in a politely inquiring voice. “Whoever they are, it looks like they’ve decided to stand you up. How sad. Maybe next time you’d better make sure that you are the highest bidder. Or else find yourself a personality that isn’t repulsive enough for your hirelings to run screaming.” 

Ployer’s face collapsed visibly, sagging into despair and humiliation, and suddenly he looked far more ill than Jaheira did. “But...no! Damn you, it's happened again! Everyone against me, everyone.”

“How sad,” Edwin said. “Please spare us the one-hour sermon on how nobody understands you and how your mother always liked your sister best, my stomach could not take it.” 

“HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT MUMMY LIKED SISSY BEST? THAT IS SUPPOSED TO BE SECRET!” 

“The lock of hair,” Rini said. “Right now, please.” She raised her sword a little. “Unless you want to find out firsthand about playing with me, and I’d better warn you that when I get excited, I play rough.” 

_Nice one, kitten_ , Softpaws said in an approving voice, sending her mistress the image of a soft and furry paw, claws extended, batting a rat about all over the floor. 

_Thanks. I rather liked it myself._

“Very well,” Ployer spat. “We have a deal. Here, this is the personal item used to curse her. I took it from that fop, Belgrade. She should be fine with it returned. Now get out...get out.” He held out a small object that the bard instantly snatched up, a lock of autumn-colored hair that could only belong to Jaheira. As soon as she had handed it to the druid, an astonishing transformation took place. Jaheira’s back straightened, the white gradually retreated from her hair. Once again, her skin took on the glow of health, and her eyes shone with their old fierceness as her muscles regained their old strength. 

“It is done!” Jaheira cried out, and her voice was strong once again. “I am healed.”

“Yes, yes,” Ployer muttered. “Now get out. We had a deal, after all. At least I got to Belgrade…”

And Jaheira rounded on the ex-slaver, her face tight with fury. “You murdered him!” she shouted. “You murdered Belgrade, and there will be no deals for a slayer of Harpers, or of my friends!” 

Ployer didn’t even have the time to scream. Jaheira’s quarterstaff met his throat with a violent cracking sound, and he dropped to the floor, gurgling, unable to scream. With a broken windpipe it didn’t take him very long to die, but it certainly looked painful enough. Once it was over, Jaheria knelt on the floor, holding the little lock of hair in her hand, her head bowed. “Belgrade…” she said. “You are avenged…my friend. As am I.” 

“Jaheira?” Zaerini asked, hurrying over to her friend. “Are you all right? Is the curse truly gone now?” 

The druid nodded slowly. “Yes,” she said. “I can sense it…it is gone. I am still weary, but a day’s rest should restore me fully.” She got to her feet, turning to her companions. “And…I thank you. All of you. I will not forget this.” 

“’twas nothing,” Anomen said. “Only the basest of villains could stand aside and watch a companion suffer.” 

“That’s right!” Jan agreed. “Friends and relatives should stick together, like glue and some more glue! Well, except for Uncle Scratchy, but that’s a different story altogether.” 

“Don’t look at me,” Edwin muttered. “I only did it because your death would have been a serious inconvenience and would have upset…er…never mind. And I suppose you did heal me the other day, which should make us even. (It’s not as if I care whether she lives or dies. No, not at all. I’m only fulfilling my obligations. Hmmm…that lock of hair was interesting though. Very interesting. I wonder if perhaps I might…)” 

“Minsc is very happy to see Jaheira all better!” Minsc boomed, picking the druid up and squeezing her tightly in his arms. “And Boo is happy too, the happiest hamster in the world! Minsc will make certain Jaherira gets her rest and doesn’t have to wear herself out!” With that, he easily carried the druid out the door, despite her furious protests. 

“Put me down, you great lug!” Jaheira said. “I can walk on my own, I am not a helpless infant! Put me down I say! Are you even listening to me?” Her cries receded into the distance. 

“She certainly seemed upset,” Anomen said, sounding a little worried. 

“Oh, she’ll get over it,” Rini said, shrugging. “Minsc will make sure she rests as she should, and she’ll calm down once she has the time to think about it. And come to think of it, I guess we all could do with a little rest after this.”

“Perhaps,” Edwin said, looking thoughtful. “But in the meantime, there is still a tavern out there, and we never had the time to finish our drinks before. I say we continue what we started. (Perhaps I could buy her a drink or two. It might make her inclined to sit on my lap or something…)” 

“Good idea!” Jan agreed. “There’s a turnip beer out there, and it has my name on it! Everybody, let’s PARTY!” 

And as Zaerini laughed and followed her gnomish friend, Anomen and Edwin eagerly grasping one of her arms each, it seemed to her that the day was definitely improving.


	30. Amulet and Anthem

**Cards Reshuffled 30 – Amulet and Anthem**

_Bards are well known for adoring riddles, and puzzles, and the finding out of hidden secrets, and I am no different. Just show me a difficult puzzle, and I will not give up until I have solved it, no matter how complex or dangerous it is. If it also involves spending quality time with a certain cute wizard, that’s even better._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Ah, this one is very nice!” Edwin said as he lovingly unrolled a spell scroll, studying the runes written on it with an eager look on his face, reminiscent of a small child on Solstice Eve. “Sunfire…I’ve heard of that one. And what is this? Animate Dead? And Melf’s Minute Meteors…are you sure you can afford all of this?” 

“I can’t,” Zaerini said with an enigmatic smile. The bard was sitting across the table from the wizard, her legs up, her chair precariously balanced against the wall behind her. Since Jaheira needed rest to recuperate from her curse, the party had to take the day off, and so she and Edwin had decided to go over what scrolls she had managed to collect before joining the others for drinks, as well as the spare ones he had found during his time with Mae’Var. Right now, they were in her room, comparing their finds and sharing them between them. “That’s why I stole them all.”

Edwin’s eyes turned very wide and he startled violently. “Come again?”

“I stole them. Down at the Adventurer’s Mart, this afternoon after we came back from Ployer.”

“But…”

“Oh, not from Ribald Barterman himself. He has too many guards. But there’s this woman selling spell scrolls illegally and overpriced as well. So, I bought a few cheap ones, and then used sleight of hand to filch a few of the more expensive ones right beneath her nose. Worked like a charm.” 

Edwin was breathing very slowly as if he was trying to control his temper, and when he spoke his voice sounded clearly strained. “Are you quite insane? Don’t you have any idea how dangerous that was? Suppose you’d been caught? (My Hellkitten…imprisoned…it doesn’t bear thinking about. I would slay all of Athkatla before I allowed that, and then where would we be?)”

Rini shrugged, her golden eyes innocent and guileless at first glance, yet there was a bright sparkle of mischief in their depths, and a small grin on her face. “What’s the big deal? I wasn’t caught. No need to fuss.” 

“Fuss? FUSS? I am an Archwizard, the greatest of them all; with power enough to obliterate the sun and moon! I do not fuss!” 

The half-elf’s smile widened even more. “Yes, you do. But I don’t mind that much; it’s nice to know that you care enough to worry, even if it is totally unnecessary. I had everything under control.” 

“Oh yes, that’s what they always say, isn’t it? Right up until the moment when…when something goes wrong. (Pah! Rogues…suicidal the lot of them…yes…the lot…)” 

“Oh Eddie. Do try to relax a bit, or you’ll give yourself an ulcer. Anyway, it’s not as if I had much choice. We needed those scrolls. Both you and I need to expand our repertoire, so we’ll be as powerful as possible before we go after Irenicus. But I can’t afford to spend money on them that I can use for Gaelan Bayle’s payment, not when I can get them in my own special way instead. I’d filch new armor for Minsc if it was possible to stuff it in my pocket.” Her face turned serious, and she let the chair land properly on the floor with a loud thump. “I’m torn. I’m worried sick about Immy, and I want nothing more than to rush after her at once, but at the same time I know that we can’t afford not to be properly prepared when the time comes. So, I have to manage both, somehow, but…I worry about her. And I miss her. I miss her so much it hurts, and I keep wishing she was here, safe with us. I miss her face, I miss her voice, I miss…her.” 

“I know,” Edwin said, sounding serious himself. The wizard had got up from the table as she was speaking, and now he was standing a little behind her, his hands massaging her neck in a highly soothing manner. It felt good, so very good, all the tense knots in her muscles dissolving into flowing heat. She sighed a little, barely resisting an impulse to purr. 

“What…nnnghh…what do you know?” 

“I know how it is to miss somebody like that,” the wizard said, and there was no trace of the usual sarcasm or mockery in his voice. “I have done so, and I still do.” 

Zaerini twisted around a little to be able to look her companion in the face. _His family? He never told me just who he left behind in Thay._ Not that she hadn’t tried to wheedle it out of him, many times, but she had always been met with silence, evasion or irritation. “Edwin…” she said. “I know you’re in some kind of trouble with the Red Wizards. You…can’t go home as it is, can you?” 

The wizard’s tiny flinch told her that she was on the right track. “Is there anything I can to do help? You know I’ll do anything I can.” 

Edwin shook his head, not quite meeting her eyes. “No. There is nothing you, or anybody else can do. Perhaps one day, if I grow powerful enough, I may return triumphant, but not now.” 

“I’m sorry. I know you must miss it. I still miss Candlekeep sometimes, and the friends I had there, and it must be even worse for you. I mean, with Gorion dead there wasn’t much to go back to and Immy is all the family I have left, but you…you have family back there, don’t you?” 

The wizard’s dark face tightened a little. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I do.” Rini noticed that his hand went to his throat, touching the amulet that hung there, the way he often did when he was uneasy about something. When she was quite certain that he wasn’t about to say anything else, she decided to change the subject. 

“You know,” she said, “that amulet is really beautiful. What exactly is it that it does again?” 

“Ah,” Edwin said, smiling proudly. “It is an extraordinary thing, is it not? Perfectly crafted in every detail. Of course, I cannot tell you what it does, since such lofty magical secrets are far beyond a mind not schooled in the secret inner workings of the Red Wizards.” 

“Uh-huh. So, you have no idea what it does then?” 

“Yes, I do!” the wizard sputtered. “Of course I do! If you must know, it enhances my magical prowess, allowing me to memorize more spells than I could otherwise…uh oh…(Damn. I walked straight into that one.)” 

“Ha! I knew it was something like that!” The redheaded half-elf gave the wizard a triumphant little poke in the chest. “I knew it! I mean, I know you’re a brilliant wizard in your own right, but nobody should be able to memorize that many spells without some sort of magical aid.” 

“Yes, yes, yes,” Edwin said, sounding a little testy. “Mind you, one day I will be as powerful as any other divine entity, and then I will not need such trinkets. (Except for the emotional value, of course.)” 

“So how does it work? I’d love to have one myself.” 

“Er…it is highly complex, involving dangerous and secretive magic, and I couldn’t possibly hope to explain it to you, not in a million years. Not in a billion, zillion, trillion years in fact.” 

“So, in other words, you haven’t the faintest clue about how it works?” 

“Yes, I do! Of course I do! I just…er…don’t know for certain. But I will figure it out, one day. One day very soon, no doubt. (He might have told me; I really don’t see the reason for such secrecy unless it is to specifically frustrate me.)” 

“Oh, a puzzle!” Rini said, her eyes lighting up. “I love puzzles! And you know that I know a great deal about magical items, bards are required to do that. Go on, let me have a look! You don’t have to take it off if you don’t want to.” 

“I really don’t think…”

“Come on, Eddie! Please?” 

Five minutes later Edwin was seated on a chair in the middle of the room, and Zaerini was standing by his shoulder, bending over him in order to be able to get a better look at the amulet around his throat, practically cheek to cheek with him. A stray lock of bright red hair tumbled forward to tickle the wizard’s nose, and she absentmindedly tucked it behind her ear, her eyes not letting go of the amulet. “Sorry…” she murmured.

“That’s all right,” Edwin said, sounding a little strangled. “I don’t mind. (Except that if this goes on for much further something very embarrassing may just happen. Either that or my heart gives out.)” 

“Mmmm….” Rini said, not having heard a word. She was turning the amulet over in her hands, studying it carefully. One side was dominated by a gemstone, a large red ruby so dark that it was almost black. It felt warm to the touch and there seemed to be a faint glow deep within the dark depths, a pulsating rhythmical red light that seemed almost alive. _Reminds me a little of a heartbeat. Let’s try a little experiment and see if it’s connected to Edwin that way._

“What are you doing?” Edwin squeaked, almost jumping out of the chair. 

“Don’t talk! I’m trying to check your pulse.” 

“By touching my _neck_? (Not that I mind, it is certainly very pleasurable.)” 

“It is the easiest way to do it.” The bard looked at the amulet again. No, it didn’t match Edwin’s heartbeat, which coincidentally had increased enough to be almost impossible to determine. _Scratch that theory then._ Next, she looked at the back of the amulet, which was mostly smooth, but there was a spiraling pattern tracing itself towards the center, off-set with lesser rubies. No runes though, nothing to give her any clues about the way the amulet worked. “Edwin? Do you know what this symbol is?” 

“Of course,” the wizard said, his voice still a little strained. “That is the symbol of the Red Wizards. Nothing odd about it.” 

“Oh. I see.” _Probably a red herring then. No runes or other symbols whatsoever. That means that whoever designed this thought it very crucial that nobody else should be able to figure out just how it works. And since the Red Wizard symbol isn’t magical in itself, it can’t be the important part, though it would fool those who didn’t know what it was. It’s the big gem, that has to be the key._ “And the person who gave this to you was a friend? I think you implied such once before?” 

“Yes,” Edwin said, and she could feel his body stiffen a little. “Yes. A friend.” 

The bard waited expectantly, but when no other explanation seemed to be forthcoming, she went on with her examination. _A friend. Better not be some old lover, that’s all I say. But he has had the amulet for a long time, and it hasn’t harmed him, so the magic is clearly beneficial. I just can’t understand it._ It was very annoying; the amulet resembled nothing she had come across in any of the old legends she had studied. _But there will be some way to find out. There always is._

“I’ll just try a small divination spell,” Rini said. “If that’s all right with you, of course.” Beneath her questing fingers she thought she could feel heat radiating from the amulet. And there was something about it. A definite…presence, very hard to define. Once Edwin had given his consent, she hastily chanted the spell, not wanting to have the time to change her mind. A portal opened in her mind, and she found herself…elsewhere. 

She was floating in emptiness, faint red light surrounding her, light so dark that it was almost black. But only almost, because the true blackness was outside, outside the crystalline walls that surrounded her, like a cocoon, or a prison. Without, there was…a universe. Infinite blackness, infinite emptiness, but it was not all empty, oh no. There were thousands, millions of shining stars and flaring suns, slowly spinning in a majestic dance, spiraling outwards in glittering paths of light. Somehow, without knowing how, she knew that it wasn’t really stars and suns that she was seeing, but something else, something that her mind translated in this way. It was incredibly beautiful, and powerful, whatever it was, and she felt tears slowly rising in her eyes as she watched it. 

But then, slowly, she became aware of something else. A subtle…wrongness. Not the stars themselves, but…something else. Something that should have been there but was not, and the maddening thing was that she couldn’t tell what that ‘something’ was. Straining, she pushed her mind outwards, and found it expanding, past the safety of the cocoon, outwards, ever outwards, towards the farthest reaches of the stars. And then she found herself pushed back. There was something…a presence…and it was repelling her, seemingly without even really noticing that she was there, as easily as an adult might push a crawling toddler out of harm’s way using only a foot. It didn’t feel hostile exactly, but she might as well have tried to stand against a flood wave. With a gasp of frustration, she returned, and found herself standing on the floor of her room in the Copper Coronet once more, still holding the amulet in her hand. It was feeling even hotter against her fingers than it had before. _Did I awaken something? And if so, what?_

“Are you all right?” Edwin asked, sounding concerned. “Did you learn anything?”

“I’m fine,” Rini said, smiling faintly. “I didn’t learn much, no. The amulet is very powerful, but we already knew that. And it’s dangerous. Not to you I don’t think, but I’m not sure, and I still have no idea exactly what it does. There’s something about it that bothers me. I’d like to study it some more, later.” 

“As you wish. Though I have to warn you, I will not take it off. I…promised not to, and I will keep that promise. (I have broken enough promises already.)” 

“Sure. It’s yours after all, you make the decisions.” Rini stroked the amulet a final time, watching the faintly pulsating light within the dark depths. The thing almost seemed to be laughing at her. _Whatever it is that you do, I will figure out your secret. I swear it._

_Meanwhile…_

“What is taking her so long?” Anomen asked himself for the thirteenth time, unaware of the fact that he was thinking out loud. His eyes were irresistibly drawn to the staircase leading upstairs, hoping to see a certain redhead descend from on high like…like the lovely princess out of some old story, radiating magic and mystery. 

“Oh, I don’t know…” Jan said, grinning at the priest. “Maybe she and Red are making mad, passionate love right about now. There are lots of interesting stories about the Thayvians, almost as many as about the Drow, would you like to hear some?” 

“Take that back, gnome, or I will give you a chastising you shall never forget for insulting the name of a virtuous lady!” 

“Ooooh, chastising!” Jan said, clasping his hands together. The gnome’s large nose barely reached over the tabletop in the Copper Coronet’s common room, despite him sitting on a few pillows, but Anomen could just make out the amused look on his face. “How very kinky, Ano! You know, there are stories about paladinic chastising too, but I think in your present state ‘The Passionate Perversions of Percy the Perfect Paladin’ might be a little too much for you. That’s a very disturbing purple color your face has turned, you know. Maybe adventuring isn’t good for your health?”

“Sir Percy the Virtuous is a highly respected paladin, one of the most upstanding members of the Order!” 

“Whatever you say Ano, and I’m sure he does a lot of standing up too. Speaking of which, I promised you a story about Thay, didn’t I?” 

“I will let you prattle on if you wish, your words cannot touch me,” Anomen growled, trying to keep his face under control. His hand clasped his mug of carrot juice so tightly it hurt though. _She wouldn’t! She would never harbor feelings for that disgustingly rude wizard with his overblown ego! Would she?_

“Good man! A rigid unwillingness to live in the real world will get you far in the Order, I’m sure! One of their most valued traits, that is, almost as highly valued as the thing with the armor polish. Practice the smiting some more, and you’ll soon become the Chief Prude.” 

“It’s called ‘The PRELATE!’” 

“Sure, it is, Ano. Anyway, about Thay. One of my aunts, Auntie Possum Jansen, she traveled a lot all over the place. Very wild she was, auntie Possum. Liked nothing better than a little session between herself, three young wizards and an insane donkey. If you want to try, I can give you her notes, though you’d need two more wizards.” 

“I am not listening to a word you are saying.” 

“So, then Auntie Possum went searching for even wilder thrills, and she thought that the oldest Red Wizard she could find would probably be the one most knowledgeable about the sort of things she was interested in. She was especially curious about the secret of the Twelve Wild Monkeys.” 

“Monkeys…No! I am not listening to this! La la la! I am not listening!” 

“Why Ano,” Jan said with a smirk, “if you’re going to keep your hands over your ears like that, how will you ever hear the end of the story? Auntie Possum eventually ran into this ancient wizard, and after she bribed him with her best turnip steak, he eventually gave in to her charms. Taught her everything he knew, and now she makes a fortune traveling about giving public lessons.” 

“Public…public lessons?” 

“Sure! Thayvian cuisine is getting more and more popular every day you know, what with all those little restaurants cropping up everywhere, lots of people want to learn about how to properly make Thay food and are prepared to pay for it. You should ask Red to tell you about Twelve Wild Monkeys sometime, it’s a really nice dessert actually, lots of chocolate.” 

“Dessert? But…but I…” 

“Yes, Ano?” Jan asked, his blue eyes dangerously innocent. “What did _you_ think I was talking about? Not something naughty I hope, I’m sure knights aren’t supposed to think naughty thoughts. Maybe you should go do some chastising…” 

_Helm forgive me_ , Anomen thought, burying his face in his hands to keep his blush from showing. _That gnome may actually drive me to murder one of these days. Think calming, relaxing thoughts, like Sir Keldorn teaches in Virtue Class. Calm blue ocean. Calm blue ocean. Don’t lose your temper and bash his head in. Calm blue ocean. Sun on the daisies. Twelve Wild Monk…No! Calm blue ocean…_

“Hi, boys!” a clear female voice said, causing Anomen’s head to snap up so abruptly that his jaw was practically driven into his brain. “Everything all right?” Zaerini sat down next to him, looking particularly energized and pleased about something. Her wild red hair danced about her face as she looked from the cleric to the gnome, she had a wide smile on her face, and her eyes were glittering. Anomen immediately became unaware of everything else, including the drunken laughter from the adjoining tables, the swaying hips of the passing waitresses and the sharp smells of ale, blood and unwashed bodies. 

“Sure, your Worship!” Jan said, passing the half-elf the bottle of wine standing in front of him, and then conjuring up a spare glass. “Here, have a clean one.” 

“Everything…everything is well, my lady,” Anomen said. “How could it not be, once we have been graced with the pleasure of your company?” 

The bard’s eyes widened a little with sudden surprise, but then she gave him a warm smile that made him feel very big, very clumsy and very hot. _Courtly. Dignified. Chivalrous. Calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean…_

“That’s a very nice thing to say!” Zaerini said. “Thanks!” 

Anomen considered saying something about how she was probably unused to polite people but thought better of it. He really didn’t want to drag Edwin into the conversation. It would only spoil the mood. “Ah…you seem very happy tonight my lady.” _Please don’t let it be the wizard…_

“Sure! Jaheira is free of her curse, and tomorrow she should be back to normal.” The bard sipped contentedly from the glass of wine, then leaned back in her chair with a satisfied smile. “Edwin and I just…” 

_I’ll kill him if he’s touched her!_

“…shared some nice spell scrolls…” 

_Oh. Very well, the villain may live. For now._

“…and I’ve just made up a new song!” 

Now, this was a much better topic than the Red Wizard. “A song, my lady?” Anomen asked, leaning forward with interest. Would that I could take her hand, just for a little bit, but I dare not presume too much. “Might we be granted the pleasure of hearing it?” 

“Sure, if you want. It’s a little rough yet, but if you don’t mind that…” 

“My lady, I am used to battle songs.” 

“Oh. I suppose that’s true. All right then. See, I just happened to think about how odd it is that there seem to be so many stupid people about in the world, doing these preposterous things, as if they’re just begging to get killed, you know? So, I made up a song about some of the things I’ve seen and heard about. It’s called ‘Moronic’.”

“Your gentle voice will…’Moronic’?”

“Yep. Now don’t interrupt me, all right?” Zaerini put her glass down after one final sip, cleared her throat and started singing. 

_A paladin tried to make me conform  
He raised up his sword – in a thunderstorm   
It’s a Cyricist who thinks he’ll Ascend   
It’s the Iron Throne thugs, who thought I would bend   
Isn’t it moronic? _

_It’s assassins walking straight up to me  
Shouting out ‘I am Death come for thee’  
It’s Old Pointy Hat’s meddling – completely for free  
And that’s moronic _

_Mr Big Flaming Fist thought he was very tough  
He pulled on his armor and tried to play rough  
Meant to murder a Drow, charged without asking ‘how?’  
Never paused to think when our party he saw  
And as he died he cried ‘But..I am the LAW!’   
Isn’t it moronic? _

_Well, life likes tossing pies in your face  
Regardless of age or profession or race  
And life sometimes gives you a pie for a tool  
When the one before you is the bigger fool   
A dashing fool with twin scimitars on   
Sparkling bright until they were suddenly gone  
And that’s moronic_

_It’s electing Big Bro for your next Grand Duke  
To replace the last one who mysteriously croaked  
It’s stating you’ll kill me if I won’t be perfectly good   
As if that would put me   
In a nice friendly mood   
Isn’t’ that moronic?_

_It’s assassins walking straight up to me_  
Shouting out ‘I am Death come for thee’  
It’s Old Pointy Hat’s meddling – completely for free 

_Moronic!_

The bard finished her song, beaming brightly at her friends, cheeks a little flushed. A smattering of applause broke out here and there within the tavern, and she recognized it by getting up on top of her chair and giving the audience a regal bow, then proceeded to gather the money passed her way. “So, how do you like it?” she asked once she had sat down again. 

“Very nice!” Jan stated. “Lacks a certain turnip element, but otherwise very nice!” 

“Aye,” Anomen said, not taking his eyes off the woman in front of him. “I…cannot say I entirely agree with everything but…but t’was most captivating.” 

“Thank you!” Zaerini said, winking at him. “I’ll corrupt you yet, Ano, just you give me enough time…”

_I think you may have already_ , Anomen thought. _But…at the moment I cannot seem to bring myself to care…_


	31. It’s Raining Quests

**Cards Reshuffled 31 – It’s Raining Quests**

_It is certainly good to have your party members take initiatives of their own. However, sometimes I really wish they’d limit themselves to taking initiatives that I have already approved._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“My lady,” Anomen eagerly asked, “How much do you know of my Order of the Most Radiant Heart?”

_Uh Oh…_ Zaerini thought, taking another sip of her wine to give herself a moment to think. _Let’s see…somehow I don’t think I ought to bring up that Helmite who got himself struck by lightning when he tried to attack me. The hint in the song was enough._ “A little,” she said. _Nice, diplomatic answer._

Anomen looked even more pleased than before, and he smiled earnestly at her, looking almost boyish. “You have heard of it? That is good. I have always been in awe of the Order, ever since I was a child...a force of righteous knights and paladins in a brotherhood of arms. We exist to serve, but we follow no commands yet those of our hearts and our conscience. 'Tis a rare thing that can stand up to the full array of the Order's armies, my lady.” He frowned briefly. “I do not understand why the Order does not take control of the Council, personally. It could do far more to turn this into a fair and equitable land, don't you think?”

_Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Politeness or honesty, that’s the question._ “Anomen, I’m not an expert on Amnian politics, and I won’t pretend to be, but I don’t really think that would be such a good idea.” 

“What? Why?” 

“Well…as it is now, Amn is ruled by money, right? Not very nice, but at least I know where I stand with money. But I wouldn’t want to be ruled by the Order and their ideas of goodness, let me tell you that. How do you suppose they feel about me for example?” 

Anomen frowned, looking concerned. “My lady?”

“I’m a Bhaalspawn, remember?” Rini whispered. “Plenty of those self-proclaimed ‘good’ folk in the Order would like nothing better than overseeing my execution. At least the Council doesn’t mind, as long as I have money.” 

“No…I cannot believe that! You are not evil, my lady, nobody could believe that!” 

The half-elf sighed. Anomen might be a few years older than she was, but right now she felt about twice his age. “Let’s not talk anymore about it right now. But promise me you won’t discuss my parentage with any of your friends in the Order. I trust _you_ , but I’d rather not trust them.”

“Of course, my lady. My word is my bond.” 

It was at this moment that Jan returned to the table with another tray of drinks. However, it seemed that he had also managed to find himself some company. A dwarven warrior in sturdy chainmail was marching along behind the gnome, giving surly glares to anybody who passed to close by him. Few people did, which may have been at least partially caused by the large axe he carried. The dwarf had a dour face and his dark and braided beard was flecked with gray, showing him to be into his middle years. 

“Good news!” Jan said, sounding very chirpy. “Now that the druid is well again, we’ll need another commission, and it looks like I’ve gone and found us one. This fine dwarven gentleman is Korgan Bloodaxe, and he’s in need of an adventuring party to help him out with something.” 

“Drink hail!” the dwarf said in a thickly accented voice. “Wassail for all! I be curious, friends. I'm scouring for a band of desperate men to aid me in a gallant task. Ye look like ye keep undertakers in a brisk trade. 'Ave ye courage and time fer a tale?”

“Undertakers?” Anomen protested, sounding insulted. “Certainly not, we are champions for goodness and righteousness and…” Then only a few muffled protests escaped as Rini clasped her hand across his mouth. 

“Excuse him, please,” the half-elf said and winked to the dwarf. “Too much to drink.” She fervently hoped that Korgan wouldn’t notice that Anomen’s cup contained plain carrot juice. It would be a shame if the dwarf took off in disgust before she heard what he was offering. 

“Blasted bloody lily-livered humans,” Korgan scoffed and climbed onto a chair. “Cannae take their drink, what good are they?” He opened his mouth and shouted ‘ALE!’ in a voice to make the rafters of the Copper Coronet tremble. When a startled serving girl scurried over with a foaming tankard, he drank deeply from it, then used his hand to wipe the foam from his beard. “Aaaaaahhhh! Belly up, comrades, and let Korgan flail the bladder for a spell. A fortnight past, me fellows and I were in the midst of obtaining an ancient text fer our patron when a skirmish visited our midst. Vile words, alas, became a lake of bloodshed. So it goes the sacred grimoire ne'er made it to our benefactors hand. And now he awaits its arrival with a zeal reserved for a grog-blossom in an alekeg. The scuttlebutt is the pay is handsome and worthy of note--sacks of loot and odd magics. The volume sits not far from 'ere and the bibliomaniac he paces the floor in the meantime.”

_A grimoire, is it?_ Rini thought. _Could be lucrative._ “Who would we be working for?” she asked. “And what kind of book is it?” 

The dwarf lowered his voice a little. “Pimlico collects books just fer the pleasure of collecting. Arcane, bizarre, peculiar; it matters not. Upon hearin' of a curious map, chart or book e's travelled countless leagues to obtain it, fearful of entrusting his commission to anyone else. This were his first outside hire. As fer the book itself, it nay matters to me what lays 'twixt its skins. I'll not risk knowing I've bled for Elminster's memoirs or a Drizzt loblolly recipe. 'Tis called the Book of Kaza.”

_Never heard of it. Eddie might know though; I’ll have to ask him. Sounds like a good deal at least._

“Where is this book then, my axe-wielding friend?” Jan asked. “Somewhere involving dungeons maybe? Maybe even…dragons?” 

Korgan swallowed yet another large mouthful of beer before answering. “In some hobnail's tomb over in the lower crypts of the Grave District. It's nay abandoned but rumors and half-truths only scare the young and infirm. Keeps the curious away, me guess.”

_Could be there are undead there. But I’ve fought undead before, I can do it again._ “All right then!” Rini said. “We’ll be joinin’ ye to plunder this tomb o’ its riches…er…that is, it’s a deal.” She watched the dwarf spit on his palm and hold his hand out to her, mentally shrugged and did the same thing, then felt her fingers go numb in a crushing grip. _At least he’s likely to be a good fighter._

“That it be!” Korgan said, a pleased grin appearing somewhere inside the massive beard. “I’ll be meetin’ ye on the morrow, down the graveyard. Keep yer weapons sharp, and we’ll have ourselves a fun little killin’ spree with the deadies. Har!” 

“Sounds good to me. I’ll look forward to seeing you in action.” 

“So ye should, lassie, so ye should! This ol’ dwarf be the fiercest Battle Rager ye’ll ever see, an’ even the weakest could lop yer skinny little neck off in one blow.” 

“Oh. How…reassuring.” _Battle Rager, is it? And he’s a dwarf. I think I’ve just found myself the ‘Rage’ card. Now let’s see where he leads me._

“My lady,” Anomen protested as soon as Korgan had disappeared into the crowd again, “I have grave misgivings about this venture. That…that unwashed creature assuredly cannot be trusted!” 

“Oh, come on, Ano!” Jan said. “Sure, he’s a little whiffy, but who isn’t? Well, I’m not, but that’s due to Jan Jansen’s patented Odor Repellent, of course. I use it all the time. Just rub some in my nose and I can’t even scent you sitting right next to me.” 

“Why you little…” 

“Never mind,” Rini interrupted. “Anomen, we’re going to be working with Korgan, not marrying him. What’s the big deal? Unless you want to kill him over an issue of personal hygiene? No? Good thing, as Jan says we’re likely to get pretty smelly ourselves on the road.” 

“That may well be the case, my lady, but hopefully we will not reach quite those levels of scruffiness. You would think the fellow had never heard of a beard comb…” 

-*-

Meanwhile, Edwin had finished inscribing his new scrolls into his spellbook and was preparing to come downstairs to join the others, feeling very pleased with himself. Not a single spell had been lost, and now his powers would be even greater than before. _No demon summoning spell yet though…such a shame. But just wait, my day will come!_

As he got up from his table, it was with some surprise that he found himself staring into a pair of steady green eyes. Softpaws was sitting on the floor, watching him. The cat certainly seemed to get into any place she wanted, and never mind locked doors or windows. “Well, hello to you!” he said, bending down to stroke the feline along the back, earning himself a contented purr. “And where’s your mistress, hmm? (Obviously not where I would prefer her to be, which is right here, and more specifically, on my…)” 

_She’s downstairs_ , the cat spoke inside his mind. _So is Anomen._

“What?! I’ll…” 

_And so is Jan. Don’t worry, she’s only having a drink._

“That is what you say, but I know his sort! The pompous, uptight, self-important, bragging fool! He’s been after her since the very beginning, I can tell! Probably just wants to bag somebody with elven blood, these humans are all alike, you know.” 

_You are human._

“Well, except for me! (And maybe a rare few others, but that’s not the point.) Anyway, he doesn’t deserve her. Only I do. The perfect woman deserves nothing less than the perfect man.” 

_Then go court her properly, male! Preen, make yourself big, yowl loudly in the night…_

“Yowl? I’ll have you know my singing is perfectly in tune, and just as superior as the rest of my talents. I could have been a professional singer, you know. (Except for that traumatic experience at the Opera House.)” 

_You yowl. But that’s what cats do, it’s all right. Also, you could try grooming her._

Now, this sounded very promising. “Grooming her?” 

_How about giving her a good lick when she least expects it? That should tell her you’re serious._

Edwin tried to visualize this scenario. It was tempting, oh so very tempting. Eventually though, sense won out over desire. “No. Much as it would please me to do so, it is still too early for that. (And she would probably sock me in the nose.)” 

_How about hunting? Go kill something really big and dangerous for her, preferably something nice to eat!_

“Well…that I could do! I am after all extremely well read about various monsters and dangerous creatures, and none of them are deadlier than I. (And then there’s the Nether Scroll…now that should also properly impress her.)” 

_Then go to it, wizard! I’ll come with you to make sure you don’t mess things up._

However, once Edwin got downstairs, he had hardly started looking around for Zaerini before a stranger approached him. It was a tall man with a haughty look on his face, and he was wearing an extremely gaudy red tunic covered with gold embroidery. Edwin instantly adored it. “You there,” the man said, “I would have a word with you. I am called Lord Jierdan Firkraag, and I bid you stand a moment and hear what I offer.” His voice was just as arrogant as his face was. “You are traveling with a certain Zaerini of Candlekeep, are you not?” 

“And why would you think that?” Edwin asked. He had no idea who this stranger was, and excellent taste in clothing or not, he wasn’t about to trust him. 

“I know much, Edwin Odesseiron. My eyes see far, and right now they like what they see. Yes, I know who you are, and your friend. I see you both as capable and headstrong, with the ability to handle what e'er is thrown at you. Just the type of creatures that I am looking for.”

_At least the man is properly informed of my great skill_ , Edwin thought. _And that of my Hellkitten of course_. “You have done your research well,” he said. “What do you need of me? (Probably some ludicrously simple task that will be an insult to ask of a man of my talents.)” 

Firkraag smiled, showing a row of very white teeth. It seemed a friendly smile, but it never quite reached his eyes. “A moment of your time,” he said, “and I will explain it all to you. Now that I have met you, I certainly believe we will be able to reach an agreement…” 

-*- 

Jaheira, too, had gone downstairs, but had taken care to wear an obscuring cloak that concealed her from her friends. She didn’t feel up to any more fussing, not after Minsc having put her to bed in a very undignified manner. But a person could only sleep for so long, and now she felt the urge to move about a little. She was already much stronger, almost herself again. 

Right now, the druid was speaking to Lethinan, the rat faced owner of the Copper Coronet, trying to hide her distaste. This was business, not pleasure. Harper business, despite not having been given it through official channels. But Bernard was an old and trusted friend, and he had warned her that he suspected there were bad things going on at the Copper Coronet, things that happened between locked doors. He had urged her to look into it, and she would do so. _It is the right thing to do. I am certain Zaerini will see that. Besides, now that Ployer has been dealt with we need some other mission._

“Other…entertainments?” Jaheira asked, in response to one of Lethinan’s evasive comments. “That does sound interesting. Please, tell me more.” 

“Hrrrrmmm…you want to find out for yourself,” the man said with an unpleasant smile that was probably meant to be conspiratorial. “Bernard has vouched for you and your friends, and a small…entrance fee…will take care of the rest. Talk to the guards at the back of the room, and you will soon have all the…entertainment…you desire.” 

“Very well,” Jaheira said. “I believe I shall do just that, and soon.” 

-*- 

And what of Minsc? Minsc was very happy, and so was Boo. Jaheira was well again, his Witch was happy, and Boo was safe from the greedy hands of that sneaky little gnome. All was well with the world if his Boo was happy, his Witch was happy, and his other friends were happy as well. Yes, he was even happy enough to try being nice to the Evil Wizard, since that was what his Witch wanted, silly though it seemed. But he would try all the same, now that he had been out to buy a big supply of nuts for Boo. 

However, before Minsc could reach the table where his friends were sitting, somebody tugged hard at his shirt, making him stop in his track. It was a fairly tall young girl with reddish-blonde hair and blue eyes. Her blue riding dress marked her as a noblewoman, but it was dusty and torn here and there, and her hair was a little ruffled. “Is anyone willing to hear my plea?” she asked in a loud voice that had a plaintive whine to it. “Anyone? You all know me, I've helped some of you! Is this the thanks I get? I've helped lots of _your_ kind!” As pleading as the words sounded, they still had a distinct note of command to them, as if the girl was used enough to getting things done her way that she had real problems fathoming the fact that people were ignoring her. 

“Minsc is always happy to help!” Minsc said. “Just tell me what is wrong, little girl, and Minsc and Boo will be Heroes for you.” 

For the first time in several days, Nalia De’Arnise smiled. 

-*-

“So let’s see if I get this straight,” Zaerini said, watching her friends incredulously. The adventurers were gathered up in her room, in order to plan for the day ahead, and she had been hit with one surprise after the other over the cause of the past few minutes. “You,” she pointed at Jaheira, “have promised Bernard that we’ll go check out some unspecified ‘evil plot’ in the backrooms of the Copper Coronet.” 

“That is correct,” Jaheira said, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “As I have told you, Bernard is a friend of the Harpers, and has provided us with much important information in the past. He may not know exactly what is afoot, but his hunches have always proved valuable.” 

“Right. Let’s hope that the reward he’s offering is valuable as well.”

“Reward?”

“Yes. For saving _Imoen_.” The bard waited expectantly for a few seconds. “All right. No reward offered. Let’s put that quest aside for now, shall we? Let’s hear the details from the rest of you. Eddie, you mentioned something about ogres?”

The Red Wizard nodded. “Yes. A local nobleman, Lord Firkraag, has apparently had his land infested with orcs and ogres and is willing to offer us no less than 10000 gold for clearing them out. (And if that doesn’t impress her, I don’t know what will. What did the Helmite do while I was contributing to our cause, I wonder? Gorge himself on more disgusting carrot juice?)”

“It does sound good,” Rini said, absent-mindedly scratching Softpaws beneath her chin. The cat’s purring sounded as loud as that of a tiger. “Maybe a little too good. I know Athkatla is called the City of Coin, and maybe this Firkraag is as wealthy as Waukeen herself, but I don’t see why he’d offer us that much.” 

“Well, obviously he was impressed with my fearsome reputation as a grand and highly intimidating wizard! (And possibly with her as well. The man had wonderful taste in clothes, it would make sense that he would have taste in other matters also.)” 

“Oh, of course,” Rini said, giving the wizard a crooked grin. “That explains it, you think? But I still wonder a little bit. And it’s also quite a distance from here to this place he mentioned; I checked it on the map. Maybe he’s some sort of agent for the Cowlies, or even Irenicus, trying to get us out of the way. So, I say that we check it out, but carefully, and not immediately. He didn’t give a time limit, did he?”

“No.”

“That’s all right then. Now, Minsc. What’s this about some girl and a castle?” 

Minsc looked up from his seat on the floor, where he was trying to trim Boo’s claws. The hamster was protesting violently and had already come close to biting him, but he didn’t seem to worry. “Minsc found a Hero Quest for his new witch! Saving a girl from a castle…no, wait. Saving a castle for a girl it should be. Poor Nalia had to run away to get help, and the Forces of Hamsterhating Evil are drooling to get their nasty teeth into her family.” 

“What kind of Forces of Evil would these be? Dragons? Goblins? Or something in-between?”

“Miss Nalia didn’t say.” 

Rini quietly put her head into her hands. _Of course she didn’t. Because no doubt she was afraid that nobody would be stupid enough to take the job unless she conned them into it. Well, at least Minsc said before that she offered a great reward. I just hope it will be a monetary one, rather than a pat on the head. Nobles can be extremely tight wadded._ “Right,” she said. “That may be a good job, or it may not. But I also promised Korgan to go find that book, so we’ll do that first, especially since this ‘De’Arnise Keep’ is also out of town, if a bit closer than the Windspear Hills. Then we go see exactly what she wants us to do, and if it’s worth it, and we’ll save Firkraag’s ogres and the Harper thing for later.” _I suppose I should be grateful for all these people suddenly showering me with potential work, but it’s just a little bit too much all at once._

_Don’t worry kitten_ , Softpaws said, batting her with a paw in order to get more thoroughly petted. _You’ve only seen a tiny bit of Athkatla yet, I’m sure there’ll be plenty more to come._

_Thanks for the encouragement._

_You are welcome. That is what familiars are for, after all._

_I thought they were for eating large amounts of food, occupying my pillow, shedding all over my clothes and interfering with my love life?_

_That too, kitten. That too._

The adventurers set out for the Graveyard district of Athkatla the next morning, and as they approached, Zaerini found that it was rather more than she had expected. In her mind she had been envisioning something like the small cemetery in Nashkel, or perhaps the one in Baldur’s Gate. But this was no mere cemetery. This was a city, an entire city of the dead, set in the middle of the one belonging to the living. 

There was no obvious symmetry to the place. Small tombstones and grave markings stood right next to enormous tombs, and crypts large enough to house a family of ten, and the gravel paths between the tombs wound here and there in confusing patterns, making it quite easy to get lost in the necropolis. In between the tallest crypts and monuments, the sun never quite seemed to reach the ground. There were statues too, tall marble angels and demons, standing guard over the silent inhabitants of this place. There was a pause for a few moments as the adventurers stood watching at the entrance to the cemetery. “Well,” Rini finally said. “Let’s just say I’m not that eager to visit here at night.” 

“Have no fear, my lady!” Anomen said. “Should it become necessary, I will call upon the power of Helm to repel all dread creatures of the night.” 

“That shouldn’t be too difficult a feat,” Edwin remarked in a voice practically dripping acid. “After all, the stench of your breath is quite enough to repel us all already. In the future, I will not waste any time on memorizing Cloud Kill, I will simply command you to exhale at our enemies and they will drop like flies.” 

“Take care how you address me, foul mage! I know your kind all too well, I would not be surprised to see you consorting with creatures of darkest magic.” 

“Oh, nothing wrong with that,” Jan said, “even if it’s not something gnomes tend to do, not being given to Necromancy you see. But that doesn’t mean we don’t enjoy a good party, and I’m sure you know that while Good may be very virtuous and all that, Evil gives all the best parties. In fact, my nephew Mortimer Jansen used to work in the Evil Catering business, providing food, drink and entertainment for Evil Overlords, wicked sorceresses, liches, Dark Gods, you name it. Worked all over the planes, he did.”

“Ah,” Anomen desperately tried, “I believe it is time for us to go slay some evil and…” 

“And let me tell you,” Jan went on, “it’s a tricky business to be in. Young Mortimer found that out when he accidentally confused two orders, and delivered two Volcano Pizzas and a keg of beer to the alien slug-like crime lord of a desert planet rather than to the geeky, mind controlling multimillionaire and techno-wiz of some boring little planet called ‘Dirt’ or something like that.”

Edwin’s eyes were looking a little glazed by now. “What,” he said, clearly trying to seize upon one thread of the conversation in order to make sense of it, “are pizzas?” 

The gnome gave him an indulgent grin. “Come now, Eddie my boy, and you call yourself a mage? Clearly there’s still a lot you need to learn about the Five Elements that make up everything around us. Air, Water, Earth, Fire and Pizza, as simple as that. And you haven’t seen anything until you’ve summoned yourself a Pizza Elemental, the ones with extra cheese are the most powerful of all, they can really…” 

“I don’t care about cheese!” Anomen almost screamed. 

“But you’re not a mage either, Ano. Me and Eddie, we know about the power of cheese, don’t we, Eddie?” He wrapped his arm about the Red Wizard’s waist in a companionable gesture, as Edwin feverishly tried to pry him away. “But I think I’m getting away from the topic,” Jan said, “and I wouldn’t want you to think me a rambler. So, the slug-like crime lord was really disappointed when he didn’t get the golden-bikinied dancing girl and the coal-encrusted smuggler he’d ordered, and he took it all out on poor Mortimer.”

“I really, really understand him,” Edwin muttered. “Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a Power word Kill spell, right about now. (Or a really good pair of earplugs.)” 

“Dropped poor young Mortimer down a trapdoor and into a nasty dark pit he did,” Jan said. “Morty only narrowly escaped being eaten by the giant mutated lizard monster living there by ramming both pizzas down its throat, making it choke on the cheese. And he always swore afterwards that the beastie’s breath was enough to make his nose hairs curl up in disgust, which is of course what you reminded me of, Ano.” 

Zaerini felt a tug at her sleeve, and Anomen gave her a frantic look, his face contorted with frustration. “My lady,” he said. “May I kill him? Please?” 

“No,” the bard said. “Just ignore him and he won’t find it nearly so amusing.” 

Anomen sighed deeply. “May Helm give me strengh…” he muttered. 

After a short while Korgan appeared, looking just as scruffy in daylight as he had the previous evening. Rini wasn’t fooled by his appearance though. She could tell that the axe he covered was in excellent condition, as was his armor. “Good morrow to ye, me fine blood lusty comrades!” the dwarf bellowed in a voice that made a small marble dove tremble and crash to the ground from its perch on top of a tomb. “It be time to go shoppin’ for some treasure, and ye’d better be up to the task or the critters below may be getting’ themselves a fine mornin’ meal. Har!” 

“And good morning to you too, Korgan,” Rini said in a calm voice. “How nice to see you.” 

The dwarf gave her an approving grin. “Not scared o’ some noise and bluster, are ye girlie? There may be hope for ye yet, despite havin’ elf blood.” 

“Elf blood or not, I’ve seen scarier things than you, Korgan.” The bard favored the dwarf with a small smile and made a point of displaying her sword. “And now, let’s go find ourselves some reading material – unless you’re still waiting for me to issue some girlish little scream.” 

-*-

_Elsewhere…_

“EEEEEK!” Aerie screamed, putting her best tremble into her voice. As usual, it had the desired effect. 

“My darling!” the young fop she had collected earlier at the Mithrest Inn exclaimed. “Are you all right? Is something the matter?”

“Ooooh…” Aerie moaned, pointing at the ground a little way into the dark alley the pair was currently walking through. “A…a n-nasty, icky dead rat, right there! It…it scared me! I…I don’t think I can walk p-past it, I am too…too sensitive to see such ugliness!” Unless you’re counting the rat tails I use for the basic monster summoning spell, but let’s not mention those right now, shall we? 

“Of course, my darling,” the young man in the rich clothes said, bending over a little. “I shall remove this disgusting…” 

The alley was briefly illuminated by a bright flash of light, and then there was a loud thud as something dropped heavily to the ground. Finally, Aerie thought as she bent over the corpse. I wouldn’t have been able to stand his dull chatter for a single second more without puking all over him. Now let us see what he can provide. Deftly, the Avariel searched the dead man’s pockets, relieving him of his heavy purse, his jewels and his silk handkerchief. Then she opened his mouth, there was a disgusting crunching, tearing noise, and she wrapped a small object up in the handkerchief and put it inside the purse. _A gold tooth. How vulgar. Useful, though._

Aerie knew that she needed to increase her funds if her new plan would stand any chance of success. A powerbase needed to be built up, and for that she needed money. Fortunately, money was relatively easy to come by, when you were possessed of an innocent face, a meek little voice, and a mind like a poisoned steel trap. The city was ripe with fools like this one, ready for the plucking. Then, once she had the funds she needed, she would be able to move on to the next stage of the plan. But for now, there was a corpse to dispose of. It wouldn’t do to let it be seen that this man had been killed by magic. Fortunately, there was an excellent scapegoat, right here in the Bridge District. 

_Poor little Skinner Killer_ , Aerie thought as she quietly chanted another spell. Blood poured forth from the dead body in gushing floods as skin was slowly peeled back, revealing quivering red muscles, yellow fatty tissue and white tendons. Quite a pretty picture. Or at least a colorful one. _Won’t he be surprised to learn that he has claimed another victim, and without even remembering it…_ She picked up and neatly folded the pale, flapping skin, using another spell to remove the blood, and then stuffed it into her handbag. Obviously, it wouldn’t do to leave the skin at the scene, so she would have to take it with her and destroy it later. Tempting as it was to use it as a cover for her spellbook, that would be just a little bit obvious. _I only wish I could have skinned him alive, for the glory of my Mistress, succoring his delicious pain. But at least his death will aid me towards my future goal, and that should please her more still. Yes…once my enemies scream with delicious pain, then my Mistress will be very pleased._


	32. Buried Alive

**Cards Reshuffled 32 – Buried Alive**

_Being buried alive has to be one of the most uncomfortable demises imaginable. Given that I feel that, it should come as no big surprise that I always seem to wind up down dark tunnels, narrow sewers, or other assorted monster-infested holes in the ground. Let’s face it – most of the gods seem to hate me. That’s the only plausible reason for it._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

As the party moved deeper into the graveyard, Zaerini pondered her new acquaintance. She hadn’t known all that many dwarves. There had been old Reevor back in Candlekeep of course, who had been so very fond of employing her as a rat killer down in the stables. _Fitting, I suppose, for somebody able to change into a cat at will. Though I wish I could see his face if he found out about the kind of things I kill these days._ And then there had been her friend Yeslick, the kindly old dwarven cleric of Clangeddin, whom she had found imprisoned deep within the Cloakwood Mines, held captive by the Iron Throne. 

At first glance, the good-natured and orderly Yeslick seemed as different from the ill-tempered and seemingly slovenly Korgan as the day to the night. And yet, somehow, she got the impression that there was more to Korgan than first met the eye. For one thing, even though he looked scruffy, he certainly took good care of his equipment, something that hinted that he was indeed the experienced mercenary he claimed to be. And cranky as he was, there was something about him that she couldn’t help liking. Perhaps it was the way he always said exactly whatever came into his head. Idly she wondered what Yeslick would have thought. Her old friend had left the group after Sarevok’s death, returning to his distant kin. _He was lucky to do so. That spared him the tender attentions of Irenicus._

It was at this moment that the bard’s musings were interrupted by a horrific gurgling moan, seemingly rising from within the very ground. Wild-eyed, she looked about, seeing that her friends were readying their weapons. Clearly, they were as startled as she was. Then there was another moan, and another one, rising from a heap of newly dug dirt. _No. A grave._

“What evil is this?” Minsc cried out. “The dead won’t rest, but make loud noises, kicking their blankets off? That will not do! Lullaby and goodnight, Evil, Minsc and Boo come to tuck you in!” 

“Stand clear, my lady!” Anomen said, stepping in front of her, shield raised. “The might of Helm shall protect you!” 

“Move aside, lackey!” Edwin scoffed, shoving the squire in the side, then wincing slightly as he rubbed his aching knuckles. “She is powerful enough that she needn’t hide behind the whining prayers of a man with the intellectual capacity of a common tape-worm, and the brains and personality to match.” 

“Quiet, both of you!” Jaheira ordered, approaching the grave. “I sense no unnatural taint here, as I would if there were undead about. There is a living creature down there. I suggest we start digging.” 

A few minutes later, a very dirty young man crawled out of the grave, his eyes frantic with fear. He had been shut inside a coffin, tightly bound and gagged. “Oh…bless you my lady, bless you!” he coughed. “The air would not have lasted much longer…” 

“Who are you?” Rini asked. “And what happened to you?”

“I…I was kidnapped!” the young man said. “Abducted by strange men, and when my family had paid the ransom, they buried me alive, to get rid of me!” 

“All men must go in the ground,” Minsc said, “but putting them there while they are alive is very wrong! Please, little Rini, say that we will find the evil ones who did this and put them in graves instead!” 

“It is a horrible thing to do to anybody,” the bard said, “but there are other things we must do. Won’t the City Guard be able to handle this?” 

The young man shook his head. “Oh no…I can’t report this! These men…they know where I live! They will take vengeance on me and my family if I report this, terrible vengeance! Please…if you find them and take them to justice, I will make certain you are richly rewarded!” 

“Now, this is starting to sound more like it,” Edwin said. “We will require exactly the same as the kidnappers got, is that clear? (And it had better be worth it, or this fool may take another dirtnap.)” 

The young man nodded eagerly. “Yes, of course!” he said. “When you have the evidence of these men’s deaths, come see me in the Government District. My name is Tirdir, Tirdir Darman.”

“Fine,” Rini said. “We will see to it when we have the time. What can you tell us about these kidnappers?”

“There were three of them. I only saw one, the youngest, the one who set me up. He was wearing bright red clothes, the reddest I have ever seen.” He gave Edwin a worried glance. “Begging your pardon, sir.” Then he held up a small bit of red cloth. “I found this clutched in my hand, I think I must have torn it off of him. It may help you, perhaps.” 

“Aye, it should be simple enough,” Anomen said. “We need only examine the wizard’s clothing; no doubt he is the exact villain we seek.” 

“Unimaginative dullard,” Edwin sneered. “I do not need to resort to such crude methods of killing. Incinerating a human body is much faster and leaves less traces than burying somebody alive. (And I am starting to feel very much in the mood to experiment…)” 

“Och,” Korgan said. “Let’s be savin’ such for after we find yon book. Then ye two laddies may kill each other to yer little hearts’ content, and I be happy to watch ye go about it, as long as I have somethin’ to snack on in the meantime. Such as yer little hearts. Har!” 

The mage and the cleric glared quietly at one another, and though they said no more, it was clear that they did not consider the subject closed by any means. 

Korgan led the party to one particular tomb, one with a rather odd, triangular roof, and statues outside depicting strange gods that Rini didn’t recognize. At least she presumed they were gods. The animal heads made hear a little unsure, but gods could wear whatever they pleased, she supposed. _At least they look better than Dear Old Daddy._ Once Jan had picked the lock, the adventurers soon descended into the murky depths below. 

It soon became apparent that the tomb was only the beginning, a gate into a veritable maze of dark and winding tunnels, deep below the graveyard. The air was heavy and oppressive, and only the mage lights that Zaerini, Edwin and Jan had conjured provided even the faintest light. Jan’s light proved rather erratic though. It had a pretty way of shimmering in all the colors of the rainbow, but it tended to suddenly start spinning in circles around the gnome’s head, or to shoot off down some unexplored passage, looking for fun. Jan himself was currently kept very busy disarming a nasty trap, one that he claimed would cause a large slab of stone to crush everybody in the vicinity if it went off. 

“That is actually one very cheap way of getting slimmer,” he remarked. “Very permanent too. My cousin Osbert would have been very interested in trying it out. He was the fattest gnome you ever saw, ate twenty turnip pies before breakfast and kept yelling for more. He tried everything to lose weight. Dieting and eating only nineteen turnip pies, exercising by letting the City Guards chase him around the block…nothing worked. Eventually he chanced upon this elderly vampire who specialized in fat suction. “

“Fat…suction?” Jaheira said. 

“Sure! You know how most vampires suck blood? This one sucked fat. Far more lucrative, people would pay him to gorge himself on them, you know. And that’s what cousin Osbert tried. The vampire tied him to a table, there was a brief sting and a terrible slurping sound…” 

“And then he died, I suppose,” the druid said. 

“No, no. It worked beautifully. Only problem was, he wound up with so much loose skin hanging in folds all over him that he couldn’t see, and he was run over by a cart the moment he left the clinic. He might have done that to begin with. Same result, and he would have left his poor grieving relatives a greater inheritance than a bonus clip card granting a free nosejob, which was the vampire’s second specialty.” 

“I can see why that might be useful,” Edwin said, glancing at the gnome’s large and fleshy proboscis. 

“That’s what I thought too,” Jan said, “but sadly enough the vampire was unable to make my nose any bigger. Oh well, the Jansen charm will have to be enough…” 

As the adventurers progressed deeper into the tunnel, Rini suddenly felt a light tug at her sleeve, and as she turned her head, she found Edwin walking next to her, looking very excited about something. “Hear me,” he whispered. “The time has come to tell you something of great importance, something that you and only you are worthy of knowing beforehand. (It is not as if I trust any of these chimps not to use the precious thing to blow their runny noses in.)” 

“Yes, Edwin? What is it?” 

The mage lowered his voice even more, so that even the half-elf’s keen ears had to make an effort to hear him, and there was a hungry gleam in his eyes. “I remember something of this place... there are soothsayers and conjurers that whisper in hushed tones about an artifact lost to antiquity... (but not so lost to a perceptive mage.) I've heard rumors, and done a little reading on the subject... Many have muttered the name in frustration... the Nether Scroll.”

“The Nether Scroll, is it?” The bard gave her companion a curious look. “I believe I’ve heard of that, yes. A magical artifact of immense power. You truly believe you have found it?”

“Yes, and yes. Of course, no artifact is too powerful for my unmatched magical prowess and my razor-sharp intellect. (And it will get me just what I want too. Phenomenal cosmic powers, and life and youth eternal – to enable me to forever remain my current flawless self, all the better for her to enjoy, and vice versa of course.)” 

“Yeah…but are you sure you know how to deal with it? It’s just that I keep remembering that statue of Kozah you filched from that other tomb, the one that summoned some kind of nasty ghost that tried to kill us all.” ¨

“Of course I know how to deal with it! I have studied it extensively, pouring over many a thick volume of forgotten lore.” The wizard smirked a little, clearly aiming for a sinister look. “Also, I had an 'intense' chat with a diviner that swore it was in Athkatla, buried among the nobles. If I... If we found it, we would be formidable indeed. The lower tombs, perhaps?”

“Intense.” 

“Yes, well…” 

“Just how ‘intense’ are we talking about here?” 

Edwin squirmed a little, looking uncomfortable. “Oh, all right. If you must know, I threatened to let the Cowled Wizards know all about his secret passion of dressing up in mundane clothing and pretending to be a non-magical person, running about in the streets with likeminded idiots pretending to be ordinary. Why any wizard would wish to participate in that sort of game I really don’t know. (Of course, I have no need for any such ‘role-playing’ seeing that I am already perfect in every way. Other, lesser beings might well benefit from trying to emulate my magnificence though.)” He gave her a hopeful look. “I might well add that he found me _extremely_ intimidating.” 

“Oh,” Rini said, smiling broadly. “I’m sure that he did. And so do I. Very…intimidating.” 

Edwin preened a little, looking extremely pleased with himself. “Yes, just you remember it. There is no terror of these dark depths more fearsome than Edwin Odesseiron, and I will obliterate them all rather than let them…” He suddenly broke off. “What was that noise?”

The half-elf turned her head towards the sound, listening. A whispery, chittering noise, as of many legs coming towards them. Many, many, many legs. Then her mage light flared up, and she saw what was heading down the corridor at full speed directly towards them, in a churning black mass of bristly backs, clicking mandibles dripping poison and hairy legs. There seemed to be several dozen of them, and some of them were as large as big dogs. “Spiders…” she said. “I’m pretty sure it was spiders.” _Now let’s just hope Tirdir will be the only one to be buried alive this day. Or buried dead, come to think of it._

Zaerini reacted instinctively at seeing the writhing mass of spiders come flooding towards her. A large ball of flame leapt from her outstretched palm, landing in the middle of the arachnid horde, and the flash to her side told her that Edwin had acted at the same time. The spiders screeched in shrill voices as they burned, and there was a horrible stench rising from the blackened bodies. Many of the spiders had been neatly burnt to little crisps by the combined magic of the Red Wizard and the bard, but a large number still remained, and by now they were too close to risk any more massive damage spells, there being a high risk of hurting the other party members instead. Rini prepared to switch from magic to blade, but just as she was about to draw her sword something large, hairy and many-legged dropped from the ceiling, clinging to her back. Making a startled gasp of surprise, she automatically tried to pry the thing off, but it clung firmly to her, refusing to let go. Then she felt a sting at the back of her neck, and a burning pain, followed by an intense wave of nausea. _Not poison again…stupid old disgusting spiders…_ Her vision was getting blurry, making it impossible to focus on casting spells, and the pain was getting worse. She was dimly aware of the sounds of combat going around her, but not of any of the details. And still the spider was stuck to her neck. Frantic to get it off, she slammed her back into the stone wall of the corridor, feeling the beast twitch, and then something thick and sticky running into the back of her tunic. _Yuck_ , she thought as she slumped to her hands and knees, heart racing furiously under the poison’s destructive influence. 

A spider approached her, its many eyes glinting black in the faint light, and she tried to get her sword out, but she was slow, so slow, and getting weaker all the time. And then a mace slammed down on the spider, flattening it into something that resembled a black, hairy pancake, if you could imagine a pancake oozing thick yellow fluids and having long legs sticking out of it. A voice chanted something, there was a steady hand on her forehead, and then she felt the mists in her head clear, and she was looking into Anomen’s face, his blue eyes dark with concern. “My lady!” he said. “How do you feel?”

“I’ve been better…but I could have been worse.” The bard smiled briefly. “Thanks, Anomen.” 

Smiling in return, the priest helped her to her feet, and since he was strong, and she was lightly built, she was practically lifted off the ground. As she got her bearings, she scanned the melee for the rest of her companions, her eyes worriedly searching for one above all the others, enough so that she failed to notice the Helmite still holding onto her elbow, hovering protectively over her. _Please don’t let Eddie have decided that he wants one of these critters for a pet…_ Then she heaved a sigh of relief as she saw the wizard hurrying towards her, his robes stained with spider gore. He was looking just as anxious as Anomen had. “Are you all right?” he asked as soon as he reached her. “I saw you fall, but before I had the time to reach you that obnoxious paladoofus-in-training was already yanking you about.” 

“I’m fine. And Anomen healed me, you know. Be nice.” 

The wizard looked as if he smelled something bad. “I suppose he has some uses then. Much the same as a compost heap. It fills a function, but you would not want it in your living room.” 

“I suppose you would have simply let her die while you thought of a wordy excuse for failing her,” Anomen retorted. 

“Take that back, helmet-head!” Edwin snarled. 

“I will ever stand fast against evil, functioning as a shining beacon of light against the darkness!” 

“Oh, I’ll make you a shining beacon all right! A few glowing coals stuffed inside that empty head, that should do nicely…” 

Rini put her palm against her face for a few moments. _Much as I care about them both, there are moments when I’d like to slap them silly._ “Guys,” she said, trying to sound patient but not being entirely successful. “I’m alive and well, all right? Stop sniping at each other, we have a job to do, remember?” 

“Aye!” Korgan agreed. “The book of Kaza is waitin’ for us, and I do nay wish to stand about with these two laddies fightin’ and squallin’ like bleedin’ babbies until me ears are ready to drop off.” 

“Yes!” Minsc said. The large ranger had been a little ahead during the fight, stomping spiders flat beneath his large feet, as well as spitting them on the Sword of Chaos. _Probably a good thing_ , Rini thought. If he had seen her hurt, he’d have been likely to react with extreme violence. “You should both try to be sensible like Minsc. Would you like Boo to help teach you about keeping calm?”

The looks on Edwin’s and Anomen’s faces were priceless. 

Eventually the tunnel opened up into a large cavern. Presumably there was a roof somewhere above them in the darkness, but it was so high up that it couldn’t be seen. Narrow walkways led here and there, and in the center of the cavern was a curious structure, that looked very much like a silken cocoon, one large enough to contain a medium sized house. “Korgan?” Zaerini asked. “Do you suppose your book might be in there?” 

The dwarf gave the structure a penetrating look, pulling thoughtfully at his braided beard. “I would nay think so…yon book should be inside the tomb proper. That be lookin’ more like some beastie’s hidey-hole. Still, we should be takin’ a look inside. Might be good treasure there, an’ it’ll keep the critter what lives there from ambushin’ us later on. Far better we ambush it first.” 

“Oh,” Jan said, “now you’re sounding a bit like my cousin Porky. Well, his real name was Georgie, but nobody called him that.”

“He was fat?” Rini asked. 

“No. Just had a swollen head. Anyway, Porky was very keen on preventing stuff. He shot the grocer to prevent him from overcharging for the turnips. He punched out the next-door neighbor to prevent him from disturbing him. He poisoned his horse to prevent it from looking at him funny. Eventually he went too far though.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Jaheira sighed. 

“Clearly because you are a perceptive woman, Jaheira! So, Porky eventually decided that the whole world hated him and was out to get him, and by that point he was right of course. He barricaded himself in his house, with an arsenal of weapons, prepared to kill anybody who came close, collapsing the walls of certain rooms behind him. Sadly, he had forgotten to arrange for supply lines from the kitchen, and he soon found himself with no food or water. He couldn’t get out the door, and he’d put bars on all the windows too. Then, he thought himself saved, as he saw somebody passing by outside!”

“And?”

“And it turned out to be the grocer that Porky had shot earlier, and the man pelted him to death with rotten eggs. Suffocated on his own vomit he did, extremely tragic.” 

“Right…” Zaerini said. “We’ll just press on for now and worry about whoever lives in that cocoon thing later, shall we?” 

Soon enough the adventurers found themselves outside a locked door leading south, and Korgan triumphantly declared that now he was certain they were on the right track. Once Jan had dealt with the lock they entered, finding themselves in a very strange place. It was a long hall, with many narrow doors along the stone walls. Beautiful mosaics on the floor depicted strange faces and animals, portrayed in a style she couldn’t quite place. Everything was very silent, and there was an anticipatory feel in the air, as if the place was waiting to see her next move. She took a few careful steps forward. Nothing happened. A few more steps. Still nothing happened. A few more steps. And then there was a horrible sound, the worst sound possible under the current circumstances, a sound to send a cold shiver of fear along her spine. It was the sound of a large number of doors opening all at once. 

Some of the creatures that came lumbering towards her from the suddenly open doors she recognized. There were a few gray skinned zombies, awkwardly dragging rotting limbs across the mosaic floor, leaving little bits of flesh behind here and there. There were ghouls and ghasts, flesh eating undead creatures that looked even more inhuman than the zombies did and that had very sharp claws. Then there were other creatures, which she hadn’t seen before. Shadowy figures, swirling patches of darkness with only vaguely humanoid forms. _Wraiths. This is not shaping up to be a good day._

The attacks were coming from all sides at once, and there was no time to prepare properly. As quickly as she could she chanted a spell, and the world seemed to slow to a crawl around her as her speed of movement increased, as did her friends’. Edwin just had time to get another Fireball off, and a pair of ghouls fell, shriveled into blackened husks. Then the Red Wizard had to narrowly dodge the attack of one of the shadow creatures, and only his swift conjuration of a few goblins saved him. The small yellow-skinned creatures soon died, but they bought the mage enough time to get out of range. Rini concentrated, sending a couple of Magic Missiles into the fray, and one of the shadows screamed and puffed into an inky black cloud of smoke as Jan joined her efforts. Jaheira’s staff was moving almost too swiftly to see, and the druid had a snarl of disgust on her face as she battled the unnatural creatures around her. Korgan and Minsc were close by, both of them roaring enraged battle cries as they plowed through the enemies, sending chunks of dead meat flying everywhere. The tide of the battle certainly seemed to be turning. Anomen was holding his Holy Symbol of Helm aloft, chanting a prayer to his god, and the weaker of the undead were nervously retreating from him, one zombie even suddenly exploding with a surprised squeak. 

And then there was somebody gripping her by the throat from behind, making her quite lose her breath, and sharp teeth were biting into her skin, drawing blood. There was a loud rush in her ears, accompanied by a muffled thumping sound. The sound of her heartbeat, she realized, growing slower…fainter. The pain at her throat was cold, so very cold, and she could feel her vision going. There were lips next to her skin, lips like icicles, and something was sucking at the wound. _Sucking…my blood._ She tried to struggle, to resist, but her limbs were growing weaker by the moment, and it was hard to think properly. The thing that was holding her was dragging her backwards, towards one of the doors, clearly intending to get away with her before her friends had the time to discover what had happened. She couldn’t even scream. Or at least…not with her mouth. 

_Softpaws! Get help!_

The cat’s presence in her mind was a wordless hiss of anger and fear, but she thought she had got the message through. Then she felt herself lifted off the ground, strong arms carrying her, and her head lolled backwards, hot blood trickling down her throat. The upside-down world her fading eyes were seeing danced about her, reduced to incomprehensible swirling colors. Vaguely she was aware of her hair hanging down behind her. It had got longer during her stay in Irenicus’ dungeon, and she hadn’t had time to cut it yet. Funny, the things you could notice when you were about to die. 

Somewhere behind her people were screaming, but the words were only a roar in her head, a roar choked off by the thunder of her heart, and now the door was slamming shut behind her with a sound like the stone slap closing off a tomb. The thing that was carrying her was running far too swiftly for a human, taking her deeper into the shadows beneath the Graveyard District. _No. Not human. Vampire. I’m alone in the dark with a vampire…and I am already wounded._

Then the darkness closed in on her mind and she knew no more.


	33. Paina and Panic

**Cards Reshuffled 33 – Paina and Panic**

_Despite all the grief caused by being a Child of Bhaal, I sometimes think that there are those who are worse off than I am. At least people usually don’t try to kill me as soon as they catch sight of me. Well, not unless you count some of the people I’ve already met, but that’s different._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

She was floating, drifting through a red mist. There was an insistent pain at her throat, tugging at her, and she felt weak, too weak to move. There was sound as well, the faltering, weakening sound of a heart. _My heart_ , Zaerini thought. _Growing slower. I’m dying._

As she had before, she tried to struggle, to get loose, but she was too weak, she couldn’t even move properly. There were arms holding her, cradling her close, almost tenderly, but they were cold. No human warmth. Not the arms she was longing for. _Edwin…I’m sorry. This time I’m the one who’s leaving, and I won’t be coming back from this one. I’ll miss you. I’ll miss all the others as well. Immy…I tried._

Memories flickered through her head. Being tied to a table, the knives slicing through her skin as cold and sharp as the teeth currently locked to her throat. Irenicus. And further back, pain and humiliation as hostile hands touched her…over and over again. Reiltar. _At least he died. I wonder if I’ll see him on the other side?_

And then there was an angry hiss, and the teeth were torn away from her throat, letting her blood flow freely, covering her with lovely warmth. _Hot…so hot._ There was a loud ‘thunk’, and a pained scream, and more of the wet warm blood covered her, except this blood wasn’t her own. The arms that had held her disappeared, simply faded away into nothing, and she felt herself hit the stone floor painfully. Fighting to get her eyes open she saw a face hovering above her, illuminated by the red glow of her heat vision, but it wasn’t the face of one of her friends, as she had hoped. This was a face straight out of the darkest tales of the Realms. 

Her rescuer was female and shared her own slight build and pointy ears. However, the stranger’s skin was a dusky gray, almost black, and her hair a silvery white. Large and curious eyes burned with red fire in a pointy face that gave nothing away. _Drow!_ But then she noticed that her first impression hadn’t been entirely correct. The pointy ears were very similar to her own, not as tall as those of a full elf, and the skin wasn’t dark enough. _A…a half-Drow? I’d heard of those…but they’re extremely uncommon, aren’t they? I think they’re usually killed at birth by the full Drow, and it’s not as if either elves or humans love them either. Hardly fair if you ask me._ “Who…who are you?” she managed to say, frightened at how weak her voice sounded. She certainly hoped the other woman had no intention of killing her. She had lost a lot of blood and was still doing so; she didn’t have a hope of defending herself. 

“Paina,” the other one hoarsely said, in a voice that sounded as if it hadn’t been used in a very long time, and then she looked surprised. “My name…is Paina.” Then her face turned harsh. “What are you doing here? Have you come to hurt my friends?” 

“Your…friends?” 

“Yes. My friends.” There were soft sounds in the darkness, and the prone half-elf could feel something touching her gingerly. Something long, and hairy. She had a nasty feeling that she knew what it was, a feeling that was confirmed when a large number of bulging black eyes met hers. _There is a giant spider sitting on my chest. There is a giant spider sitting on my chest. THERE IS A GIANT SPIDER SITTING ON MY CHEST!_ She coughed, feeling her head spin as more blood trickled from the puncture wounds in her throat. _Oh, and I’m still dying, I guess._ “No,” Zaerini weakly said. “I didn’t come to hurt your friends.” 

“Yet you and your friends slew many of mine. Why should I not kill you? I might have let the vampire have you, except his kind are a greater threat than you. They kill my poor spiders whenever they run into them.”

“I’m sorry…they attacked us. The spiders, I mean. We had to defend ourselves.” The bard tried to think of something better to say, but the loss of blood was making her weaker by the moment, and it was so hard to think. “I am…I am Zaerini,” she said. _Try to make her think of you as a person, not an enemy. That’s a start._ “I mean you no harm. Not…not my friends either. Will you help me?” 

Paina raised a silvery eyebrow. “Help you?” she said, her voice dripping scorn. “Why should I? Nobody ever helps me, nobody except my friends here, and everybody hates them and fears them as much as they hate me.”

“I’m sorry…I’m half-elven myself, you know. Not like being half-Drow, but I still know what it’s like when people hate you over something you can’t help, over…over who you are. Nobody deserves that.” 

“Maybe,” the half-Drow said. “But that I don’t deserve it doesn’t stop them.” She sighed. “Still…I think I will help you. Tracking you led me to killing a blood drinker.” She poured something into the wounded woman’s mouth, and Rini could feel the wounds closing up. She was still terribly weak, and she thought the loss of blood might well still kill her, but the danger wasn’t quite as immediate. “There,” Paina said. “Now you will keep a little longer, and I will…talk to you.” There was an old longing in the red eyes. “I…haven’t talked to anybody in a very long time.” 

The bard felt an instant surge of compassion for her fellow half-elf. _And I thought it was bad when humans or elves looked down on me. At least they don’t try to kill me on sight, unless they know about the Bhaal blood, and that doesn’t show on the outside, the way her skin and hair do._ Briefly she was reminded of Viconia. The Sharran cleric had been a full Drow of course, but she had still known what it was to be hunted for the color of your skin. _I wonder where Vic is these days…I hope she got that house of her own she was planning to buy._ “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. “I’d probably go funny in the head if I didn’t have anybody to talk to. But I’ll talk to you, if you want. So…er…where did you come from? How did you wind up here?” 

Paina’s story was short, and sad. She had no memory of her parents and did not know how she had been spared the common fate of a half-Drow child. Her earliest memories were of trying to survive on the streets of Athkatla, and managing to do so, just barely. There were plenty of people willing to use or abuse what to their eyes looked like a Drow, and some who were willing to pay for it. Some were even willing to pay her. She had done what she had to, in order to survive. Selling herself was bad, stealing was far preferable, but she wasn’t too good at picking pockets, not good enough to make a regular career out of it. She could occasionally steal from her more drunken clients though. And then she had accidentally stumbled across the deserted tunnels beneath the graveyard, and she had left the world that despised her to descend into the darkness. Taming the spiders had been slow work, but she had prevailed eventually, and by now she considered them her only friends. She never left her tunnels, and usually she killed anybody who got near enough to be a threat. “I meant to kill you too,” she said, red eyes very calm. “I followed you and the others before, but you never saw me. I can be very, very quiet. But then the bloodsucker came and took you. I wanted to kill him first. And then…I wanted to talk to you.”

“Well…you have talked to me,” Zaerini said, fighting against the weakness that once again was threatening to overtake her. The healing potion had helped some, but she could tell that it wasn’t enough. “And I hope you won’t kill me. I don’t want to kill you either. I’d…I’d help you if I could.”

“Help me?”

“Yes…maybe you could come with us? Out of the tunnels?”

The half-Drow shook her head violently, white tresses flying. “No! I will never go up there again. It…is not safe. The surface people cannot be trusted.” She hesitated. “I will not kill you…if you die it will be the blood-sucker’s doing. But if you live…you will have something.” She placed a small, hard object in the bard’s hand. “This…is Khittix. She was my first friend…I will miss her. But she has been telling me lately that it is time for her to go elsewhere.”

“I can’t take…”

“You must. She has told me that she has to go; it was she who sent me to you. I will do as she asks, not for your sake, but for hers. I will do no more. If you are not strong enough to live, then you are not strong enough to keep her, and then she may return to me.” The red eyes were filled with a strange mixture of anger, sadness and longing. “I will go now.” Then Paina was gone, disappeared into the darkness without a sound, leaving a puzzled half-elf behind. 

Rini lay in the darkness for some time, trying to keep breathing. It was harder than you might think. She could feel herself weakening again, minute by minute, and she wasn’t strong enough to get to her feet. As she fought for her life the strange conversation with Paina kept flickering through her mind. _What must it be like to live like that? Feared and shunned by all who see you? Hurt and outcast? No wonder she does not trust. I think…that was another reason for her not to want to fully heal me. She was afraid of what I might do to her if I was stronger. Only when I was on the brink of death did she dare approach. And…I am not away from that yet. Not yet._

Her fingers roamed over the item that Paina had given her. Small, hard and cold, it felt made of some stone. Obsidian, maybe? It was mostly round, but there were things sticking out of it. Eight things. Eight long things. Like…legs. _A spider? A figurine of a spider? Paina spoke of ‘her’…of her friend. She could have been deluding herself I suppose but…I wonder. That name she used – what was it? Khittix. Yes. That was it._ “Khittix…” she murmured. “Khittix, if you can hear me, then come to me.” 

The figurine trembled for a moment, then grew cold, so cold that it burnt her fingers and she was forced to let it go. It dropped to the ground with a small clatter, and she could suddenly feel something touching her hand, probing gently. Something soft and hairy. Managing to turn her head she saw the largest spider she had ever seen, larger than even the great Sword Spiders of the Cloakwood Forest. It was easily the size of a large dog, and wild thoughts of trying to take it for walks on a leash almost made her laugh out loud, despite her predicament. “Khittix…” she said, her voice filled with wonder. Then she had an idea. She had tried to reach her mind out to find her familiar, but she couldn’t find her. Probably Softpaws was too far away, out of range. But if she could manage to communicate her wishes to the spider… “Khittix,” she whispered. “I need you to do something. Can you find my friends and bring them here? Can you?” 

The spider chittered at her, mandibles clicking. There was a sense of comprehension about the way she eagerly jumped up and down. “Good girl! Here, wait just a moment. You’ll have to be careful. They won’t know you’re a friend, they’ll think you’re trying to attack them. You have to be very careful, so they don’t hurt you, all right?” 

Khittix waved one of her legs in a dismissive gesture, then scurried off through the darkness, hopefully in the right direction. _I hope she’ll be all right, Rini thought. The others are bound to be pretty trigger-happy by now._

As a matter of fact, Zaerini was quite right about that, despite the fact that the only party member in possession of an actual trigger was Jan Jansen, adventurer, inventor and turnip-salesman. The gnome kept staring at the shadows of the corridor he was currently walking along, expecting something to leap out at him at any moment, crossbow swiveling here and there. Already there had been more of the shadow creatures, some more ghouls, and a couple of lumbering bandage-wrapped humans smelling vaguely of cinnamon and old dust. Mummies, Edwin had called them. _Strange burial habits humans have. Not as strange as those of old Hannibal ‘Gnasher’ Jansen the Cannibal Gnome though. Now there was a story to strike fear into the hearts of little kiddies everywhere, particularly with the way he used his toothpick…_

Despite the ever-present threat of monsters, Jan was actually quite pleased to be scouting ahead of the group a little, looking for traps. Once Zaerini’s disappearance had been noticed, the others had more or less lost their heads. Minsc had gone berserk, trying to hack through the walls in order to get to his Witch, Jaheira snarled and snapped at everything that moved and Edwin and Anomen were quivering bundles of nerves and kept sniping at each other more than ever. Jan was worried too, of course. He liked his party leader and was very eager to have her safely returned. But he didn’t see what shouting about it was going to accomplish. _I guess it’s because none of the others are rogues_ , he thought as he carefully manipulated a sneakily hidden pressure plate into a locked position, keeping it from raining fiery death and destruction on him. _An impatient thief doesn’t live very long, usually. Unless he has a front as a legitimate merchant, like that slimy little turnip-hating sleaze who married Lissa. Now, a front as an illegal merchant, that is quite different, far more respectable, if only she’d see it…_

A sudden sound from the shadows alerted the gnome to the fact that he was no longer alone, and he raised his crossbow a little. Then his eyes widened with surprise as he saw an enormous, poisonously green spider come hurrying towards him from a side passage, its multitude of little eyes glittering black in the faint illumination of his mage light. Reacting instantly, he raised his beloved crossbow and took careful aim. _Just a little closer, and there’ll be itsy bitsy little spider bits flying all over. Just a little closer…_

It was a nightmare, plain and simple. Worse, it was a nightmare he had lived through before, giving that extra edge of terror that comes from knowing what to expect. From the moment when Edwin had first discovered that Zaerini was missing he had been in a quiet state of rage and worry. Well, all right. Maybe not so quiet, but that was surely beside the point. And it wasn’t as if the roof actually had caved in, the Fireball he had directed at one of the supporting pillars had been a minor one, after all. There were more important things to fuss about. _Anything could be happening to her right now! Anything! And where is that confounded gnome? How long can it take to check for a few traps? And that druid…you would think that wolf form of hers would be good for something, would you not? But no, she simply goes on about how the large mass of undead on the premises masques all other smells. Not to mention the dwarf who doesn’t even seem to realize the extreme gravity of the situation. Quite worthless, the lot of them._

The worst thing was that he could remember all too clearly that other time when his Hellkitten had been abducted, and just what had happened to her, and just what had almost happened. He knew that she still wasn’t entirely recovered from it, and perhaps never would be. _Almost a pity she killed Reiltar Anchev. I would have taken great pleasure in doing so myself. Preferably slowly._

_You’re fighting old battles, wizard_ , Softpaws said. The cat was walking a little ahead of him, and her voice felt just as edgy and irritated as his own. Apparently, she wasn’t close enough to be able to pinpoint her Mistress’ location, though she explained that as soon as that happened she would be able to lead them directly to the spot. _My kitten needs you to keep your head, you know._

_Yes, yes, I will. It is just hard, that is all. If she were to die…_

_She will not!_ The cat sounded frantic now, both frightened and angry. _Don’t say that, not unless you like the idea of claws inserted into your feet._ She paused and turned to look at him across her shoulder, green eyes unreadable. _But you are only human. I suppose you cannot be expected to have the cool head of a cat. So, you may pick me up and carry me if you wish. I am told that humans like that._

_Carry you?_

_Yes, I can’t very well let you go to pieces, can I? My kitten will want you back in one piece. Are you going to pick me up or not?_

Snappish as the familiar sounded, there was still that clear undertone of fear to her mental voice. Edwin thought it best not to mention that, however. Besides, it would perhaps do him some good. Bending down he picked the black cat up, carefully letting her ease into a comfortable position in his arms before moving on. The warmth of the soft fur felt…quite nice, actually. _You will have to get down in case of battle of course._

_Of course. I couldn’t let you impede me if I need to move quickly. You may pet me now._

Smiling a little despite everything, the Red Wizard stroked the silky fur, for a moment allowing himself to pretend that it wasn’t fur at all, but hair. Red hair, to be exact. It actually did seem to be calming his nerves, just a little bit. He was still frantic, but better able to think than before. _She will be all right. She has to be. I’ve only just found her; I cannot lose her again. I will not allow it._

“Hey!” Jan yelled from up ahead. “Look what I found!” Edwin blinked with surprise at the strange sight that met him. Trailing after the gnome was an enormous green spider, almost as large as he was, but the animal showed no signs of wanting to attack. 

“What…where did you find that creature?” Jaheira asked. 

“Just a little further along the passage. I almost shot her, but then she sat up and begged so nicely, and then she rolled over…couldn’t hurt her then!” 

“Why?” Korgan asked. “That be when it be easiest to hit them…” 

“It is good that the little gnome should have a pet of his own,” Minsc whispered to Edwin in a voice like booming thunder. “I have seen him casting greedy eyes at my Boo more than once. If Minsc’s Witch hadn’t asked him not to he might well have…” Here the giant man’s eyes filled with tears, and he gave the wizard a pleading look. “Will we find Minsc’s Witch again?” 

_This cannot be happening to me_ , Edwin thought. _I cannot be…be comforting a Rashemite ranger! Imagine the shame if this should ever become public knowledge!_ Yet it wouldn’t be a good idea to have Minsc go into another one of his rages. _I mean, my little Fireball was discreet. Just a natural and sensible way of ventilating my emotions properly. But him with all that screaming and raging and charging about with a sword, he could have killed us all!_ And besides, this time he shared the ranger’s sentiments exactly. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, of course we will find Zaerini. No question about it. Am I not Edwin Odesseiron, the greatest mage in recorded history? My immense magical powers will guide us to her without failure, striking down anybody who would block our way.” 

“Pity you have no skill at Divination,” Anomen acidly remarked. “We might have found the lady already, if you weren’t more inclined to blow things up and summon dangerous beasts.” 

“I don’t exactly see you contributing! Arrange some divine intervention, like some powerful magical creature turning up out of nowhere, and then you can…” 

At that moment all the adventurers’ heads turned simultaneously towards the large green spider on the ground. “I…I do not _think_ I did that!” Anomen said, looking confused. 

“It does not exactly sound like Helm,” Jaheira said. “From what I know, he would be more likely to send a Beholder. But surely it cannot be…” 

“Not her?” Edwin protested. “Not the Spider Goddess? That makes no sense whatsoever. (Not that much of these monkeys’ conversation does anyway.”

The spider chirped excitedly, looking very eager. “I will attempt to commune with it,” Jaheira said. “Give me but a few moments.” With that, the druid sat down on the ground before the spider, her hands hovering above its hairy body, her eyes closed. The spider stood perfectly motionless, not seeming to mind the attention as a faint green glow surrounded it. Eventually Jaheira’s eyes snapped open, and there was a fierce look on her face. “Hurry!” she shouted, getting to her feet. “No time to waste!” 

“What is it?” Anomen gasped, even as the others hurried after the druid. 

“This spider knows where Zaerini is. It will take us to her. But…”

“But what?” Edwin snapped. “Talk!” 

“But she is gravely wounded, maybe dying! So if you value her life wizard, hike up your robes and run.” 

Running in the dark was not easy, even with mage light to help, but it was of some comfort to Edwin that if he was a bit hampered by his robes, Anomen had just as much trouble with his armor, and so did Minsc. Jan’s shorter legs would have made him get left far behind if Minsc hadn’t finally simply picked him up and placed him on his back. Korgan was getting by quite well on his own though, displaying the legendary stamina of the dwarven people. Jaheira took the lead, easily loping along behind Khittix in her light leather armor. _Soon_ , Edwin thought as he pushed himself to run faster. _Soon. I am coming._ For a mage he was actually in quite good shape, due partly to a naturally strong constitution and partly to his teacher’s insistence that he keep himself reasonably fit and get at least some practice with weapons other than his magic. _You always want to have an ace up your sleeve_ , Dekaras had told him. _An enemy who thinks you harmless will take greater risks, and you may surprise him if you have the means to do so. And trust me, if you should ever find yourself in a situation when you completely run out of spells, you will want another means to defend yourself._

_And he would know of course_ , Edwin thought, feeling the familiar stab of pain as he thought of his mentor. _He would know all too well._

Finally, the tunnel widened a little, and the eager Khittix scampered over towards something dark lying on the ground. Edwin sent the red orb of his mage light a little higher in order to see better, and then he almost howled out loud with despair. The thing on the ground, lying there like a discarded bundle of cloth, was Zaerini. Her face was pale and motionless, her eyes closed, and there was blood. So much blood. Her face and clothes were smeared with it, glistening puddles that looked almost black in the darkness, and she wasn’t moving. _No…no…please no!_

“NOOOOOO!” Minsc bellowed, shaking Jan off and hurrying towards the fallen half-elf. “Not Minsc’s Witch! Not Minsc’s Witch! Not AGAAAAIIIIIN!” 

Edwin tried to walk towards the woman on the ground as well, but his legs felt oddly sluggish, as if he was walking through a deep swamp, and there was a strange roaring in his ears. _No…no…no…_ He was dimly aware of Softpaws leaping from his arms, but if the cat spoke to him again, he couldn’t make sense of the words. All he could do was to stare at the red hair fanned out on the ground, and the blood that had seeped into it. _No…no…no…_

“ASIDE!” Jaheira shouted, her voice even more commanding than usual. “Anomen, MOVE! She will need us both!” The druid was murmuring a prayer to her god even as she knelt by Zaerini, her strong hands rapidly searching the injuries out. Anomen had joined her by now, pale and visibly shaken, but he obeyed the voice of authority and acted automatically, joining Jaheira’s efforts. The two healers worked silently for the most time, grim-faced and focused, only now and then exchanging a few muttered words that were totally incomprehensible to all others. Somehow it had managed to penetrate to Edwin’s frantic mind that Zaerini was indeed still alive, though just barely. _And for how long? They have to save her! They have to!_ Somehow Softpaws had wound up in his arms again, and he clutched the cat tightly to his chest without thinking about it, as if keeping the animal safe would somehow do the same for its Mistress. 

Finally, Anomen chanted a spell in a voice louder than he had used before, there was the sound like a great bell ringing, and a rush of wind. Immediately the cleric sagged against the wall, his face gray and exhausted. “It…is done,” he said, his voice weak. “By the will of the gods…she will live!” 

Edwin just barely had the time to hear the last words. Then the roar in his ears grew to a howling hurricane, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he promptly fainted. 

When Edwin next opened his eyes, it was to a much more pleasant reality than before. A pair of wide, worried golden eyes were looking into his own, and the face that went with the eyes was very familiar as well, familiar and treasured. _Those eyes…make her look like I imagine a deva must look. Well, apart from the fact that she’s still smeared with blood all over and…she’s alive?_ “’Rini?” he murmured. “You…are alive? Really alive?” 

“Won’t get rid of me that easily,” the half-elf said, smiling a little. She looked tired, but otherwise healthy. “Yes, I’m fine. What about you though? You got a nasty bump on the head, Anomen had to use his last healing spell to get rid of the concussion.” 

“Not that I am likely to get any thanks,” the Helmite sourly said. “And I was already exhausted, the day wasn’t this long even when I led soldiers in the Order!” 

“Well, I am grateful enough for both of us,” Zaerini told the cleric. “You and Jaheira saved my life, not to mention that you restored the life energy that the vampire drained away. I don’t know how I can ever repay you. And Khittix of course, for getting you guys here in time.” The spider chittered happily at this. 

“Think nothing of it, my lady!” Anomen beamed, bowing proudly. “It was my pleasure to serve you, as it will always be.”

_I’m sure it would be_ , Edwin thought. _Blast. Since he did save her life, I suppose I owe him something. I suppose that means I can’t kill him, at least not yet. And I had such nice ideas about it too…_

Anomen reluctantly excused himself after a few moments, saying that he needed to go thank his God for what help he had received, and the mage and the bard were left to themselves, apart from Softpaws who was sitting in the crook of Zaerini’s arm, and Khittix who was exploring the floor. “I’m sorry you were so worried,” Zaerini eventually said in a soft voice. “It’s funny you know…do you remember that old bard’s tale villain, Super Evil Villain Man?” 

“Er…yes?”

“Well, they always used to say that ‘if you can’t find his body, he’s still alive somewhere’. But I’m just the opposite. If you can see my body, it means I’m still alive. When I die…I guess I’ll just turn into…dust.” Her eyes turned a little distant. “Just like Sarevok.” 

Edwin grasped her hand, holding it tightly, marveling at how small it felt in his own. “You will not die,” he said. “I promise you. (No, not while Edwin Odesseiron is still alive, breathing, and in possession of his masterful wits and staggeringly powerful magic.)”

“Everybody dies,” the half-elf said, raising a delicate red eyebrow. 

“No. Not everybody.” He smiled proudly at her, his heart singing. “And I will soon prove it to you, making you see just how amazing I am. (The Nether Scroll is close. I know it, all the signs point in this direction. And then…power and life everlasting, for both of us.)” 

The smile that she gave him was enough to almost make him feel like divinity was already within his grasp. Surely no goddess could possibly be more beautiful than this. “Actually,” Zaerini said, “I happen to think you’re pretty much amazing already.”


	34. Nether Scroll

**Cards Reshuffled 34 – Nether Scroll**

_I should have known better. I really should have known better. I really should have asked myself why that lich was insane in the first place. Not that I think I could have prevented what happened anyway. Some people just can’t help fiddling with every strange and dangerous magical artifact they come across._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Child,” Jaheira said, “are you quite certain you are ready to continue? You were very seriously wounded, and you have only barely recovered from the healing.” 

Zaerini nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “I’m still tired, and what’s worse is that something in the vampire’s bite made me forgot all the spells I memorized last night. I won’t be able to cast again until I’ve had a chance to rest, and I know Anomen’s exhausted too, but this isn’t a good spot. I think we should go on, at least for a little while. I’ll just have to manage somehow.” Her voice sounded more than a little strained though, and the druid wasn’t late to pick up on this. 

“That is not all though, is it?” Jaheira said, lowering her voice a little. 

The bard’s shoulders sagged a little. “No,” she admitted. “It’s just that…I felt so helpless. I couldn’t even defend myself. It…I guess it reminded me of Irenicus.” A shadow crossed her face. “And of Reiltar.” 

Jaheira’s scowl turned even more stony than usual, but Rini knew that it wasn’t meant for her. “That…that obscene blight against nature!” she spat. “If he was not dead already, I would have gladly torn him apart with my bare hands, then burnt the foul carcass to keep the worms from getting poisoned feasting on his black heart.” 

“Excuse me,” Jan curiously said. “But did I hear you mention a gentleman by the name of ‘Reiltar’ by any chance?” Zaerini startled a little. She hadn’t heard the gnome coming up behind her, but now he was standing right behind her. 

“Yes,” she said, trying not to let the memories resurface. “Reiltar Anchev. He was the adoptive father of Sarevok, my brother, of whom I told you before.” For a moment she considered saying nothing more. Then she impulsively decided against it. _What happened was not my fault. It is not my shame to bear. No matter that it still makes me feel dirty._ “He…managed to poison me,” she said, trying to keep her voice neutral. “Then he abducted me. And then he…meant to…to…” The words wouldn’t come out. They kept sticking in her throat, choking her. “He meant to…to…”

“To rape you,” Edwin said, coming over to stand close by her. The wizard’s voice was very quiet, but filled with deadly rage and hatred. “Do not ever be ashamed of saying it. That _ort kamal-en antu-es_ fully deserved to die a hundred deaths and more for what he did, but you have nothing to be ashamed of.” Hearing him echo her own thoughts helped a great deal, and when he reached out to give her hand a comforting squeeze, seemingly without even thinking about it, she felt even better. “He did not quite get what he wanted,” Edwin went on, now speaking to the rest of the group, still sounding very murderous. “Though what he did was bad enough.” 

Rini saw Anomen choke back what she suspected was a nasty curse, his hand tightening around his mace handle, a small muscle twitching in his cheek. Minsc looked about ready to go berserk, and she thought that only the calming presence of Boo sitting on his shoulder, nudging his ear, kept him from doing so. Jan looked utterly shocked; his normal easygoing manner shaken. 

“Yet ye live,” Korgan said, sounding intrigued, “and not he? Did ye get proper revenge then?”

The bard could feel her blood slowly heating up, the murderous taint of Bhaal strengthening as it always did whenever she thought of Reiltar, and by the way Korgan’s eyes widened a little she suspected that her own eyes had started to glow again, making them resemble the fiery glare of Sarevok. “I did,” she said, and now her voice was a silky hiss. “I got some respite…thanks to Reiltar being conned by some business contact of his, a certain Count Turnipsome…and Edwin helped me escape. And then, sometime later, I killed Reiltar Anchev. There was just a little more left of him than could fit inside a normal bottle. Now, does that answer your question?” 

“Aye!” The dwarf gave her an appreciative look, chuckling a little to himself. “That be the proper fire and spirit lassie, that it be. Bloody vengeance and having yer foe shriek as ye chop him into mush, there be nothing finer in the world. Good thing ye’re not one o’ those fancy weakling females who faint at the sight o’ blood, but a true hellion t’revel in it instead.” 

_Did Korgan just give me a compliment? Wow._ “Er…thanks, I guess,” Rini said. Then she noticed that Jan was still staring at her, his mouth hanging open. “What is it, Jan?” she asked. 

“Er…” Jan said, his words forming unusually slowly for him. “It’s just that your story reminded me of when I used to travel the Sword Coast a while back, seeking business opportunities. I particularly recall leaving Baldur’s Gate pretty quickly, after I’d sold some swamp land to one Reiltar Anchev. I didn’t want him to try to get a refund, you see. Even though he knew me under the name of Count Turnipsome.” 

Now it was the half-elf’s turn to gape, as the meaning of these words slowly sank home. _Jan? Jan was Count Turnipsome? But that means…_ “You saved me,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper. “If not for you, he would have finished what he started. And then he likely would have killed me before there was time to rescue me. Jan, I owe you my life, and more. I can never thank you enough.” Bending down, she grasped the stunned gnome’s shoulders and then gave him a kiss right on his balding forehead. 

“Was a pleasure…” Jan managed to get out before Edwin spoke. 

“It seems I must revaluate my opinion of you, gnome,” the Red Wizard said. “You are clearly not entirely a waste of precious oxygen, and I owe you a debt. So, I have decided to put off eliminating you for now. (I will not kiss him though. I have to draw the line somewhere.)” 

“Gee, thanks a lot, Red!” Jan said. “Your generosity overwhelms me; it makes my heart go all fluttery. Which is a condition my poor cousin Egbert Jansen suffered from, actually. His heart would stop now and then, when the turnip market was bad, or when he saw a particularly attractive female gnome. He did manage to get around it though, by taming a lightning Mephit that would shock him back to life whenever he needed it. ‘I’m ALIVE!’ he’d scream, his hair sticking out in all directions. Of course, it was a very bad mistake to refuse the Mephit a payrise. The next time cousin Egbert’s heart stopped the Mephit went on strike, demanding ten gold more per year, a full pension and a dental plan, as well as a paid vacation to the Abyss each year. Of course, by that time cousin Egbert wasn’t exactly in a position to negotiate anymore…” 

“That,” Edwin scoffed, “has to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” 

“Ah, that’s exactly what cousin Egbert said when the Mephit demanded one hour’s massage per week as part of its payment and look what happened to him! But I’m more generous, if your heart stops due to staring at some certain girl, I’ll make sure to apply this Lightning Wand I have handy…” 

Rini wasn’t entirely certain exactly what it was that Edwin muttered at that point, for it was in his native Thayvian, but as they walked on she caught him giving her a sidelong glance that made her heart make an odd little lurch. _Some certain girl…_

Sometime later they came to a place where the corridor widened, and there was more light, coming from magical torches placed in sconces on the walls. Speaking of the walls, they were covered with strange writings, in a language Zaerini couldn’t identify, and there were pictures as well, hundreds of them all jumbled together. People, animals, monsters, and weird symbols of all sorts. If she was puzzled though, Edwin was ecstatic. 

“Yes!” the wizard exclaimed. “We are on the right track!” He eagerly grasped her arm, pulling her towards the wall where he pointed at one particularly ugly picture portraying what seemed to be a rotting corpse. “See?” he said, his eyes shining with all the excitement of a small child on Solstice Eve, practically jumping up and down. “See? It’s him! (Unlimited power and life everlasting, within my grasp at last!) It’s really him!”

_Awww…that’s really cute when he gets all excited like that!_ “Him who?” she asked. 

“Him! Nevaziah the Lich!” Edwin lowered his voice and made it take on a highly melodramatic timbre. “The last known possessor of….the Nether Scroll! And he’s said to be buried close by! Now all we have to do is to go and kill him and fetch what’s rightfully mine.” 

“Are you quite mad?” Jaheira demanded. “A lich? You never mentioned any lich before! Why did you not mention the lich before? How could you possibly _forget_ to mention the lich before? It is not as if it is some…some goblin that can be easily slain with one hand!” 

“Actually,” Anomen mused, “the priests possessing the highest of Lord Helm’s favor are said to be able to make liches and other powerful unholy creatures explode simply by looking at them, and seeing that I have ever strived to be a devoted servant I ought to be able to…”

The furious druid rounded on him, stabbing her forefinger against his armor-plated chest. “And you are just as bad! Overgrown little boys with egos the size of Toril, wanting to fight monsters that would chew them up and spit them out in a heartbeat…pheh!” 

“Minsc wants to fight too!” the ranger said with a big smile. “Liches are very big Evil, and the bigger they are, the harder I hit!” 

Korgan shrugged. “Yon scroll would be able to provide plenty o’ coin and magical treasures, aye? I’ve killed fer less…and me axe is itchin’ fer a swing or two…” 

Zaerini suddenly found herself faced with a highly irate druidess, a pair of angry green eyes blazing at her, and the tiny braids on Jaheira’s head bristling like the tails of angry cats. “Child!” Jaheira said, making the word somehow sound like an order. “Surely you will not condone this folly? Imoen needs us alive!” 

“But the scroll!” Edwin pleaded. “I have to have…I mean, it would provide us with incalculable benefits!” 

Rini looked from one to the other, hesitating. _I hope I’m not making a bad mistake now._ “We don’t even know that there still is a lich here,” she eventually said. “Let’s just go take a look, very carefully, and then we’ll see what we can do about it, if anything.” 

A while later, the party spotted a doorway from which faint light was spilling. From behind it, they could hear somebody singing, in a dry voice that sounded as if the singer had just inhaled a barrel of dust. _Oh noooobody knoooows…how the looooneliness groooowsss…noooobody knoooowwws…my soooorrrroooow! Oh nooooobody knoooows…the paaaaiiin in my toooooessss…aching like there’s nooooo toooomorrrow!_

The adventurers gave each other identical looks of bafflement. _Well, whatever else he is, he sure is one lousy singer_ , Rini thought. “I’ll take a look,” she whispered. “Eddie, Jan, you too.” As the two wizards turned themselves invisible, she used her own shapechanging ability to melt into the form of a small red cat, one that she was reasonably certain wouldn’t be noticed by the lich. Carefully, carefully she moved forward. Then she stopped in her tracks, staring at a sight unlike anything she had ever seen before. 

There was a small room ahead that looked more or less like a burial chamber, with more of those little pictures painted all over the wall. However, apart from the large stone sarcophagus, there was also an enormous bathtub in the middle of the room. There was no water in the tub, only sand, but that didn’t seem to dismay the creature sitting in it, singing at the top of his voice and waving a yellow toy duck about. Nevaziah the Lich looked as if he had once been human. Now he was dry and dusty, rather resembling a mummy, with a withered horror of a face like a very old prune. His eyes were black and empty sockets, with faint pinpricks of red light burning deep within. On top of his head he wore the single most ugly hat that Rini had ever seen, apart from Elminster’s pointy monstrosity. It more or less resembled a highly ornate bucket. _I wonder how long ago that thing was fashionable? Or maybe it’s a bathing cap?_ Apart from that, the lich was quite nude, and the bard found herself very grateful that she couldn’t see all of him. There were certain things she’d rather not know about, and the exact anatomy of a naked lich was definitely one of them. _Though actually, ‘The Naked Lich’ sounds like a good title for a play… Well, I guess we found the lich. Now to figure out whether the fact that he’s insane is an advantage or not…_

“So,” Zaerini whispered. “Do you know anything about this Nevaziah fellow?” She, Edwin and Jan were clustered together in an alcove out of the lich’s range of hearing, and she had just shifted back to her regular shape in order to be better able to communicate. “Apart from him being raving mad, I mean?”

“Well,” Edwin said, thoughtfully stroking his beard as he kept shooting longing glances in the direction of the lich. “Not all that much is actually known about him, since he went underground a very long time ago. But it is said that even while still a human wizard he wasn’t entirely sane. Prone to confusion and very forgetful. He couldn’t even remember who his own apprentices were, and so he’d suddenly start attacking them because he’d think they were intruders come to harm him. Not very many wanted to study under him, and those who did tended to be just as crackbrained as he was. Worse, eventually he grew insane enough that he mistook his wife for a small oyster.”

“An…oyster?”

“Yes. And when he tried to crack her open to eat her, she threw him out. That’s when he decided to become a lich in order to eliminate all mortal concerns.” 

“Not bad, Red!” Jan approvingly said. “The story lacks that certain something, that I-don’t-know-what…” 

“That certain turnip element?” Edwin asked with a small smirk. 

“Exactly! But apart from that, not bad. We’ll make a fine gnome of you yet, you’ll see.” 

“I do not want to be a gnome! Why would I? I am already the perfect human. (Not to mention that a nose that big seems very awkward when you get a cold.)” 

“I think we’ll just keep him human, Jan,” Rini said. “I prefer him that way. And now, let’s try to make up a plan about Nevaziah…” 

A few minutes later the three spellcasters stepped inside Nevaziah’s chamber, quite openly and unashamedly. The lich was still sitting in his bathtub, playing with his toy duck. He was also still singing in that dry and dusty voice. _Happy duck, happy duck, play with bubbles, quack, quack, QUACK!_ It sounded just as awful as before, and the hand movements didn’t improve matters. As he noticed the strangers entering he shouted ‘Ack!’, tore down a towel off the wall and covered…well, Rini didn’t really want to know exactly what it was he was covering, so she didn’t look too closely. “You!” the lich shouted. “Who are you? What are you doing here? My wife didn’t send you, did she? I told her I’d let her have the house…” 

“No, master!” Zaerini said, bowing deeply. “Your wife didn’t send us. We’re your apprentices, don’t you remember?”

“That is correct,” Edwin added, his eyes roaming greedily about the chamber, searching for magical treasures. “The most skilled and intelligent apprentices available, you handpicked us yourself. I am of course top of the class. (Though I doubt his lessons would be as interesting as I am used to.)” 

“You know,” Jan said, “my own instructor in the magical arts was actually my own great-great-grandson, Torkil Jansen.” 

Rini blinked. “How did that work out?” she asked. 

“Well, it appears my descendant is going to be really skilled as a mage, and fond of experimenting with Time Stop spells. He adapted one and it accidentally sent him back to yours truly. Very polite he was too; said he knew all my stories by heart!”

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” Edwin muttered. “I hear insanity can be hereditary.” 

“Oh, now you’re just being jealous because you haven’t got any great-great-grandkids yet. Still, if you stop being shy and get to work properly you may have time to swindle some poor girl into falling for you.” 

“I’m not shy!”

“’Course not, Red. ‘Course not. Anyway, young Torkil made all these tantalizing hints about the future. Of course, he wasn’t really young, he was an ancient gnome with a long white beard, but you know what I mean. Still, he never told me the thing I most wanted to know, sadly enough.” 

“What?” Edwin asked. “When you would die? (In about five seconds if he won’t shut up soon, sooner if he calls me ‘shy’ again.)”

“No, no! What kind of inventions to aim for, of course! Said he didn’t want to pollute my genius with knowledge from the future. A shame. But I’m sure I’ll manage anyhow; I’m thinking of this steam driven wagon and…” 

There was the dry sound of somebody embarrassedly clearing their throat. “Er…” Nevaziah asked. “Apprentices? I don’t remember any…”

“’Course not, master!” Rini said. “We know you have such a lot of important matters to think of, like…like taking your bath.”

The lich looked at his toy duck, then coughed and tossed it aside. “Ah…yes. Yes, my young apprentice, quite correct. I was conducting some very important experiments on…on waterfowl and their floating capacity, I really don’t have the time to spare right now. What do you want?”

“The Nether Scroll!” Edwin exclaimed. “Give it to me at once, or I shall…” Then he yelped slightly as Zaerini stepped on his foot. 

“That’s right,” the half-elf said, smiling brightly at the lich. “You asked us to keep guard over it for you, master, surely you remember?”

The lich looked a little uncertain. “Ah…I…did I?”

“Master! You haven’t forgotten, have you?”

“No, no!” Nevaziah desperately said. “Not at all. But the Nether Scroll…are you sure I said that? It is very dangerous. Far too dangerous for apprentices, really.” 

“Oh, we know that. We’ll be very careful, just as you told us.” 

The slightly dazed look spread across the lich’s wrinkled face. “Oh…all right then. If I said that myself…here you go then.” He took off his extremely ugly hat, and took out a neatly rolled up scroll, holding it out. Edwin eagerly snatched it, clutching it tightly to his chest. “Yes!” he exclaimed. “This is it! This has to be it! The just and unlike alike shall fear the power of Edwin Odesseiron and his Nether Scroll!” 

“Hold on!” Nevaziah shouted. “You aren’t my apprentices! Thieves! Thieves! Give it back!” 

Cursing under her breath, Zaerini grabbed Edwin by the arm and pulled the wizard after her as she sprinted out the door, Jan right in front of her. _Way to go, Eddie_ , she thought. The three adventurers just barely had the time to turn around so that Jan and Edwin could fire a few spells at the doorway just as the lich came lurching through it. It was still wearing only the hideous hat and a towel wrapped around its waist. The spells didn’t seem to have much effect on the lich, but him tripping on the poor rejected toy duck did. Nevaziah slipped and fell, slamming his head violently against his bathtub. Nobody felt particularly keen on sticking around until he woke up. 

“I have it!” Edwin crowed, waving the Nether Scroll about proudly. “I have it! Unlimited power, within the reach of my fingertips! (Soon, yes, soon I will show her the full extent of my prowess.)” 

“So, can I see it?” Rini asked, leaning against the wall in order to get her breath back. She pushed a few strands of tangled red hair out of her eyes, smiling at the sight of the dangerous Red Wizard acting like a small child with a new and exciting toy.

Edwin hesitated for a moment, but then he unrolled the scroll. “Yes, I suppose so,” he said. “Just don’t smudge it!”

The scroll was ancient, yellow parchment cracked with age. Strange letters filled it, seemingly crawling about on the parchment like bugs. Just looking at them for more than a few seconds made your eyes hurt. However, there was also a small note attached to the scroll, and this was written in Common, although the letters were extremely tiny and almost illegible. Rini took a closer look at it, and this is what she read: 

_Agreement of Purchase_

_This isn't your Nether Scroll. Don't think it is simply because you just paid over all the money you owned for it, mortgaged your house and sold all your relatives (living and deceased) into slavery to finance the first monthly payment. You have only bought the right to use it, incompetent as you are. You aren't allowed to copy it, even in the safety of your own library. If you do, expect a visit from our Baatorian Legal Department, complete with whips and burning coals. You aren't allowed to modify it either, or sell it, or rent it out, or even to think about such actions. The Legal Department sure enjoys their work._

_Furthermore, you have absolutely no right to complain if this Nether Scroll should in any way malfunction, causing irrevocable damage to you, your family, your dog or the entire surrounding continent. Hey, you bought it! Is it our fault if you're gullible enough to trust us to release a totally functional version when we can make obscene heaps of money by selling updates later on? Of course it isn't, as the Legal Department will be only too happy to point out to you. In fact, you ought to pay us for daring to insinuate such a thing._

_Finally, once you get your first cryptic Error Message (and you will, trust us) don't expect it to make any sort of sense. We made them as unintelligible as possible on purpose, simply because we love the thought of you making your tiny brain overheat as you try to make some sense of them. (Mostly they're just randomly scrambled words.) MUAHAHAHAHA!’_

Zaerini stared at this ominous message as she read it over again, this time out loud. “Eddie?” she asked. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing here? This doesn’t really sound very safe.” 

Edwin made a dismissive gesture. “Nonsense!” he said. “That is simply a standard agreement of warranty, or non-warranty. Just something the big purveyors of magical items like to stick on their items for sale. It doesn’t really mean anything, nobody expects you to actually read it!” 

“That’s exactly what worries me!”

The wizard simply smiled back at her, looking entirely confident. “Everything will be well, I assure you. Just let me study it properly and you will soon find yourself amazed by the powers invested in me! (Not to mention the eternal youth, but that should come as a nice surprise.)” 

Rini sighed a little. “I suppose there’s no stopping you. But just promise me that you won’t experiment with it until I can at least be present to help you out in case…in case something should go wrong.” Then she felt herself growing suddenly hot as he took her hands into his own, giving them a reassuring squeeze. 

“Nothing will go wrong,” Edwin said. “Of course I am infallible under any circumstances, but with you present I will be even more so. You…inspire me towards ever greater heights of flawless superiority.” 

“Awwww!” Jan said with a small leer, startling the bard and the wizard and making them jump guiltily. “Keep on with it Red, those great-great-grandkids may not be as far off as you think…”


	35. Longing

**Cards Reshuffled 35 – Longing**

_Love will do strange things to you, like having another person take up permanent residence in your soul, that they may be with you no matter how far apart you are. That, and make you wear clothes you would otherwise die rather than be seen wearing in public._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

As the door to her cell opened, Imoen was practicing walking on her hands. This served two purposes. It was something to help take her mind off her troubles, and it was also helping her get back into shape. Her stay in Irenicus’ torture dungeon had weakened her, making her muscles lose some of their tone, both from starvation and from lack of activity. So, she had decided that she’d better try to get fit again. It was going pretty well so far, though she wasn’t quite back to normal just yet. I will be though. _Just you wait and see. And then…and then I’ll break out of this creepy ol’ place somehow, in a daring and madcap escape. Yup. That’s what I’ll do. Maybe I could leave a small box of chocolates and a teasing note on Coordinator Wanev’s desk as well, just like Slim Slick the Gentleman Thief did in that book I read. Or maybe just the note, if I had any chocolates, I sure wouldn’t leave them to him._ The food in this place was nourishing, but hardly tasty. 

Walking along on her hands, pink hair falling into her face, Imoen pondered the concept of dashing escapes further. _I bet Adahn wouldn’t leave the chocolates either, would he? No, he would probably do something even better…like leaving itching powder in stupid Wanev’s robes. Hee hee. I’d like to see that._

Imoen didn't like Wanev, the Asylum Coordinator, not one bit. _Stuck-up old poopy-head. Why won't he listen to me? Anybody should be able to tell I'm not a mage._ She still had no idea how she had been able to summon forth the fatal magic that had landed her in this 'Asylum for the Magically Deviant', and it annoyed her that the Cowlies didn't seem to want to believe that. No, they kept nagging, and worse. _Tests. Stupid Wanev and his stupid tests. I'd like to see somebody testing him, that would serve him right._ The things the Coordinator did weren't as bad as what Irenicus had done, but that didn't really say much. _Nobody could be as bad as Him. Nobody in the whole world._ And yet, she felt herself getting slowly better. She still had nightmares, but not as frequently, and she was feeling more and more like herself. There was at least no immediate threat here, except for boredom. 

"Break time!" a voice called out directly behind her. With a startled yelp the young thief lost her balance, landing in a heap on the floor. 

"Can't ya knock, Lonk?" she said, scowling at the dwarven jailer. 

"What for?" the dwarf said, sounding honestly puzzled. "I am the one with the keys." 

Some time later, Imoen had moved on from being bored out of her skull in her cell to being sliiiightly-less-bored-but-still-suffering in the recreation room. The inmates were allowed to mingle now and then, probably since the Cowled Wizards had realised that spending all your time staring at blank walls wouldn't make anybody get saner. Not that the recreation room was all that much more exciting, it was almost as bare and as dull as the cells, but at least it was something. _Let's see_ , Imoen thought. _What to do, what to do, what to do…oh look! There are some people here already! Goody, I want company!_

Smiling cheerfully, the girl ambled over towards the other end of the room, where two people were sitting at a small table, playing chess. One was an elderly elven mage, with silvery white hair, and a constant nervous twitch to his ears. He frowned as he stared at the chessboard, gnawing on his fingernails. "I know what you're doing…" he muttered at the opposing black chessmen. "You're plotting with them, aren't you? Aren't you? I know you, you'll be spouting fur and fangs soon, in order to distract me from my game! I know you will, bastard!" His voice turned shrill and his ears twitched even more violently than before, matched by a frenetic tic in one cheek. "Bad dog! Bad doggie! Sit! Stay! Bad dog!" 

"Tiax is no dog!" the opponent indignantly declared. "His Divine Highness will smite you for that insult, any moment now, and you will suffer eternally for daring to take his Queen!" This player was a small gnome with a petulantly whiny voice and a short beard. His eyes had the look of cracked mirrors, reflecting the visions of a nightmare. 

"Heya, guys!" Imoen said, tapping the elf on the shoulder. "Who's winning?"

"AAAAAAGHHHH!" the elf screamed, jumping to his feet and overturning the chessboard in the process. "Sneak attack! Werewolves, bad doggies everywhere!" 

"Tiax always wins, insignificant one," the gnome said in a superior voice. "And you have interrupted his glorious conquest, begone with you!" 

"Sorry," Imoen said, backing off. "I guess I forgot myself." She felt really sorry about spooking poor Dradeel, the elf was nervous enough as it was. _I don't think he even remembers that I met him before. Back when me and Rini and the others travelled to that island that was all overrun by werewolves, and some of them tried to kill us and the others wanted us to become werewolves as well. I guess it's no wonder he's nervous, having lived there alone, marooned, for all those years. I didn't really mean to startle him like that. But I am getting better at sneaking, that's good!_

Sighing a little, Imoen walked over to a table where some ragdolls lay, giving them a bored look. _Honestly, they expect us to spend our time playing with dollies? I haven't done that in years. Though I suppose I could always pretend one of them was Coordinator Wanev…and maybe the others want to play as well…_

Five minutes later the doll that most resembled the Coordinator was looking much the worse for wear. Imoen was currently in the process of seeing how far she could stretch its neck before it gave way, and by now the seams were beginning to creak. Tiax was gleefully egging her on, but Dradeel was hiding under the table, still muttering about his werewolves. _This is kinda fun_ , Imoen thought as she went on to toss the doll into the air, while the gnome attempted to hit it with an enchanted club. It was still possible to use magic in the Asylum, just not in any way that would attack the Cowled Wizards. _Not that I'd hit him for real, but pretending never hurt anybody._

"What are you doing?" a small voice suddenly asked, and Imoen turned around to see a little blonde girl standing next to her. 

"Oh!" Imoen said, smiling. "Hi, Dili! Just playing…"

"Poor dolly," the girl said, looking solemn. "Can I have him instead? I wanna play that he's my baby, and put him to bed and change his nappies…" 

Imoen briefly contemplated Coordinator Wanev in nappies, being fed from a bottle. A slow grin spread across her face. "Sure, Dili," she said, handing the girl the toy. "Here you go." 

"Thanks!" the girl said, smiling brightly in return. "Wanna see the some of my new faces? I'm getting kinda bored with this one. I think I'll be…you!" A brief flash of light surrounded the child, and then Imoen found herself staring at an exact copy of herself, down to the roots of her pink hair where the natural auburn was showing, and the hateful scar that crossed her right eye. She had seen Dili's tricks before, but it was eerie seeing it done with her own face. _Poor kid. I can't believe her parents turned her in to the Cowlies just because she was a natural shapechanger! She's so sweet, she never harmed anybody. How can anybody do that to their own kid?_ Dili never talked about her parents much, only to say that they were mad at her for 'taking faces', but it was clear that she missed them. _Locking a little kid up like this…it's just so unfair! I'd like to smack those Cowlies real good for it. It's even worse than what they did to me. I wonder what Rini would think…she can do this kind of thing too._

"That's nice," Imoen said, ruffling the girl's hair. It felt really odd to be ruffling the hair of your own mirror image, but she did it all the same. "Maybe something different though? Makes me feel weird to be looking at myself from the outside." 

"All right," Dili agreed. "I'll be a…a doggie!" Another flash of light, and a tiny black and white puppy sat on the floor, panting, its tongue lolling out of its mouth in a silly doggy smile. 

"YAAAAARRRRHHH!" Dradeel screamed, scrambling out from his hiding place under the table, and then he started rushing frantically about the room, arms waving and his eyes practically popping out of his head. "Werewolf! Werewolf! Keep it away from me! Keep it awaaaayyyy!" 

"Fool!" Tiax shouted. "Tiax is plotting world domination! If you disturb his meditations again, he will pop you like a ripe pimple!" 

Imoen shook her head. _Yep_ , she thought. _Just another regular day in the nuthouse._

A quarter of an hour later Imoen had moved on to the 'artistry' table, where the inmates were provided with such exciting things as finger-paints and clay for sculpting. She wasn't really in the mood for painting, but she grabbed a lump of clay and idly started rolling it around in her hands. _I wonder if maybe I could…yeah! I could! It would be really great too, I bet!_ Feeling quite excited about her idea she started sculpting from memory, giggling quietly to herself now and then. _Adahn would kill me if he saw this, but it's not as if he'll ever find out or anything. And it would be so great to have a nice statue of him to keep me company. I bet that if I slept with it next to me, I'd get really interesting dreams too. Now let's see…how big should I make it? Pity I can't make it life-size, but if I can smuggle it out with me when I escape, I can maybe do a larger one later, based on this one. About the length of my arm should do it for now._ Humming happily to herself, Imoen went on working. The statue was coming along quite nicely, she thought, though she hadn't quite been able to change the incredibly outraged look on its face into the smouldering look of hot seductiveness that she was aiming for. It still looked as if it wanted to throttle her, but it was very lifelike. "Oh, don't be difficult!" she scolded the statue. "You just wait and see; it'll look really great. I'm trying to do you justice." 

She could practically hear the older rogue's voice, each word dropping like a lump of ice from his lips. _Justice? That is a nude statue._

"Yup! And it looks really good too, doesn't it?"

_That is beside the point. There are certain things that are not supposed to be displayed in public, and that is one of them. And so is that. How do you even know about my…anatomy anyway?_

"Oh, come on! I'm not blind you know, and I can guess about the rest. And you just proved me right, so nyah!" 

_'Nyah'? Being very mature today, aren't we?_

"Helps me have fun…" Imoen smiled a little wistfully. "You know, I miss you. You always took me seriously, ever since the first time we met. Not too many people do that. If I meet you again, I promise I won't tease you too badly with this statue. I know you're taken and all that, it's just a bit of fun." 

_I know that._

"You do?"

_Yes. That is why I haven't killed you already._

Still smiling, Imoen continued her work. Suddenly she felt eyes upon her and turned around to see one of her fellow inmates watching what she was doing. "Are you talking to yourself?" Aphril asked. "Or with somebody that only you can see?" The wizardess had always spooked Imoen a little. She was in her forties or so, with dark brown hair and a tense, frightened face, her eyes just a little too wide and staring. 

"To myself," Imoen said. "Well, pretending to be talking to a friend, really." 

"I see…" Aphril said, then laughed a shrill and very unnerving little laugh. She always did that when somebody mentioned seeing. The reason why she was here was because her experiments had unhinged her, making her constantly see inhabitants of other planes, and also into other times and places, something that had driven her quite mad with terror. Right now, she gave the statue an interested look. "Would have liked to know him, once. Of course, now I see things a bit differently." Again, that shrill laughter. "Where is he, this friend of yours?"

"I dunno," Imoen said, feeling uncomfortable and not wanting to say too much. "I haven't seen him in a while, you see." She only realised her unfortunate phrasing once Aphril laughed again, and she had to suppress an urge to cover her ears. 

"Would you like to?" Aphril asked. "I could show you; you know. I can see through the planes, through time, across distance. I can see anything. I can see your friend, if you want me to, and show him to you." She pointed at the statue. "Maybe not quite like that, it would depend on what he's currently doing of course." 

Imoen hesitated. It felt a bit like spying. On the other hand, she was very eager to see her friend again. _Maybe…maybe I could even somehow let him know I'm here! Maybe I could try with Rini too?_ "Could you show me somebody else too?" she asked. "Another friend?"

"Not without knowing what they look like. I can see everywhere, but I need to know who to search for." Aphril laughed, finishing with a nasty throat sound that sounded like she was choking on her own phlegm. "Yesss….I see everywhere! I see live people! I see dead people! Here, there, everywhere, above and below and beyond. They're close you know. As close as if they're standing just behind a thin veil, but the veil is torn in places, and I can see, I can see…and sometimes…sometimes they look back at me!" She sobbed a little, rubbing at her eyes. "I don't want them to see me…"

Imoen shivered. "I'm sorry," she said, patting the other woman's arm. "You don't have to do this if it upsets you." 

"No! I want to. You're nice. And it will help keep me from seeing…other things for a while. Let me borrow that." Aphril carefully picked the statue up, and she seemed to be staring through it rather than at it. "That is strange…" she said. "I can see him…I can see him clearly. But it is…as if he can almost see me as well." 

"You can see him? You can? Really? Wow! What's he doing? Where is he? Does he look all right? What's he doing? Oh, I can't wait to see him!"

"A moment," Aphril said, her voice soft. "I…will show you." 

Imoen waited eagerly, and then gasped as a misty window formed in the air in front of her. Her eyes widening with excitement, she leaned forward to watch. 

It was definitely getting hotter, Dekaras was pleased to notice. Not that Nashkel was that far south of Beregost, but there was still a difference. And of course, after Icewind Dale just about anything would be a marked improvement. _No matter what reasons Edwin thought he had for doing what he did, you would imagine he would be considerate enough to think of a slightly more pleasant location._ Then he thought about Edwin’s geographical skills for a moment. _On second thought, this is the boy who can barely find Thay on a world map. I suppose it was the only place he could think of off the top of his head. Pity he could think of one. Even in my somewhat disadvantaged state I believe I would have been suspicious if he had tried to dispatch me to ‘That big country that’s shaped almost like a weasel’. I really ought to get the test paper where he first used that excuse framed or something…_

The assassin had made good time on his journey south and had reached the small town of Nashkel soon before nightfall. Right now, he was enjoying a leisurely stroll around the place, not feeling the least bit ready to retire yet. Thinking of Edwin naturally brought him back to the topic of the boy’s whereabouts, and whether he was all right, not something that was likely to make him relax. But he still thought he had done the right thing. He trusted Poppy as much as himself, and she was the one person in the world he would trust with keeping track of Edwin for him. Well, apart from Elvira of course. And while he was extremely anxious to find the wizard, he at least had no immediate reason to believe him in danger. Imoen, on the other hand…he was really worried about the girl. Zaerini too, certainly, but her he didn’t know quite as well, and didn’t feel the same sense of responsibility for her. 

_I saved Imoen’s life once, and I took it upon myself to train her. That means I have a duty towards her, as long as she isn’t fully trained. It may not be the exact same duty as to Edwin, but she is my student. More than that, I like her._ Smiling a little to himself, Dekaras skirted around the buildings, preferring to keep to the shadows away from the main street. Well, the street, if you wanted to be picky. Staying hidden came almost automatically. _And little Imoen may well learn the same one day. She certainly has natural aptitude._ That wasn’t the reason for his fondness though, even if it was very pleasant to be able to impart his skills to somebody both eager and capable of absorbing the lessons. No, it was her relentless cheerfulness, her natural kindness and optimism, her almost childlike conviction that everything would turn out all right as long as you were a good person. All of which were qualities quite alien to himself of course, and attractive because of it. Also, she trusted in him and wasn’t at all afraid of him. _I would love to introduce her to Poppy someday. I still think she must have some halfling blood. I never would have thought I would put up with something like That Picture from anybody but Poppy._

There was a large tree that seemed to be beckoning him invitingly, and he climbed to a high branch almost without thinking about it, and then lazily settled down, resting his back against the trunk. Yes, it certainly was hotter here. Hesitating only briefly, he pulled his shirt off. _Much better._ To be sure, it made him a bit more visible, since his naturally pale skin would stand out against the dark tree, but it wasn’t as if he was working anyway. And the smooth and slightly cool tree-bark felt perfectly soothing against his back. Stretching a little in a motion that would have made most people topple off the branch, he allowed himself to relax. Well, almost. There was that one corner of his brain that was almost always awake and alert, scanning for possible threats. Sights, sounds, smells, whatever might be the first warning of some form of attack. It wasn’t that he was expecting one of course. But he knew that the attacks that you were not expecting were the ones you really needed to be on guard against. After all, those were the sorts of attacks he’d make himself, given the chance. So, relaxation was a precious luxury, something to be treasured. Even more so when it was enjoyed in the presence of the woman he loved. 

Closing his eyes, he allowed his mind to drift a little. Oh yes. That Picture. He still felt a little guilty about not having realized sooner that Imoen had developed some sort of insane infatuation with him, the gods help her. Had he done so, he could have saved her some heartache, and them both a good deal of embarrassment. _I guess Poppy is right. I really do ‘suck in the emotional savviness department’ sometimes._ Of course, had he snipped the whole thing in the bud, that likely would have meant never getting to know the girl in the first place, and he could admit to himself that he would really have regretted that. Still, the guilt was yet another reason for wanting, no needing to make certain she was well. The chances of that seemed slim, however. _Vampires. I can guess why vampires would be interested in the blood of a Child of Bhaal. But why take the others as well? And that vampire hinted at somebody else before I killed him. No, there must be more to it than the obvious explanation, and that means there is still a chance they are alive._ And if they were alive, he would do what he could. The only thing that would take precedence would be if Poppy should learn of Edwin’s whereabouts, and if the boy should need swift aid. _I am certain I can handle both though. Somehow. Hopefully without resorting to overdosing on potions of Haste. Or winding up with an ulcer. For once I almost think it’s a good thing, we never had more than one child. Keeping track of one was quite enough of a chore, but I will simply have to manage. Somehow._

Thoughts of Imoen and of That Picture led him trying to envision his lover’s most likely reaction to being exposed to said picture. _I wonder which one of us she would attempt to kill first? Probably me. Hopefully me. At least I would be able to dodge, I’m not certain Imoen would. Not that it wasn’t entirely innocent of course, but somehow I doubt Elvira would see it that way._ Perhaps it would have been a good idea to burn That Picture after he got hold of it, but he had been paranoid about some mage somehow getting hold of it and reconstructing it from the ashes. Better to keep it himself, and make very, very certain that Elvira never saw it. True, sometimes it could be a little awkward that the love of his life was likely to put a deadly curse on any woman she thought expressed more than polite interest in him, but he didn’t really mind too much. Well, not most of the time. It was part of her after all, and she was perfect. _As perfect as the first time I met her. No, maybe not the first time. I thought she was an annoying brat that time if I recall correctly. Come to think of it, I did that the second time as well._ Still, he had loved her then, and even more so now. 

The assassin sighed a little, pulling one leg up towards his chest as he stretched the other one out, putting his arms behind his head. _Ah, my beloved. So much time we have spent apart now. Too much time. Yet I carry you with me, always._ He could almost see her in front of him. That beautiful and regal face, dominated by the flashing dark eyes that seared your soul, and framed by hair the color of midnight. Yet her beauty was only part of what he loved about her. _She is one of a kind, a force of nature like a storm or a flood wave. Brilliant, loving, deadly. What more could any man want?_

He could almost hear her voice close by his ear, a low and feminine chuckle. _Nothing, my Wolf_ , it said. _I should certainly hope so, at least._ His imagination provided him with even more impressions, of soft lips pressing against his own, sending hot little tendrils of flame into his brain. Smooth and perfectly manicured fingernails stroking along his jaw line and down along his neck, making his muscles tense automatically wherever they touched. The lips followed suit, and he couldn’t quite suppress a small shiver. Almost, almost, he could feel a deliciously curvaceous body pressing against his own as if she wanted to meld into him. As she had done on the last time they had made love, before he departed Thay. She had always enjoyed driving him out of his mind, making him lose control utterly, and they both took pleasure in that game, but that was not all there was. No, not at all. 

It had been a hot night, hotter than this one by far, just a little humid and with a heady smell of jasmine in the air. But no flower could compare with the sweet scent of her hair as he pressed his face against it, breathing in deeply. He was standing behind her, his arms tightly wrapped around her waist, feeling her body firmly pressed against his own. Slowly, with all the finesse normally reserved for disarming a particularly dangerous trap he reached a hand up to slide her delicate white summer dress down a little, baring a lovely shoulder, with soft skin that felt hot to his touch, hot enough to make him burn. Allowing his fingers a quick excursion a little deeper into the dress he was pleased to hear her draw in breath sharply with surprise, and feel her tense at his touch, then give a little delighted laugh. 

She turned around in his arms, her eyes even darker than usual with the force of her passion, and she bared her teeth in something that was half smile, half snarl. “It appears I am still able to keep you entertained, my Mistress,” he had told her, taking care to keep his voice entirely calm and composed. “I am pleased that after all this time you have not grown bored with me.” 

That was as far as he got before she put her arms about his neck and pulled his face down towards hers, their lips meeting forcefully. There was an indeterminate period of time during which all rational thought fled as he eagerly explored that hot and willing mouth, the taste of her intoxicating him to the point where he was quite ready to give up breathing if only it meant enjoying her a little longer. Eventually they had to come apart for air however, both of them breathing quite heavily. She was still holding onto him, her one hand resting at the nape of his neck, the other caressing his cheek. “On the day I grow bored with you, my Wolf, you may as well order a coffin for me,” she whispered, her voice a little hoarse. “For that would mean I would be dead and beyond all hope of resurrection.” Then she gave his hair a playful little tug. “On the other hand, your touch probably would be enough to wake me from the dead…” 

“I suppose there is a certain symmetry to that,” he said, giving her a crooked grin. “Seeing that your beauty will surely slay me one of these days, the helpless victim of a cruel nymph. Then again, I am prepared to take my chances.” 

“Oh good,” she murmured as she started unlacing his shirt. “But you must wait a little while…it is my turn.” Then her hands, slim but strong, were sliding across his chest, as if she was trying to memorize the feel of it. “Very nice…very, very nice.” Then her mouth brushed his throat, kissing, licking, biting gently. “Mmmm…better than nice. Maybe I should eat you all up…” 

“You…could try, I suppose.” Her hands were going to drive him mad very soon. “Though I rather think…I might stick in your throat.” 

Her smile as she raised her face from the hollow of his throat was utterly fiendish, and the look in her eyes as they traveled downwards along his body was extremely suggestive. “Really? Now I shall definitely have to give it a try…” 

That did it. Unable to suppress a low growl deep in his throat he took a firm grip on her, making certain to grasp her by a body part eminently well suited for lifting, and he swiftly moved towards the magnificent bed that dominated the dark bedroom, with her laughing contentedly all the way. Once he had her exactly where he wanted her, he progressed to get rid of all annoying obstacles, her clothing being the premiere one. As always, he marveled at how in this particular situation female underwear always became more difficult to get past than the trickiest lock he had ever faced. Only deeply ingrained reflexes made him patiently work his way past every little hook and button, rather than simply tearing the gauzy garments off his beloved’s delectable body. Well, that, and stubborn pride. Of course, she did nothing to help, preferring to keep teasing him with her caresses, doing her level best to distract him. Eventually he managed though, and he took a few moments to admire the sight in front of him, the form of a wicked goddess smiling up at him, her eyelids half closed as he stoked her fires with all the skill he was able to muster. Her body was covered with a fine sheen of sweat by now, and it wasn’t all due to the heat either, and now and then she would make little inarticulate noises. Pausing for a moment he tilted his head to one side and gave her a look along the length of his nose. “Are you satisfied yet, beloved?” he asked, giving her just the tiniest feather-light brush of his fingers. Precision. That is the key. Not too soft, not too hard, not too fast and not too slow. “Would you like me to stop? Or to go on? You only have to say the wor…” 

And then he realized that he had perhaps pushed her just a little bit too far as his remaining articles of clothing disintegrated clear off his body, leaving only a dissolving cloud of black dust. “Spell trigger,” she hissed as she pulled him down into the bed beside him. “Don’t you just love them? Where were we…oh yes. Please go on. Now.” His final thought as she reached for him was that he was probably about to go insane with pleasure and that he did not mind one bit. Then he did not think much of anything at all for quite some time as they came together, moving as one. One body, one mind, one heart. It was the dance of ‘now’ of ‘us’ and of ‘always’, and above all it was the dance of joy. 

Afterwards they lay together, as closely as possible despite the heat. He wasn’t entirely certain which were his own legs, and which were hers, and it didn’t feel as if he had a single solid bone left in his body. Not that he cared. She was nestled in the crook of his arm, her fingers running through his tangled hair. She had always loved to play with it, adoring its thickness. The closeness of her was a quiet bliss, and he tried to lie absolutely still, not daring to move for fear of waking up to find it had all been a dream. “You will go on the morrow,” she eventually said, her voice now tinged with longing. “Both of you.” 

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. It was all too true. Edwin’s mission would mean a long journey, and he would go too, doing whatever he could to keep their child from harm. There was never any question of doing otherwise of course, despite the same longing that filled his soul already. 

“So far,” she said. “I know it has to be, but it is just…always we have had to hide, to be careful. So much time lost. And now you will be so very far from me…so very far away. It is not fair.” 

He shook his head. “Perhaps…but not all things are fair. You know that.” 

“I don’t care! I don’t want to lose you. I could never stand it, you know that.” 

“Listen,” he said, grasping her hand and placing it across his chest, right above the heart. “You will not lose me. I carry you with me, always. I always will. As I hope you do me.” 

There had been a few tears glistening in her eyes, something she would never let anybody else see, but her voice was strong as ever. “I do,” she said. “You know I do. I love you.”

“And I love you.”

“Then rest a while with me beloved. You have a long journey before you, and you need to gather your strength.” 

”Then,” he said, smiling, “it is probably already too late. But…I will try my best.” Allowing himself to relax completely he closed his eyes, leaning into her soothing touch. Love. Trust. Safety. Peace. Still smiling, he had let himself fall asleep, the kind of sleep that carried no dark dreams with it. 

Present time, and he opened his eyes, a trace of a smile still lingering on his lips as he stared out into the darkness surrounding the tree he had climbed. She felt so close, almost close enough to touch. _I will return for you, beloved. I promised you that, and you know I keep my promises. Always._

Odd though…he could almost swear he felt another presence as well, as if somebody were watching, yet he was certain nobody was close by. It felt almost like scrying, yet not quite the same, and it was strangely familiar somehow. After a few moments it disappeared, however. Shrugging he climbed down from the tree. There was nothing he could do about it at the moment, except be on his guard. _Which I would be anyway, of course. And tomorrow, onwards towards Athkatla._

Back in Spellhold, Imoen blinked as the vision Aphril had summoned faded from sight. She still couldn’t get over the way he had looked at her. Well, not at her, more like through her. _He will never look at me that way_ , she thought, and with a sad certainty she knew it to be true. _That is the way he looks at her. Whoever she is. I hope she knows she’s really lucky._ Sure, he was still her friend, and that was good, and she had known already that that was all he would ever be to her. Still, for a moment there she had caught a glimpse of what might have been, and while she wasn’t exactly jealous, she still felt longing.


	36. Stringing The Harp

**Cards Reshuffled 36 – Stringing The Harp**

_I can’t really imagine ever wanting to be a part of a large organization of any kind. I don’t think that’s very strange either, considering that I’ve met several of the people leading large organizations. I wouldn’t trust those to make me coffee, much less order me about._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Arrrgh!” Korgan yelled, spittle flying. The dwarf looked as if he was ready to eat his own battleaxe with frustration. “This tomb looks to be looted! The rank, stinking bastards beat us here! Those scoundrels'll dine on me sup of cold steel 'afore I'm through with 'em!”

Zaerini looked about herself, trying to confirm the dwarf’s statement. Having found the Nether Scroll, she, Edwin and Jan had joined up with the rest of the party again, and after some more searching they had found themselves in this, another burial chamber. There were several very ugly and very tall statues lining the walls, made from some kind of black stone. They resembled warriors, warriors wearing hideously twisted black armor, and that reminded Rini a bit of Sarevok. Then again, quite a few things had reminded her of her brother lately. In the center of the room there was a large stone sarcophagus, its lid pulled aside. A corpse lay beside it, its head squashed into a bloody pulp, and from what she could see the sarcophagus was quite empty. “Korgan?” she asked. “Was that person one of your old group?”

“Aye lassie, that he was, but that nay be important! What be important is the bloated bladder-brains stole me book, an’ now me axe is yellin’ for the warm embrace o’ their innards! An’ Gabber should nay think he be getting’ away just because o’ bein’ dead.”

“Well, actually I think it is important because…”

“Take that, Gabber!” Korgan shouted, ignoring her entirely as he stormed towards the corpse, clearly intending to go to work on it with his axe. Out of the corner of her eye the half-elf noticed something that she really wished was only a bad dream. The statues were moving, raising arms like giant stone pillars. And one of those enormous hands, belonging to one of the statues closest to the sarcophagus, was covered in blood, and some other sticky matter that she didn’t want to look at too closely. 

“Korgan, wait!” Jaheira ordered. Apparently, the druid had noticed the same thing, and now she was moving forward, quarterstaff raised. It was too late though. With a roar to make the walls shake the statues came to full attention, and at the same time the heavy stone doors slammed shut behind the adventurers. From a dark corner another shape emerged, a slowly shuffling humanoid one, wrapped in must bandages, and smelling strongly of cinnamon, disturbingly enough. “Sssssstinking meat...” it hissed. “Cursssssed with life. There are lawssss even here, rulessss. Final resssst musssst be maintained... defilerssss will die... it is the way of all flesssshhhh. Kaza'sss tome isss gone! Nevaziah'sss ssssstudent ssshall be thy doom. Join me in death…”

“What are you babbling about, you mangy old mummy?” Edwin sneered. “Stop that annoying muttering, or I shall unwrap you fast enough to make you spin clear through the wall. (Yes…mummy dust could be very useful indeed.)”

Anomen was raising his holy symbol towards the mummy, while simultaneously trying to threaten every single one of the stone warriors with his mace. “Stand back, unholy beast!” he threatened. “Or the force of my faith will send you screaming back to the darkness from whence you came!” 

“Ssssay what?” the mummy hissed. “What do you take me for? Sssssome sssstupid little sssskeleton? Your faith issss weak priesssst, too weak for me!” 

“Minsc and Boo are not weak!” Minsc said, holding the angrily squeaking hamster up for the mummy to see. “Look into his little hamster eyes and tremble with fear at his fury!” 

“Hamsssster? I…don’t undersssstand?” 

“Look here!” Rini tried. “It wasn’t us who stole that book. We only just got here. That dead guy on the ground was one of the real thieves, how come you didn’t try to kill them? Well, the rest of them. Obviously, you killed him. Or your golems did, anyway. And is this any way to treat guests? We’re friends of your Master you know!”

“Friendssss?” 

“Sure thing!” the bard said, getting warmed up. “Really good friends. In fact, he’s just outside the door now, I’m sure he’s pretty miffed about you slamming it in his face like that.” 

The mummy trembled slightly. “Massster…outsssside? Sssslamming it in hissss face?”

As if on cue, the dusty voice of Nevaziah the Lich could suddenly be heard right outside the door. “Ingrate! Ungrateful little wretch! Let me in at once or THIS PLACE SHALL BE YOUR TOMB!” 

“But it already isssss my tomb…”

“I SAID LET ME IN NOW!” 

“Yessss Masster, whatever you ssssay Massster!” 

_Phew_ , Zaerini thought, straining to keep her voice focused as she used the special power of her taint to project a perfect imitation of the lich’s voice outside the door. _Don’t know how much longer I can keep this up._

The mummy hesitantly pressed a button on the back of the sarcophagus, and the doors slid slowly open once again. “Right,” Rini said, backing towards the door. “I guess we’ll just leave you to the Master, I’m sure you’ll both be quite busy…” Frantically she motioned for her friends to follow her, while trying not to be too obvious about it. 

“Where’ssss Masssster?” the mummy said. Then an angry orange light flared in its eyes. “Trickssss! Nassssty trickssss! We will ssssquash them! Sssstrike!” Once again, the statues rumbled, and then they were charging towards the adventurers, fists raised. 

“RUN!” Zaerini screamed. She bolted out the door as fast as her legs could carry her, only pausing to make sure that the others were still with her. As she sprinted along the dark corridor, she could hear the thundering steps of the following statues, heavy enough to make the ground shake. 

Meanwhile, Nevaziah the Lich was slowly shuffling along an intersecting corridor, feeling very put out. “Thieves…” he muttered. “Blasted thieves. Here I moved down into a trapped and haunted dungeon in order to be left alone with my work. And I thought I’d finally not be disturbed. But ooooooh no! Trap-infested haunted dungeons of course attract these…these adventurers, like flies to honey. Show them an ugly monster twice their size, and the first thing they ask is ‘How much treasure does it have?’ Insane. All of them.” 

The lich struggled along, his joints creaking. When he’d become a lich, he hadn’t quite counted on the many little annoyances that came with undeath. Such as worms. Worms were not creatures he had ever feared before, but only this morning he’d found that there was a half dozen of them crawling about inside his right ear, eating…well, he didn’t want to think too hard about what they were eating. Possibly that was the reason why he’d been feeling increasingly forgetful lately. Another petty annoyance was that a lich’s body simply wasn’t designed for running. A slow lurch was the best he could do, and while it looked spooky, it wasn’t very efficient. And that creaking knee was driving him bonkers. 

Perhaps he should try to become a demi-lich. At least then he wouldn’t have to bother about worms, being mostly incorporeal. _And it would show snooty old Kangaxx too. Huh, he thinks he’s so great just because he has an unlimited number of Imprisonment spells. I call that cheating. The rest of us have to memorize our spells just like any old live wizard. And the way he keeps bragging about his stupid gilded skeleton makes me quite sick. I mean, how tacky can you get, painting your entire skeleton with gold paint? Next, he’ll probably have his teeth replaced with diamonds or something. And then he’ll pretend to be modest about it and go ‘Oh, this? It’s just a little something I had hanging in my wardrobe, nothing special really’. And his crypt is much bigger than mine, much nicer, even if the neighbors are noisier. I WANT AN INNER-CITY CRYPT TOO! IT’S NOT FAIR! And then there’s that ring…I still haven’t figured out how he manages to wear it when he’s only a skull, really. I do know in which body part he used to wear it when he was still alive though. I call that disgusting. No class at all. Just like that wizard who stole my Nether Scroll, the one with that gross chain hanging from his face. What is it with young people today? Have they no sense? I bet that one would adore Kangaxx’s stupid old golden skeleton. Whereas I have my sense of taste still intact. This hat was good enough for me two hundred years ago, and it’s certainly good enough now._

Nevaziah’s musings were interrupted by a loud voice coming towards him. It was voices shouting, and running feet, and some very heavy and rumbling sounds. _I wonder what that might be? If the apprentices are running in the halls again, I’ll have their hides. And where did my Ducky go anyway?_

Then he rounded the corner and stopped in his tracks. He just had time to see the thieves who had stolen his Nether Scroll running towards him, the redheaded girl, the odd gnome and the rude wizard with the tasteless nose ring, and raised his hand to obliterate them with a single spell, probably a Symbol of Death or something. Then he noticed there were some other people with them. Also, one of those other people, a maniacally grinning dwarf, noticed him. 

“Har!” the dwarf roared. “It be a Bag o’ Bones! Always wanted to try this…” A throwing axe whistled through the air, burying itself between Nevaziah’s eyes, and the force of the impact made him stagger. It couldn’t really hurt him of course, since it wasn’t enchanted, but it was enough to give him a splitting headache. Literally so. And there wasn’t much left of his poor nose either. Before he had the time to retaliate, the adventurers rushed past him, rudely pushing him aside and not even looking back. He was just about to send a few lethal Death Spells after them when it suddenly occurred to him that the rumbling sound had grown even louder, and he turned around just in time to see what was heading towards him. 

“Uh-Oh…” Nevaziah the Lich said in a very small voice, and then he said nothing more for a while. It is extremely difficult to talk when your face has been pressed into the ground by about two dozen very large and very heavy feet stomping all over your body. Being undead didn’t mean ‘unable to feel pain’. After he had lain there for a while, trying to figure out exactly how many of his bones were broken, he heard a nervous voice hissing next to him, and felt somebody anxiously prodding his shoulder. 

“Masssster? Masssster, are you well?”

Nevaziah’s bony hand shot out to grab the mummy by the shoulder, his claws digging into it painfully. “I have an axe in my head, and I was just run over by your rampaging herd of giant statues. What do you think, Im-Po-Tent?” 

“Sorry, Masssster…”

“Where did the thieves get to, did you see?”

“They essscaped, Massster. The ssstatuessss can’t climb ssstairs, you ssssee.”

“Wonderful. Just wonderful.” 

“I could catch them, Masssster!” Im-Po-Tent eagerly offered. “I know thissss nice ssspell that would make them get eaten up by bugsssss…or I could sssssummon a sssand sssstorm.” 

“All right give it a try if you want to. But most likely the Nether Scroll will destroy them anyway and serve them right too.” Picking his sadly squashed favorite hat up off the floor, Nevaziah gave it a sad look. “And here I was so happy that at least they hadn’t stolen this, my most valuable treasure. There’s no justice in the world, none at all. Only one thing could possibly make this an even worse day than it has been so far. Only one creature is even more hateful than those rude little thieves who stole my Nether Scroll.” 

As if on cue, there was a shimmering in the air, the shimmering of a scrying spell, and the vision of a floating skull appeared. The skull was glittering gaudily with gold paint, and indeed one of its teeth had been replaced with a large diamond. The skull was chewing on a large cigar. “Nevaziah, old pal!” the skull said. “How’s it going down there in that sad dump you call home? You should come visit some time…I’m thinking of installing a nice little pool, for only 500 000 gold. You should get one, well, if you could afford it. You could do with some exercise I’m sure, you look awful.”

“Hello, Kangaxx,” Nevaziah said between clenched teeth. “How…nice of you to call. I was…only just thinking of you.” _No, no justice in the world. If there was, Kangaxx and the thieves would kill each other off for me. Hm…now that gives me a few nice ideas…_

-*-

“Wow…” Zaerini said as she stared down the stairs leading down towards the tombs. “That was close.” Below her, several statues still shuffled around, vainly trying to climb up the narrow and steep steps. A couple had already fallen, shattering into thousands of pieces of pottery. 

“Too close,” Jaheira frowned. “At least we all made it out alive.” 

“And with the Nether Scroll too,” Edwin said, giving his treasure a loving look. He hadn’t been able to resist taking it out of his scroll-case once again, so that he could reassure himself that it was really real. 

“That thing is clearly evil,” Anomen said, giving the wizard a disapproving look. “I can sense if from here.” 

“Who cares? It is incredibly powerful, and it is mine, all mine, and it will make me even more immensely powerful than before, while you remain behind, eating your own fleas.” 

“Take care wizard, or I shall put you in your place once and for all!” 

“I know my place, and it is on the top, with you sniveling at the base of my throne. (Yes…a throne. That sounds about right. Something really fearsome, with skulls on. And statues of demons, I think.)” 

“Put a cork in it, the two o’ ye!” Korgan bellowed. “While ye stand around yappin’, Shagbag and me other former crew be getting’ away with the book o’ Kaza! They’ve gone to sell it to Pimlico already, I wager.” 

“Right,” Rini said, nodding. “Lead the way then, and we’ll see if we can catch up with them.” 

The party set out through the narrow and dusty streets of Athkatla, heading north. Apparently, Pimlico lived in the Temple District, where most of the major gods of Faerun had places of worship. However, they hadn’t come very far before they came upon what seemed to be a robbery. A man was lying bleeding on the ground, looking seriously wounded, and a few other people were standing around him, with one of them rifling through his pockets. “Get out of here!” one of the thugs snarled as he saw the approaching adventurers. “This is none of your business!” 

“Squashing Evil is our business!” Minsc declared, blissfully unaware of Edwin making a circling motion with his finger next to his temple. “Evil may try to sneakily pour salt into the sweet milk of humanity, but Minsc and Boo are ready to CHOP OFF THE HAND HOLDING THE SHAKER! RRRRAARRRRGHHHH!” With that, he charged into battle, the Sword of Chaos swinging wildly about. 

“For the Order!” Anomen cried out, following suit, and chanted a spell that let him draw strength from his god. 

Rini sighed. It seemed there was going to be no avoiding this particular battle. Not that she exactly approved of beating people half to death in order to steal their money, there were less violent ways, but she was also extremely tired and knew that the same went for her friends. Having no spells available, she used her bow to keep the enemy mage distracted and was pleased to see one of her arrows hit the woman neatly in the throat. _Nice. Imoen would have liked that._

Jaheira and Korgan faced a group of three assailants, and the looks on their faces when the druid shapeshifted into a large brown bear were really priceless. Not quite as priceless as the looks on their faces when Jaheira tore one of their faces off though, while Korgan inserted his axe into the belly of the other one. The man’s shrieks were terrible but ended abruptly as Edwin and Jan pelted him with a few Magic Missiles each. 

Shortly, Zaerini approached the wounded man on the ground, her blood still rushing wildly as it always did after a battle. This time she and her friends had suffered no major wounds, which was good, seeing that Jaheira and Anomen were clear out of healing spells. That also meant that the wounded man was in great trouble of course. He didn’t really look good at all, his face was gray, and his breathing labored. “Help…” he moaned. “Help me…please…” 

“We’ll try,” the half-elf said. “How badly are you wounded?”

“It…is not so much my wounds. It is poison…poison in my blood. My name…is Renfeld. I beg of you, take me too my friends…they will heal me. Not far from here…” 

“I can try to heal you myself,” Zaerini suggested. While she wasn’t a healer as such, the Bhaaltaint still allowed her to cure poison, and now she reached out towards Renfeld, her mind searching for the taint in his body. After a few moments she was forced to give up, however. This poison was too strong for her skills. “Right,” she said. “That didn’t work. Where are these friends of yours then? We’ll take you to them.” 

Renfeld nodded gratefully. “A large orange building…in the south west of the Docks District, near the…near the water. Please…I do not have long to live…please take me there! My friends…will be able to heal me.” 

Minsc and Jaheira were pleased with this course of action, Korgan less so, but Rini told him that they would go fetch his book just as soon as Renfeld was taken care of. Anomen said that he thought the man was probably a drunkard aiming for a free ride, but that he would follow her lead. Edwin also stated that he found this entire venture an exercise in futility, but that he would be happy to study his Scroll as they walked. He then proceeded to do just that and was soon absorbed enough that he hardly noticed where he was going. This came to an abrupt halt when he tripped over a rock and only narrowly escaped winding up with his face in the mud. After that, he thought it best to keep an eye on the road. As for Jan, his contribution was that he hoped there would be a reward for this good deed, preferably a turnip-related one. 

Following Renfeld’s directions, the adventurers headed for the docks. It didn’t take them too long to find the house they wanted. Rini had noticed it before, when they were running errands for the Shadow Thieves. A massive old orange monster of a mansion it was, surrounded by a high wall, and with windows that somehow seemed to glare disapprovingly of everybody passing by. She found it incredibly ugly. There was a man standing on guard outside, and as he noticed the by now unconscious Renfeld he looked quite agitated. “Is…is that Renfeld?” he asked. “What has happened to him?”

Jaheira gave the man a long look, as if there was something else she wanted to say, but then she shook her head briefly, as if she had thought better of it. “He stated that he had been poisoned,” she said. “He wished us to bring him here for healing.” 

“Yes…yes, of course!” the man said. “Wait here, I will be right back.” Taking the wounded man inside, he shut the door behind him. 

“Jaheira?” Zaerini asked. “Did you know that man?”

“I have never seen him before,” the druid said in her normal clipped voice. There was something though…something that didn’t feel quite right. 

_You didn’t notice it, kitten?_ Softpaws asked. The black cat was sitting on top of an old barrel, staring intently at a fly circling above her nose. 

_See what? The fly?_

_No, kitten. The shiny thing that the man was wearing on his collar. The druid noticed it too._

_Shiny thing? What kind of shiny thing?_

The cat suddenly snapped, swallowing the fly whole, then licked her mouth. _A pin. It looked like a harp._

_A harp_. Zaerini frowned a little, watching Jaheira. _Harpers? I suppose it could be. Jaheira has always been secretive where the Harpers are concerned._ Eventually the doorman emerged again, thanking her for rescuing Renfeld, and handing over some money as a reward. She pocketed it, fully intent on questioning Jaheira later. But for now, there was the book of Kaza to consider. So deep in thought was she that she didn’t notice the figure lurking in the dark alleyway she was passing by until it darted forward to tug at her sleeve. 

“You there! Unwashed one! I would have words with you.” 

Zaerini startled at the sight of a grotesquely tattooed face peering nervously at her from beneath a mop of tangled brown hair. The eyes belonging to the face were wide and frantic, and glittered feverishly. The person who had accosted her also had a strange way of suddenly staring into empty air and giggling or making other odd noises. He was wearing a black and gold mage robe, and it hung a little too loosely on his skinny frame, as if he hadn’t been eating properly lately. “Xzar?” She heard how incredulous she sounded and berated herself for it. It wasn’t as if you could easily mistake the insane wizard for anybody else. She looked deeper into the alley. _That’s odd. Where’s Montaron?_ She had never seen Xzar without the murderous little halfling around. _And where’s…_

“Urrrrrrghhhh!” The cheerful moan came from what she had first taken for part of a tall garbage heap. Now it moved and revealed itself to be a very large and very rotting zombie. _Abduh. Lovely._ Still, she had to admit that her old childhood antagonist was much more pleasant since Xzar had reanimated him. _I guess death becomes him._

“My lady?” Anomen asked, sounding horrified. “Do you…do you know this…this person? And that…thing?”

“Well…yes,” Rini admitted. “We’ve run into each other a few times. And Abduh and I go way back.” The zombie waved bashfully at the adventurers, then paused to pick one of his fingers up off the ground. 

“So,” Edwin said, “it has been quite some time, Necromancer. Where is that annoying little halfling companion of yours? Did he finally come to his senses and decide to take up with somebody sane? Or did you have a fit and mistake him for a dragon-footed rabbit and wipe him out? (The man is utterly mad. A complete lunatic. But he does certainly have a sound judgment when it comes to pets. Not that I want an actual zombie myself, they are a bit too bulky for travel, but perhaps a small imp…or a Hell Hound. A big black one with red eyes, one that breathes flames. Yes, that would be just perfect…a suitably terrifying and intimidating familiar for a wizard of my stature.)” 

“Nooooo!” Xzar wailed, clinging to Abduh as he buried his face against the zombie’s shoulder. “The…the rabbits! I think they may have been working together, all of them! And they took poor Monty. They’ve taken him, and I can’t find him. I’ve looked everywhere. Under the bed, on top of my head, in the land of the goblins, even in the realm of Missing Socks! But I can’t find him.”

“Urrrrghhh…” Abduh sadly commented, patting the wizard on the back. 

“I know, Abduh. You miss Monty too, and you’re being a _very_ good boy.” As Xzar raised his head he seemed more collected, and Rini tried not to think about the fact that there were now small zombie bits clinging to his face. Evidently the hot weather was making Abduh a little more runny than usual. “I try to keep together,” Xzar said, and now his voice was composed, almost calm, but with a frail and brittle edge. “I have to, since Monty isn’t here to do it for me, and it works most of the time, but…but it hurts. Will you help me find him? I will reward you if you do, and Abduh may even give you a hug.” 

“Urrrrghhh!” 

“Uh…thanks, I guess,” Rini said, hoping she didn’t sound too disgusted. “Find Montaron? I suppose it depends on where you lost him. Where did you last see him?”

Xzar thought about this for a moment. “It wasn’t on the moon made of green cheese…I don’t think he was there. But he was there when I got a visit from that strange duck in the suit. I think…he went into the House of Pain!” 

“The house of what?” Jaheira asked. 

“Clearly the home of some barmy barber,” Jan said. “Have you ever noticed that no matter what haircut you say you want, the only three possible outcomes is to come out looking like a poodle, a parrot or a wet cat? Quite painful.” 

_Hey!_ Softpaws sounded quite outraged. 

_Don’t mind him. He’s just being Jan._

_There is nothing funny about a wet cat, so there. And I may just do something nasty in his boots to remind him._

“I cut my hair myself,” Anomen proudly stated, stroking his brown curls and then moving on to primp his beard. 

“That explains why you look like a mentally ill gorilla,” Edwin remarked, shooting the cleric a poisonous look. “Those ears are big enough that you should be able to fly if you waved them about. I suggest you give it a try as soon as possible, preferably by leaping off a tall building.” Then he noticed the sharp looks that both Zaerini and Jaheira were giving him and looked a little flustered. “Er…of course some people have ears that are larger than the human variety, yet stylish. Very much so. (Especially the way her ears form those pretty little points, perfect for nibbling…) Anyway, I keep my hair long and luxurious, so as to grant the people fortunate enough to gaze upon my divine countenance maximum pleasure. (Apart from that time when I tried shaving, but that is really beside the point.)” 

“Yer both ravin’ ugly and way too tall!” Korgan said with a wicked grin. “Call those soddin’ little rugs beards? I had a better beard in me mother’s belly, an’ the wenches love it! Ye two are nothin’ but mewlin’ infants when it comes to beards.”

“Who are you calling an infant, you foul little bandit?” Anomen demanded, reaching for his mace. 

At the same time Edwin piped up, his eyes dark with rage. “As for beards, dwarf, yours reminds me more of the collected leavings of a century-old bathtub drain than of anything belonging on a living creature.” 

“HAR!” Korgan laughed. “That be some fine spunk ye be showin’ thar, lads. I may not have to kill ye two after all…” The cleric and the wizard startled a little, then gave each other a look of mutual disgust. 

“So, Xzar,” Zaerini rapidly went on, “about this House of Pain…where is it? Do you know?”

“Oh yes!” the necromancer nodded. “Oh yes. It’s right over there, the ugly orange one that hurts to look at.” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “And they are in there, so they are. I still think they’re conspiring with the rabbits.” 

“Who is?”

Xzar’s face twisted up with a disgusted grimace. “The Harpers…the meddlers, the snoops, the Servants of the Rutting Goat with a Thousand Young. They have taken Monty…they may try to turn him into one of them! A hideous, creepy thing with scales and fins.” 

Jaheira’s eyes were frosty. “Harpers do not…” she started. Then she fell silent as Rini pinched her arm. 

_Harpers_ , the bard thought. _Imagine that. This definitely sounds like something worth checking out._


	37. The Book Of Kaza

**Cards Reshuffled 37 – The Book Of Kaza**

_It’s amazing how things can sometimes mean something entirely different than you think they do. You can listen to an entire conversation, believing it’s about one thing, when it’s really about something completely different. And the written word honestly isn’t much better. But at least that makes things more interesting._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“You cannot possibly mean to do this, my lady!” Anomen protested. “Not to do the bidding of that insane necromancer and his zombie!” The cleric was giving Zaerini a look that was something in-between imploring and commanding, and his face was getting flushed. The argument had been going on for several minutes, and the fact that he wasn’t getting anywhere was frustrating him immensely. 

“The Helmite is right,” Jaheira agreed. She clutched her staff tightly, and from the way she kept glaring at Xzar it seemed likely that she meant to use it soon. Come to think of it, Rini wasn’t entirely sure that the druid wouldn’t try to use it on her. “We are being asked to go against the Harpers, to choose evil over good, for the sake of some murderous little thief, a raving lunatic and a zombie.” 

“Oh, calm down, Jaheira!” Zaerini snapped. She had started out trying to be calm and reasonable, but by how she was getting annoyed. “You’re being overly dramatic, and I should know. All Xzar is asking is for us to find out what’s happened to Montaron, and to get him out of that place in case he’s being held prisoner. It’s not as if we’re about to go on a massive killing spree or something. Besides, we do owe them. They helped us in the fight against Sarevok, remember? If they hadn’t done that, we might well have lost. It’s only fair that we do something in return. If it really bothers you, you can always wait behind.” 

“No,” Jaheira said, her accent getting thicker as it always did when she was angry or otherwise upset. “I will go with you. I do not intend to let you infants cause more of a mess than is absolutely necessary.” 

“You won’t _let_ me…” 

“You know,” Jan hastily said, “this conversation does remind me of my cousin’s daughter, Bianca Jansen. She really wanted to become a Harper, you see. And since she knew that they have a ‘Don’t call on us, we’ll call on you’ policy, she thought she’d better try to impress them. So, she set out to do good, in the best way she knew how.” 

“What did she do?” Edwin said, sounding curious and exasperated at the same time. “No doubt something utterly ridiculous involving turnips.” 

“Not at all, Red, not at all! She took it all very seriously, doing research into Wild Magic affecting random events.” 

The Red Wizard looked interested. “Really? And what would be the nature of this research?”

“Well, she looked into how come a piece of toast always lands butter-side down if you drop it. Which was all well and good, apart from the fact that dropping a piece of toast from the third floor can be a bit sticky, especially if the local Harper Herald happens to be walking past right beneath it. Very traumatic experience it was, he had crumbs coming out of his nose for weeks afterwards. And poor Bianca never did get to join the Harpers, even if they are still looking for her. Stuffy people, very prickly. Or crumbly, in this case, but that’s what you get if you walk around with your nose in the air.” 

“Harpers are not prickly!” Jaheira practically screeched, angry red blotches appearing in her cheeks. 

Jan grinned unconcernedly at the livid druid. “Of course not, Jaheira,” he said. “We all know how mellow you are.” 

“Prickly or not,” Zaerini said, “we’re still going to talk to those Harpers, if that is really who they are. But first we’re going to find Korgan’s book. We’ll come back here later.” 

“Aye, it be about time!” Korgan said, shuffling impatiently from one foot to the other. “I’ve had it up to me beard with standin’ about. This dwarf wants action!” 

“I’m with the dwarf,” Edwin said. “That tome sounds very interesting…” 

“What about the poor little Miss Nalia?” Minsc asked, looking anxious. “Minsc promised her that we would be her heroes and use the Broom of Bravery to sweep the halls of her poor castle free of the Dustbunnies of Evil.”

“Aaaaaaahhhh!” Xzar screamed, hiding his tattooed face beneath Abduh’s armpit and trembling. “Don’t mention them…they might hear you! Their eyes…their evil little red eyes…watching! Always watching! Bghzzzrällö! The pods, the pods and the horrible blue cubes of jelly! Some things are best left unknown…” 

“Urrrrrghhh!”

“And those too,” Xzar wailed. “Why do people have teeth, I ask you? IT’S SO THEY WILL FALL OUT WHEN YOU LEAST EXPECT IT! It’s happened in my dreams…and my tongue too…” 

Rini sighed loudly. At the moment, she felt like going back to bed and pulling a blanket over her head. Sadly, that option wasn’t available. “Enough!” she said. She hadn’t thought she’d be that loud, but her voice echoed between the tall walls of the alley in a way that reminded her uncomfortably of Sarevok. Well. At least they shut up. Big Bro, I guess you got some things right. “One thing at a time,” she said, making herself sound considerably milder. “First, we go get the book. Then, we talk to those Harpers and see if there’s anything we can do about Montaron. Then, we talk to this Nalia person, I want to meet her for myself. As for the other things people want us to do, they will simply have to wait for a while. We can’t do everything at once. Everybody got that?” There were a few seconds of embarrassed silence. “Good. Then let’s go get that book. Xzar, you just keep around, we’ll get back to you as soon as possible. See ya, Abduh.” 

“Urrrrghhh!” The zombie sounded quite cheerful, and his wave seemed pleased. _Yep. His personality really did improve after death. Maybe it taught him something. Or maybe it’s just a side-effect of the embalming fluid._

About an hour later the half-elf was rapidly coming to the conclusion that Abduh wasn’t the only person in the world who might benefit from zombie-hood. The adventurers had gone with Korgan to the house where Pimlico, the book-collector lived. The bad feeling Rini got when she noticed that the door was slightly ajar was confirmed when they found Pimlico himself bathing in his blood inside. Apparently, Korgan’s former companions had decided that they wanted both the gold and the book. She had expected the dwarf to be upset about this, but he actually seemed quite cheerful as he explained that he knew exactly where to find them. On the roof of the Copper Coronet, their favorite drinking spot. They would have gone there in order to celebrate before leaving town, apparently it was something of a tradition with the motley crew. Needless to say, Korgan had been very enthusiastic about following them, and there was something very contagious about that enthusiasm. She had a feeling she probably shouldn’t tell Jaheira that she was greatly looking forward to the opportunity to bash somebody’s skull in. 

_And are you, kitten?_ Softpaws asked, as they approached the Copper Coronet. 

_Well…yes and no. Not if they don’t try to do it to me first of course. But…the blood is getting stronger. I can feel it. Part of me wants them to try it, so I can fight. So I can kill. Part of me laughs every time I spill blood. Part of me wants to drink it up, to bathe in it. Part of me is much more dangerous than Korgan._

The cat was silent for a moment. _That may be so, she eventually said. But it is still part of you. He…the Hungry One…he did things to you that made that part stronger, but it was there before him. One small part of a whole. I’ve always seen it._

_You have?_

_Of course. When a familiar is called, we get a sense of the person’s mind, so we go to the person that will best suit us. You’re mine and I love you. I always will. Well, as long as you make sure to pet me properly and keep me well fed of course._

_Of course._ The bard smiled at the black cat walking beside her. _I love you too, Softy._

_Anyway, kitten, it’s not all bad. A cat should have sharp claws, as I’ve said before, and be able to use them. As long as you don’t start scratching everybody in sight, you’ll be fine._

_I’ll try to remember that. Thanks._

_You’re welcome. And that’ll be one bowl of fresh cream, for the wise advice._

_What?_

_Yes. When you go all angsty you make my whiskers hurt. You owe me._ There was a definite amused edge to the cat’s thoughts though, that hinted that her words were less than serious. 

_Fine_ , Rini said, playing along. _Say, if they hurt that badly, maybe I should trim them for you?_ Then she chuckled quietly at the annoyed hiss inside her mind. 

The top of the Copper Coronet wasn’t exactly your regular roof. In fact, it was a maze of small sheds and houses built on top of the vast and sprawling inn, in an effort to save space, not to mention the money needed to buy actual land. There was even a small temple of Ilmater up there, with the white hands symbolizing the Crying God displayed outside. Zaerini hoped that the presence of the temple was a happy coincidence, rather than a bad omen. There was also a group of four tough-looking people up on top of the roof, sitting against one wall and drinking. They were also looking at something on the ground, chuckling and guffawing among themselves. It looked like a big, leather-bound book. Presumably, it was the book of Kaza. The people hadn’t noticed her or her companions yet, since they had the sun in their eyes and the party was still concealed by the shadows by the staircase leading onto the roof.

Suddenly she startled as she felt somebody nudge her hip and she noticed Korgan smirking up at her. “There they be, lassie!” the dwarf said, his eyes crinkling with amusement, and some other, indeterminate emotion. “Me old crew, with nay an inkling of what be awaitin’ them. Can ye feel it? The rush in the blood, the joy in crushin’ yer foes and feelin’ their blood splatter all over yer face? I think so, so I do. I’ve seen the way ye fight. There’s somethin’ there…and I like it.” 

The bard tried not to let her emotions show on her face. For one thing, she wasn’t entirely certain exactly what they were. _Korgan is deeper than I thought at first_ , she thought. _He sees it. He sees the part of me that’s Bhaal. That is Murder._ Unbidden, the visions from her latest Reading came to her. Murder…everywhere, within and without. Following her, sticking to her like blood. “I know what it is you see,” she said. “And I know what it is you feel. But I cannot trust in it, not like you do.” She looked at the seated men. “Now, did you want that book back or not?” 

The fight was short and bloody. After a brief interlude during which Korgan’s ex-party members blustered and threatened, and the dwarf responded in kind, the group on the roof eventually attacked. With the threat of the Cowled Wizards interfering, it was too dangerous to openly use magic, something that irritated Edwin to no end. The wizard kept flinging Thayvian swearwords in time with his sling bullets. The words probably stung more than the stones did. Jan also kept in the back, utilizing his crossbow to great effect, as Jaheira and Anomen headed into the fray, engaging the enemy cleric to keep him from spellcasting. Minsc was having the time of his life, and it seemed that the enemies found the sight of Boo perched on his shoulder almost as frightening as the sword he wielded to great effect. 

As for Korgan, he was roaring with gleeful battlerage, and his axe was an almost invisible blur in the air, deductible only by the blood and random body-parts scattered by it. The dwarf had headed straight for Shagbag, the enemy party leader, and it wasn’t long before his axe drove deep into the man’s belly. Shagbag went down with a terrible gurgling sound, soon cut off as his head was cleanly separated from his body. 

Zaerini kept mostly to her bow, but eventually she reached the point when one of the foes came to close, and she had to resort to her sword. The dark blade felt so natural in her hand, more so than any other weapon previously had. She wasn’t a trained swordswoman and knew she never would be, but it felt as if this sword bit more deeply than any she had used before. _An assassin’s blade should work that way, I guess. And I suppose it’s only fitting that my bite should be worse than my bark._ One man in front of her. _One man. One man…one…victim…_ The heat was in her blood again, and she wanted it, she wanted it badly. _No_ , some other part of her urged. _Kill if you must, but not like that. Not as he wants you to, tempting as it is._ She wasn’t even certain if the ‘he’ was Bhaal, or Irenicus. It didn’t make any difference. _I will have things my way._

_Yes_ , the voice said, and now she recognized it. Not in her ears, not in her mind, but deep within her soul it spoke. It was like the thunder, like a raging storm, and it reverberated in her bones. _Yes, sister. That is the way. Do not repeat my mistake. You are born to rule, not to be ruled. So RULE!_

The voice of her dead brother was a roar within, drenching out the other voice that lived within her, the whispered urgings of Bhaal. Her vision cleared of the red mist that had been obscuring it, and as she drove her sword directly into the armpit of the man she was fighting, neatly avoiding the leather armor he was wearing, she felt eerily at peace. She stood motionless, even as her friends gathered around her, staring at the corpse at her feet, not really noticing it. _Sarevok?_

_It is I, little sister_ , the voice of her brother spoke. _And yet it is not, not fully. You will understand in time._

_Thank you – my brother._

And the voice receded further back into her soul, leaving only the faint echo of low laughter behind. 

“That's one fine mess that I done cleaned up. They did the killin', but I ends up with the gold, the book, and the satisfaction o' kickin' their tails. A good day.”

Korgan’s pleased voice drew Zaerini back from her wildly spinning thoughts. She still had no idea what had just happened, if she had only imagined that she’d heard Sarevok speaking to her or if it had been something else, something more. Whatever the case, the feeling had passed, while the dwarf in front of her was another matter entirely. “I guess so,” she said. “So, what about our deal?”

“Aye,” Korgan nodded, stroking his beard. “Fair enough. Ye can go ahead an' search Shagbag's corpse...the blasted fool. Th' bleedin' book might still be worth something if it's intact. Ye can have either that or the gold these donkey-humpin’ ninnies already got from Pimlico. Which will ye take?”

“The book,” the bard said without hesitation. _Eddie would never forgive me if I didn’t give him the chance to check it out._ Gingerly sorting through the corpses she eventually found what she was looking for. 

The book of Kaza was fairly big and bound in red leather. Despite the obvious age of the tome, its pages still felt crisp and fresh at her touch. 

“What does it say?” Edwin asked. The wizard was eagerly leaning over her shoulder, close enough that his beard actually tickled her cheek. “What does it say? Go on, open it! Are there any spells in there? Terrible secrets from ancient Netheril? Maybe some demon summoning spells? Come on, open it, I want to see!” He was practically hopping from one foot to the other with excitement, and his dark eyes were glittering fervently. His hand was clutching her shoulder, and she thought she could feel it tremble a little bit. Come to think of it, she felt pretty shaky herself. Being in this close physical proximity to the Red Wizard made strange things happen to her, and she was having great problems concentrating on anything but his touch and the fact that she could feel his breath, hot against her skin. Even the atrocious nose-ring wasn’t enough to detract from the pleasurable whole. 

_He is so…so…_ For once words failed her utterly as she unconsciously moved a tiny bit, enough for his body to come into closer contact with her back, as well as with her posterior. It felt very nice, and she was pleased to notice the sudden sharp intake of breath that followed. She could feel her eyes narrowing with pleasure. _So…perfect. I want him to…I want him to…I want…him…  
¨  
That’s right, kitten!_ Softpaws sounded extremely satisfied. _Go on, I’ll help talk you through it, step by step!_

_Eh? Talk me through…_ The redheaded half-elf was suddenly startled as she remembered where she was. On the roof of the Copper Coronet. In broad daylight. With several corpses bathing in their own blood at her feet. Suddenly blushing furiously, she reluctantly moved aside a little from Edwin, though she still was happy to feel his touch on her shoulder. She noticed that Jaheira was watching her like a hawk, Minsc was looking puzzled, Jan grinning with vast amusement, Korgan winking at her and…

“My lady!” Anomen was hovering by her other shoulder by now, close enough that she felt as if she were about to be squashed flat between him and Edwin. _All right, I’d be dead. But what a way to go…_ The cleric’s cheeks were pink with emotion, and his dark blue eyes shone. “Allow me to first scour that unholy thing of all dark magic, that its foul touch may not contaminate your purity.” He then shot Edwin a dark look. “It would be my honor and my pleasure to also cleanse the area of all other corruptive influences.” Raising his hand, he reached for the book of Kaza, his hand brushing lightly against hers. 

“Stand aside, priest!” Edwin hissed, raw anger present in his voice. “I warn you, do not lay so much as a finger on what is not yours to touch, unless you want me to magically remove your arm, charbroil it with salt and red pepper, and then insert it far enough past your final sphincter that you will be able to tickle your own uvula from behind. That is the dangly thing visible every time you let your mouth hang open with your typical bovine stupidity, if you need it further explained.”

A dark flush spread across Anomen’s throat, and when he retorted his voice was more clipped than usual, almost shrill with fury. By now his eyes didn’t look blue anymore, but black, and his beard was practically bristling. “Methinks the wizard doth presume too much. You have no more official claim here than do I, and the lady Zaerini is wise enough not to entrust her treasures to a wriggling serpent like yourself. You have no right to speak for her.” 

“I’ll show you serpent, you posturing second-rate paladin imitation! (I will have his ‘treasures’ if he touches her again, and I’ll force-feed them to him until they make him choke. And if I have a serpent, he has to make do with a tiny earthworm.) Get away from h…from the book!” 

Smirking, Anomen stuck his arm firmly under Zaerini’s with a look on his face that suggested he was about to stick his tongue out at the wizard. “Make me, foul fiend.” 

Snarling, Edwin grasped her other arm hard enough that it almost hurt, while he simultaneously was trying to get his spell components out using only one hand. “Oh, I will!”

“That’s enough!” Rini shouted, twisting out of the grasp of both men. “What in the world is wrong with you two? For the gods’ sakes, it’s only a stupid _book_!” For some reason this made Korgan guffaw loudly, Jan chuckle and even Jaheira’s mouth twitched a little. Minsc looked utterly confused though. She had no idea what they were about, but it made her even more annoyed than before. “I mean, really! You’re both acting as if you’re about six years old. What’s next? ‘My Daddy can beat up your Daddy?’ Now shake hands and tell each other you’re sorry.” 

The two men gave her strangely similar pleading looks that crossed the border from ‘pathetic’ to ‘lost puppy’. 

“But my lady…”

“Hellkitten, I…” 

Steeling her heart against those pleading eyes she crossed her arms beneath her breasts and gave the two antagonists a firm look as she tossed her hair away from her face and across her shoulder. “I said _now_. Do it. Both of you.” 

Both of them looking extremely reluctant, the two men grasped each other’s hands. It looked as if Anomen was doing his very best to crush Edwin’s hand to pieces, and he only stopped after the wizard somehow managed to twist the cleric’s thumb into what looked to be a very painful position. “Go on. Say you’re sorry,” Zaerini insisted. 

“Sorry,” Anomen muttered in a murderous voice. 

“Sorry,” Edwin echoed, sounding equally eager for blood. 

Rini gave them a few seconds. “You’re both crossing your fingers behind your backs,” she told them in a dangerously calm voice. “Don’t think I can’t see you. Now do it over again.” 

Once Edwin and Anomen had reluctantly muttered their not very heartfelt excuses to each other again, the bard nodded. “That’s better. Now, let’s get back to that book.” Opening the ancient tome, she stared at what at first appeared to be completely blank pages. Then, however, something changed. There were letters appearing, ancient runes that she couldn’t quite comprehend, and then there were…pictures. And not just any pictures, either. They were pictures of men and women together in positions that mostly seemed anatomically impossible, but that made her feel very curious to find out if they actually were. The pictures were in color, and looked quite lifelike, and it certainly seemed as if the people in the pictures were having a great time. She stared, transfixed, as the pictures started to move, illustrating the things they were supposed to teach even more vividly than before. She was feeling very hot all of a sudden, and as she flipped back to the title page, she noticed that she could read that at least. “Kaza’s Book of Erotic Secrets,” she said. “Oh my.” Both Edwin and Anomen looked very wide-eyed as they peered over her shoulders, and both of them started guiltily as she slammed the book shut. 

“Thar be a fine an’ poetic irony fer ye,” Korgan laughed. “Riskin’ our necks oe’r a bit o’ Netherese flesh-lore, when this here dwarf already be a demon ‘twixt the sheets! Har!” 

“I want it!” Edwin suddenly blurted out. “Can I have it? Can I? (Not that I need it as such, my Erotic Onslaught is already quite impeccable, but it never hurts to seek out new inspiration…)”

“Um…sure, I guess,” Rini said, handing the wizard the book. “But we’ll sell it once you’re done reading it.” 

Anomen looked severely disappointed. “But…I wanted that! To…to be better able to combat the sins of the flesh…”

“Sorry, Ano. Eddie asked first. I suppose you can have it once he’s done with it.” 

Edwin grinned triumphantly at Anomen, clutching the Book of Kaza tightly and possessively to his red-robed chest, stroking the spine tenderly. “Forget it, Helmite. It is mine, and I never give up what is mine. You had better remember that.” 

“Minsc is curious,” Minsc said, giving Zaerini an innocently cheerful look. “Why is the book so important? Are there many nice stories in it? Anything about hamsters? Minsc would very much like his Witch to read some of them to him if that is so. Boo helps with the reading so Minsc doesn’t get one of his headaches, but if it’s a big book poor Boo has to run so far that his little feet hurt.” 

_Explaining an instruction manual on erotica, written by a Lich Necromancer, to Minsc…_ Rini thought. _For all I know there could be hamsters in there, but probably not in a context I’d like to think about._ “Um…I don’t think you’d like that book much, Minsc,” she said. “I’ll see if I can find you another one, how’s that?” 

“Minsc will be happy with that!” the ranger stated, causing her to draw a silent sigh of relief. “Maybe something with great Heroes in it?”

“Sure, Minsc. I’ll see what we can find. As long as it isn’t about Drizzt.” 

Once details of payment had all been sorted out, Korgan took his leave of the rest of the adventurers, stating that he would probably be about the Copper Coronet now and then in case they ever wished to find him. Rini was rather sorry to see him go, there was something about the obnoxious dwarf that really managed to cheer her up. Still, there was a little bit of relief as well. _Rage…that was the Card, and I know it all too well. He can handle it, but I can’t, not to that extent at least, and if I stick around him too long, I may become too tempted by the way he enjoys it. It would be so easy to simply let go. And that…that is what Sarevok did._ Had it really been her dead brother she had heard? And if so, how? He was dead and gone forever. Wasn’t he? 

_Hmpf_ , Softpaws said, sounding sulky. _You should stop worrying about the dead and concentrate on the living, that’s what I think._

_Now what?_

_Oh nothing_ , the cat said. _You just wasted a perfect opportunity for mating just now, that’s all! You were both primed and ready to go, don’t think I couldn’t tell!_

_Softy, it’s broad daylight and we’re on a rooftop, surrounded by corpses. It’s also not the right time yet. And even if it were, I’d rather not ‘mate’ with Minsc, Jaheira, Korgan, Jan and Anomen watching. Somehow, I think that would break the mood._

_Picky, picky. The male wouldn’t have minded that._

_Yes, he would have! Er…wouldn’t he?_ Thinking about Edwin’s tendencies towards grandiosity she suddenly wasn’t entirely sure. _No. He probably wouldn’t, at that._


	38. Harper Havoc

**Cards Reshuffled 38 – Harper Havoc**

_People trying to fool me is one thing, that’s part of being an adventurer, even if I don’t like it. But I really hate it when they try to fool me using ploys that insult my intelligence. For that sort of thing, they deserve some misery._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Hellkitten, I would like to ask you something,” Edwin murmured as the party climbed down from the roof of the Copper Coronet. “Privately.” 

“Sure!” Zaerini said, smiling at the wizard. A pleasant little jolt ran through her at the sound of his voice uttering that nickname. _I’d do just about anything for him when he sounds like that. I’d better not let him know._ “Anything you want…I mean…er…let’s just fall behind the others a little.” She waved the rest of her companions on, earning herself a raised eyebrow from Jaheira and a worried look from Anomen. “So…” she said, once the others had passed around the corner, wondering at how husky her voice suddenly sounded. “What can I do for you?” 

The Red Wizard hesitated for a moment. “I…noticed you seemed distressed back there,” he said. “I was speaking to you and you did not even hear me. I just thought that…if there is anything my superior and cosmic magical powers can do to alleviate your problems, of if my masterful and razor-sharp intellect might be of assistance, that I could possibly…” He floundered for a few seconds, refusing to meet her eyes. “That I could possibly help somehow, and I certainly hope you appreciate the incredible honor that has been granted to you and will be properly appreciative. (Oh yes. I really hope so. But…I would have offered either way.)” 

Rini felt her heart take a few extra leaps as she worked her way through this convoluted statement, and she spontaneously reached up to touch the wizard’s cheek, her fingers trembling a little bit. “Oh Eddie…” she said. “Thank you. That really does mean a lot to me, you know. That you know me well enough to notice a thing like that, and care enough to want to help.” _Such lovely dark eyes he has…makes me feel like I’m about to melt._

Edwin seemed quite hot himself. He had taken her hand, still holding it pressed to his face, and he was breathing rather heavily, his cheeks flushed. “Ah,” he said, laughing nervously. “Of course, I would notice such things, it goes without saying. I am after all obsessed…I mean possessed…I mean, in _possession_ of the finest brain in all of Thay. (Well, at least of my generation.) These chimps you insist on surrounding yourself with for comical relief wouldn’t notice a slavering giant lobster charging towards them, I am certain. And it…er…is only natural that I would wish to aid one of the few people fully capable of appreciating me properly. Yes. That’s right.” His grip on her hand tightened just a little bit. “Now, tell me what the matter is.” 

Slowly at first, and then with greater speed, she told him all about what had happened in the battle, how she had come close to losing herself in the taint of Bhaal, in the bloodlust, and finished with the way she had thought she had heard Sarevok speaking to her. “I…guess I’m scared,” she concluded. “Scared of winding up like my brother did. You were there, you saw him. And I’m scared of what it means that I think I heard him talking to me. Irenicus…what he did to me…it made the Bhaal-part of me stronger; I think. What if it did something else, as well?” She bit her lip to keep it from trembling. “What if I’m going insane? I don’t want to believe it, but I can’t stop thinking about it…”

Edwin had listened intently to every word she said, never taking his eyes off her face. Now he turned her hand over, and then briefly touched his lips to her palm, something that made it feel as if living fire was rushing through her arm and straight into her brain. Her legs were feeling more than a little unsteady, all of a sudden. “You are not insane,” he firmly stated. “And you will not become so either, never think that. I do not know what it was that you heard, but I do know that much. I know _you_.” He was still looking into her eyes, and it seemed he was on the verge of saying something more. Then his lips quirked into a fleeting smile. “And since I am of course always perfectly right, and even more so in matters to which I have devoted much careful study, there is absolutely no reason for you to worry.” His thumb was rubbing her palm, making soothing little circles. “No reason at all.” 

“Then I will promise to try not to,” she said, smiling back. “And…will you be continuing your…studies?” 

“Naturally. How could I not, with the subject such a fascinating one? Rest assured, I will surpass even my current knowledge and be the greatest expert in the world.” Still he kept holding onto her hand, and she noticed that his pupils had gone very wide. “People will come to me from all over the world, seeking information, but I will send them away, probably in the form of warty toads. Your secrets are safe with me. So are you. _Iltar_. Always.” 

His voice was just a little bit unsteady, but perfectly sincere, and she could feel a few tears forming in her eyes, forcing her to blink them away. “I know,” she said, smiling through the tears. “Somehow…I think I’ve always known that.” 

Not even Jaheira turning up a few seconds later with an inquiry about whether they’d both forgotten where they were supposed to be going was enough to spoil her mood. 

The adventurers now headed towards the Docks again, since Zaerini was eager to sort out the matter of Montaron’s disappearance before she did anything else. “Let’s just go talk a little with the doorman,” she suggested to her friends as they neared the hideously ugly orange building that they had brought the poisoned Renfeld to and that Xzar had pointed out. “Try to see if we can learn anything.”

The man standing on guard outside was the same as before. He was fairly tall and thin, with blond hair and a bored look on his face. “Now, promise me you will behave,” Jaheira told the others as they approached. “Do not start a fight, do you hear me? You do not _have_ to wreak havoc everywhere you go.”

“Why Jaheira!” Rini said in her most innocent voice, looking up at the druid through her tousled fringe. “I’m shocked. You know I’d never do a thing like that, never ever. I’m just going to ask him a few questions.”

“Good.”

“Unless he won’t answer them, of course. In that case I guess I’ll just have to do something to convince him.” 

“Child…”

“Hey, I think I deserve a bit of fun, don’t you? I promise I’ll be nice about it.”

“Very well…”

“Mostly.”

“CHILD!”

Zaerini laughed. “Oh, Jaheira,” she said. “You’re far too easy sometimes, you know that?” The druid kept grumbling right up until they reached their destination. 

“Er…hello!” said the doorman. “You’re the people who brought Renfeld back, aren’t you? What can I do for you?” 

“Hi!” the half-elven bard brightly told him. “I was just really curious…what kind of place is this, anyway?”

The man stiffened. “I cannot tell you that,” he said, sounding rather self-important. “It is extremely secret, and I mustn’t tell a single living soul.” 

“Oh, come on! You can tell me. I promise I won’t tell.” 

“No, no, and NO! Now go away.” 

“Hmmm…” Rini said, raking her fingers through her red hair. “How about if you sing it to me then? Here, I’ll sing you a song first, and you can chime in when you’re ready. You’ll like this one, I learnt it from a dwarven friend of mine. It’s called ‘Bags of Gold’. One hundred bags of gold in the hoard, one hundred bags of gold…”

“NOOOO!” the guard screamed, while a muscle twitched violently in his cheek. “Not that song! ANYTHING but that song! I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, AND IT NEVER ENDS!” Feverishly, he tore something green and smelly out of his pockets then rammed it into his ears. “Ha! You can’t get to me now! I have _cheese_ in my ears, and it protects me!” 

There were a few seconds of deep silence. “You know, druid,” Edwin pleasantly said, “I always thought that Harpers were demented, but I hadn’t realized that they accepted the raving mad into their ranks. If you plan to stuff cheese into your ears, can you at least select a less whiffy sort? That one he’s using smells like a troll’s feet. (Hmmm…maybe sticking some up the priest’s nose as he’s sleeping would be amusing.)”

“Why is it,” Anomen asked of nobody in particular, “that cheese somehow always seems to drift into these insane conversations? We are supposed to be defending the innocent and slaying Evil, and cheese does not come into that!” 

“Oh, I don’t know, Ano,” Jan said, giving the cleric a friendly grin. “There’s this one gnomish brand of cheese that can kill a dragon, does that sound better to you?”

“A dragon? How?”

“Well, you see, this special cheese which is called ‘Blue Bloater’ by the way, it is very tasty but tends to cause gas. If you don’t have a nice turnip directly afterwards your belly will bloat up, you’ll turn blue in the face, and then you’ll explode. Very messy, when my second cousin Fenrus Jansen accidentally forgot his turnip we had to bury him in a thimble.” 

“But what does that have to do with dragons?” Edwin asked. 

“Simple, Red! Dragons, poor creatures, have never learnt to fully appreciate turnips, so if you can just get them to eat a barrel of Blue Bloater they’ll explode, sparing you all that business of spells and Holy Avengers in order to get their treasure.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” the Red Wizard sighed, exchanging a suffering look with Anomen. “How I wish I could put him out of his misery. (Preferably somehow involving cheese.)”

“Minsc likes cheese,” Minsc added. “So does Boo, especially those little ones that come in special packages.”

Jan’s eyes suddenly glittered with excitement. “Really? He does? You know, Minscey, I have plenty of contacts in the cheese manufacturing business…I could take Boo to see them. I’ll let him have all the cheese he can eat; he can even be a professional taster. Of course, that means that I should take over legal custody over him, for tax reasons, you see.” 

“No!” Minsc said. “Boo mustn’t eat too much cheese, or his poor little hamster tummy will hurt all night and keep him awake. And when his tummy gets upset Minsc has to give him a bath afterwards, and that always makes him cranky, not to mention that Minsc will lose sleep over watching Boo’s little hamster potty, and so may not be able to properly protect his Witch in the morning.” 

“AAAAAAAAHHHHH!” the doorman screamed, tearing the cheese out of his ears since it had failed to keep the voices of the party from reaching him. “I can’t take it anymore! Yes, this is the Secret Harper Stronghold in Athkatla, and I don’t care if the whole world finds out! I QUIT! They don’t pay me enough to deal with this kind of insanity anyway. You can go inside! All of you! JUST SHUT UP!” With that, he stormed off down the street, a muscle in his cheek still twitching violently. 

“Nervous fellow,” Zaerini said after a few seconds, raising an eyebrow. “Well, at least he let us in.” She grinned mischievously at Jaheira, who was still staring after the fleeing man. “See? All we had to do was to ask nicely.” 

“You _could_ have simply let me introduce myself,” the druid said between clenched teeth. 

“Maybe…but come on! What would be the fun in that?” 

The inside of the Harper Hold turned out to be as ostentatious as the outside. Zaerini marveled at the vast expanse of magically polished marble floor, inlaid with golden crescent-moon, harp and stars. The furniture looked quite expensive as well, and there were plants growing in pots here and there, everything from small shrubs to an actual tree or two. Not being all that knowledgeable about what she usually referred to as ‘green stuff’, she pondered asking Jaheira for details, but then decided against it. She was by far more interested in the sweet sound of harp music lingering in the air, played by invisible hands. 

“Well, druid,” Edwin said, looking around. “For a supposedly secret organization, you Harpers aren’t doing a very good job of being inconspicuous, are you? (Harper symbol inlaid into the very floor…all that is missing is a framed portrait of that annoying old coot Elminster.)” 

Normally Rini would have expected Jaheira to answer with a biting retort of her own, but instead she simply frowned, her green eyes concerned. “As rude as you are, wizard, you do have a point. This is not the usual way of the Harpers. When last I visited Athkatla, many years ago, we did not have this…place. Gorion would never have approved of this, it is by far too flamboyant and visible.”

“Of course I am right. I always am. And…” Edwin suddenly broke off in mid-sentence as he rounded a corner, then groaned loudly as he saw what was in front of him. It was an enormous statue, the size of a frost giant, of a robed wizard with a long white beard and a pointy hat. It was quite a good likeness, Rini had to admit, the unknown artist had got the smug expression just right. On the base of the statue it had been written in gold paint: ‘Elminster the Sage, First and Foremost of Harpers’. “Oh wonderful,” Edwin said, sneering up at the statue. “Just wonderful. Everybody, excuse me while I regurgitate my lunch all over the feet of His High Meddling Pompousness.”

In the main hall, there were a few people standing about, all of whom eyed the newcomers warily, but without challenging them. They were of different ages, sexes and builds, but Zaerini did notice one thing they all had in common. Every single one of them wore a medallion around his or her throat, a gold one, depicting the moon, the star and the harp. _Well. Obviously, a Harper sign of recognition. A bit too obviously. Eddie is right. The Harpers are supposed to be a secret organization, so why are they all walking about practically carrying a sign around their neck that reads ‘Spy’? There has to be something more to this._

Purposefully she headed for a young man who was diligently sweeping the floor. “Hello there!” she said. “Are you new here too?” 

“Ah…yes!” the young man said, smiling back. “Only joined last month, actually.”

“Great! Then you can give me a tour, can’t you? And tell me all about this place…”

As it turned out, the young man didn’t really know much about anything, but he did confirm that everybody in the place wore the special necklaces, as well as that there was something secret about the second floor. 

“So, obviously we need to get up there,” Rini summarized as she huddled with her friends in a remote corner. “There’s certainly no sign of Montaron down here, or did any of the rest of you find anything?”

“Nothing,” Jaheira said. “And these Harpers…I do not recognize any of them, which is strange. There should be at least some familiar faces.” 

“I found this though,” Jan said, hastily displaying a winged helmet. “It was hidden in a trapped niche in the wall. Oh, and there was one of these fancy things lying about on a desk.” He held up one of the by now familiar necklaces. 

“Lying about on a desk?” Anomen asked. “You broke into it, didn’t you?”

“Sadly no, dear Ano. Nothing like disarming a deadly little trap or two, but these Harpers simply wouldn’t oblige.” 

“I don’t like this,” Edwin flatly said, his fingers idly stroking his own amulet. “It is all too easy, there is bound to be some kind of trap ahead.” 

“Probably,” Rini agreed. “I guess we’ll just have to be extra careful.” 

“Minsc will be careful!” Minsc stated, positioning himself at her shoulder. “And he will carefully crush anybody who dares interfere with his Witch, as Boo nibbles on their evil eyeballs, slurping up the jelly!”

“Er…yes,” Rini said. “As long as you do it quietly…” 

Zaerini got more and more uncomfortable as she ascended to the second floor. She knew that the Harpers in the building had to be watching, but still there was no challenge. Something was very wrong, and she could feel the little hairs at the back of her neck standing on edge. She half anticipated an attack as soon as she reached the second floor, and already had her hand on the hilt of her sword. What faced her was something very different. 

Three ghostly figures floated in mid-air. They looked human, but transparent, as if they were made of mist. As she neared them, they eyed the medallion she had hung about her neck and then nodded. 

“You bear the mark of one and the same,” one of them whispered. “Here you are welcome and may rest in safety.”

“Ask as you will what you wish to know,” a second one chimed in, “and the guardians will answer as best as can be. We have seen much and know the old songs, though the first singing be forgotten.”

“Spectral Harpers…” Jaheira whispered, her voice awed. “They have voluntarily embraced this shadowy existence to serve the Harpers, even in death.” 

“Now that’s loyalty for you,” Jan said. “And it must save plenty in the retirement fund too.” 

”That is not the reason for…” 

“Ah, cease this nonsensical prattle!” Edwin said, striding forward towards the specters. “You there! Creatures! I command you to tell me what I wish to know before I blew my nose in you and then banish you straight into Elminster’s underwear drawer. (A dark and unholy place if ever there was one, I’m certain.) What have you done with the thief you captured not long ago?” He proudly drew himself up to his full height and gave Zaerini a triumphant look across his shoulder. “You see? My masterful and commanding presence will fully intimidate these wraiths into submission.” 

The three Spectral Harpists looked at the wizard, and then at each other. Finally, one of them shrugged. “It is no secret,” it said. “A thief that despoils Harper soil is forbade from touching it again until penance given. They are above the soil, that they might see it and know loss. As they take flight from the law, so we have given flight but nowhere to flee. A gilded cage for a form free to soar, that they might know loss in confinement. No possessions held or worn, a form that carries its own feathered coat. To show that material things come and go, and that some do not need them at all.”

“Cute,” Rini said with a small sneer. “Punishment is one thing, but does there have to be a sermon to go with it? If you ever decide to kill me or anything, please spare me the rhyming, all right? I already met this one assassin with a sad fixation on bad poetry…” 

Since it seemed no more useful information was forthcoming from the specters, the adventurers set to searching the upper floor. There was a library area above the stairs, and then they came into a series of small studies. In one of them was a small letter, signed only with the letter ‘T’ and referencing to a ‘thief’ whom ‘T’ hoped would repent or else ‘develop a taste for birdseed.’ 

“It all seems quite clear,” Anomen said. “These Harpers have transformed the thief into a bird then, as punishment for his crime, and we need only find him. Though why we wish to find him I still cannot understand.”

“It does fit with what the specters said, and it seems quite clear…” Zaerini slowly said, pocketing the letter. Something about its phrasings bothered her, as if she ought to recognize it. Or was it the handwriting? Something… “Too clear.” 

“Yes,” Edwin said, nodding. He was constantly watching over his shoulder, as if he expected something to spring at him at any moment. “Far too easy. I do not trust all these clues that throw themselves so eagerly into our laps. It reminds me of something my teacher once told me. ‘Edwin,’ he said, ‘if you keep stumbling over blatant clues you can be almost certain that somebody meant for you to do so, and you’d better watch out or you’ll find yourself flat on your stomach with your nose in the mud and a dagger in your back.’” 

Rini nodded. “I agree. It’s all too easy. Somebody wants us to buy into this bird story, for one reason or another. I have a feeling that the bird itself will be equally ridiculously easy to find. Let’s go find it. After all, there’s no better way of dealing with a trap than to spring it when you yourself choose to do so.” 

Five minutes later the redheaded bard entered a round chamber, dominated by a gigantic birdcage. Inside, a small golden bird flittered to and through, tweeting. “Well, well,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “And here’s the little tweety birdie. How very convenient.” 

“Leave it,” Jaheira said. The druid’s eyes were dark with anger. “Harpers or not, I dislike being used.” 

“No,” Edwin said with a malicious smirk. “I have a better idea. Let’s bring the bird along. If it _is_ Montaron, all is well and good. And if it isn’t…well, then I am certain we can find a use for it.” He briefly whispered something into Zaerini’s ear, and the half-elf’s eyes lit up. 

“Oh, nice!” she said, smiling at the wizard. “I didn’t know this species was edible…and with honey too, I love honey! Can I have the wings? They look like they’d be very crunchy.” 

“Of course,” the wizard magnanimously said. “Whatever you wish, though as I cook it all parts will of course be delicious. (And I’d quite like to feed her with my own hands too…” 

“Child!” Jaheira said, sounding shocked. Then she noticed the other half-elf winking at her and composed herself. 

“Yep, sounds like a good plan to me!” Zaerini cheerfully said as she stepped inside the cage and headed towards the now quite panicky bird. “Here tweety birdie birdie…this pussy cat is hungry!” A swift swipe, and the bird struggled inside her fist. She took care not to hurt the struggling animal as she stuffed it inside one of her bags of spell components. 

_Can I have the legs?_ Softpaws asked.

_Sorry, Softy. I’m not really going to eat it, I only said that to scare it._

_Ah, you’re no fun. Tormenting the food is one thing, but you’re supposed to eat it afterwards._

_Well, this isn’t exactly an ordinary bird, I think. I’ll make it up to you. Chicken later, how’s that?_

_Oh, all right. As long as it’s fresh._

About twenty minutes or so later Zaerini once again headed downstairs. There was a feral grin on her face that ought to have worried those Harpers who saw her, if they had known her better. This was caused partially by what she was carrying in her component bag, and partially by what Minsc was carrying in his extra-large backpack. Oh yes. The trap was about to be sprung indeed. And it would be in the way she wanted it to. 

Edwin was the last of the party to exit the building, and before he did, he paused to give the statue of Elminster a disdainful look. “Stupid old meddler…” he muttered. “Pointy-hatted boy-toy of Mystra, thinks he’s so wonderful just because he’s lived a long time. (And I still haven’t forgotten the way he leered at her.)” Quickly incanting a summoning spell, he pointed at the statue, then smiled widely at the result. A flock of about thirty pigeons had settled upon Elminster’s marble shoulders, nose, and head, and were energetically and messily doing what pigeons have done to statues since the dawn of time. The statue had an imploring and disgusted look in its eyes. Edwin dusted his hands off, a satisfied smirk on his face. “Much better,” he said. “Pity it wasn’t the real thing.”


	39. I tink I taw a putty cat!

**Cards Reshuffled 39 – I tink I taw a putty cat!**

_I admit it, on occasion I really like spooking people, especially the annoying ones. Grossing them out is good too. Funnily enough, turning into a snarling monster tends to achieve both of those, but it does get you better service in inns. At least once you’ve finished chasing down the waiters and made them stop screaming._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

There was no challenge uttered, no questions asked as the adventurers exited the Harper Hold. _Not surprisingly_ , Zaerini thought. _They want us to leave. It’s all part of the plan. Bet they’d all be really surprised if they knew the truth._

Finding Xzar again proved no particular difficulty. The mad wizard was still hiding out in his alley, sharing what seemed to be a cookie with Abduh. Rini wasn’t sure she wanted to know how a zombie could eat. And even less what he usually ate. Xzar looked even more disheveled than before, and as he saw her approaching, he leapt to his feet, nervously wringing his hands. “You return! Did you find Monty? I’ve been trying to be patient, but the rats tell me that I should go and kill the King of the Chicken-headed lobsters at once, and it doesn’t do to make them get upset. Where’s Monty? Have you got him in your pocket? What have you got in your pockets, hmmmm?”

“Um…” Rini said, hesitating. “Not in my pocket, exactly. I’m afraid I have bad news, Xzar. Sorry. Minsc, take him out.” 

The ranger set his pack down on the ground, unlacing it, and then hauled out a small and sad-looking corpse, the corpse of Montaron the halfling thief. He hadn’t started to decompose much yet, but between the grayish color and the glassy eyes there could be no doubt that he was dead. Besides, he was as stiff as a plank. Xzar gasped, clasping his hand across his mouth. 

“Urrrrghhh…” Abduh mournfully said, putting his enormous arm about the wizard’s shoulder. 

“Monty…” Xzar said, large tears rising in his eyes, and then went to his knees on the ground beside the dead halfling. “Monty, how could you do this to me? We were supposed to die together, one day when we were old and immensely wealthy, and had our own little planet to retire to, one made entirely of custard!” He angrily batted Abduh’s hand away. “STOP TOUCHING ME!”

The zombie’s lower lip trembled, and a long string of thick green drool escaped. He sniffed loudly, a sound like something bubbling to the surface of a sewer. “Urrrrghhh…” 

“I’m sorry Abduh,” Xzar sniffled. “You’re such a good boy, I know you’re only trying to help. I’m just upset over poor Monty…seeing him in such a state has given me quite a shock, you know.” He suddenly smiled, a bright and brittle smile. “I think there may be a very real risk of it driving me insane, yes. Blood…blood flowing down the streets, and little pixies sailing by in boats made of banana peel. They’re taunting me I tell you! Taunting me!” Suddenly he seemed to calm himself. “But I am being silly…I can reanimate him! What do you say, Abduh? Don’t you think Monty will love being a zombie, just like you?”

“Urrrrgh! Urrrrgh!” Abduh said, jumping up and down and clapping his hands. 

“Xzar! Xzar!” Zaerini cut in, waving her hand in front of the wizard’s face. “You don’t have to do that! He hasn’t been dead long, there’s still a chance of calling him back. Jaheira knows this spell and…well, there is still some hope, though we can’t promise anything.”

“The Harper! She won’t touch Monty, oh no! She’d probably turn him to dust or something.”

“I would never do that!” Jaheira protested, outraged. “If I give my word, I keep it. Even if it concerns a Zhentarim.” 

“See?” Rini said. “She won’t hurt Montaron, and if the spell fails there’s no harm done, you can still turn him into a zombie. I’m sure he’d prefer to be alive though.”

“You really think so?” Xzar asked. 

“Yes. I really think so.” 

“Even if I stitch him up really neatly?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. All right then. But I’ll be watching the Harper closely! One false move and I’ll send you to dance with the Old Ones, with their flailing tentacles and their Polka from Beyond Space And Time.” 

“By all means, do not bother to thank me,” Jaheira grumbled as she knelt by the dead Montaron, passing her hands over the halfling’s dead body. “I am only doing this out of a sense of balance, just so you know it.” As she chanted her spell there was a faint whisper in the air, as of leaves stirring in the wind, and the faint green glow of sunlight filtering through new leaves. It reminded Zaerini of early spring, and of life returning to the forest. After a few moments she noticed something happening. Color was slowly returning to the dead halfling’s face, and the sunken cheeks were filling out. One of his hands twitched, he coughed loudly, and then he jerked into a sitting position, eyes wide and horrified. 

“Blasted Harpers!” Montaron sputtered. “Try and catch me, would ye? Ye’ll never get me alive!” Then realization dawned on his face. “Oh…” 

“Monty!” Xzar happily exclaimed, embracing the halfling until Montaron was in very real danger of being choked into his second encounter with death in just a few days. “You’re alive!”

“Not for long…” Montaron wheezed. “Let go o’ me, you addle-headed wizard!” 

Abduh seemed pleased as well. He picked up both the thief and the wizard and squeezed them tightly to his broad and rotting chest in an enormous bear-hug. “Urrrrrghhh!” he declared, smiling widely despite his partially missing jaw. “Urrrrgh, urrrrgh, URRRRGGGHHH!” 

“Yes!” Xzar agreed. “We’re all together again, and soon the rabbits will BE DESTROYED! ALL OF THEM! We will send them all into the quiet rooms behind the wallpaper!” For a moment his eyes regained a hint of lucidity. “By the way,” he asked Zaerini, “wherever did you find Monty?”

“His corpse was stuffed into an old trunk back in the Harper place,” Edwin said. “A very feeble attempt to dispose of a body if you ask me. I certainly would have done better.” 

“Hmpf,” Montaron said. “A trunk. Figures. And I bet it was a _small_ trunk too. Think they can do anything just because you’re a halfling. Kill you and stuff your stiff into a _small_ trunk.”

“Anyway,” Rini said, “that’s not all of it. See, the Harpers killed you, but they wanted Xzar dead too, I think. And they had what they thought was this really clever idea of tricking me into helping them out.” She opened her bag of spell components and took out a small yellow bird that made nervous tweeting noises. “This,” the bard said with a small smile, “is the supposed Montaron we were meant to bring here. Well, now I have done so. I think we should take a closer look at just what I’ve caught.” 

“Pretending to be Monty?” Xzar said, anger flashing in his eyes. “The bird was pretending to be Monty? We cannot have that, no, not at all! Bad birdie! Bad!” As he chanted a spell, the bird shimmered and grew in stature, until eventually there was a woman standing there, a fairly short woman wearing an outfit in white leather of all things. She had short brown hair, a thin and determined face, and pale blue eyes that didn’t seem much saner than Xzar’s. 

“Villains!” The woman cried out. “Unhand me at once!

_And death will come on wings of song,  
a song of long and winding guile,  
and in the end your end I wend,  
and in the end, a harp will smile!”_

She tried to reach behind her, attempting to draw forth a crossbow. Then she made a pained noise as both her arms were twisted up behind her back. 

“Urrrrgh” Abduh said into the woman’s ear. “Urrrgh, urrrgh, URRRRGHHHH!” 

“Good boy, Abduh,” Xzar said, patting the zombie on the arm. “What a _very_ good boy you are.” 

“She’s the one that killed me!” Montaron spat, then kicked the woman in the shins. “Take that, and if ye spout another of yer rhymes there’ll be more to come!” 

Edwin was giving the white-clad woman a look of deep disgust. “Oh look,” he said. “It’s a _rhyming_ assassin. I thought that ‘Death come for thee’ fellow was bad, but this… (Probably a good thing that Teacher Dekaras does not have to witness this. It would simply be too painful.)”

Jan nodded sagely. “Oh, it's the old the-bird-is-really-the-assassin trick, is it? Cousin Belar once pulled that on my great Uncle Tookar, although to be fair he didn't actually mean to kill anyone. He turned from a hummingbird into his original form just as a practical joke on my uncle's birthday... and startled the old gnome so much he went and had a heart attack on the spot. The elders were so upset they turned Belar into a hummingbird for good. He liked it, though, and flew off (that branch of the family was always a bit odd in the head, if you catch my meaning)... only to get eaten by a griffon a week later, I hear. Now, that's justice if there ever was, I suppose.”

“Assassin?” Anomen growled. “Such foulness, and that they should try to use us for their own sinister ends is a crime quite unpardonable.” 

Jaheira nudged her quarterstaff against the white-leathered woman’s nose, and when she spoke her voice was flinty. “Speak and speak true. The Harpers have attempted to use us, and me one of their own kind. I would know the reason for this.” 

“Do you not see?” the woman retorted. She was actually frothing at the mouth, Rini noticed, and her eyes were glazed with the absolute conviction of a fanatic. “They are Zhentarim! Evil Zhentarim! Evil! That necromancer is the creator of abominations!” 

“Abduh is no abomination as such,” Zaerini coldly replied. _Ugly, bad-tempered and not too bright, but that’s another matter entirely._ “And I don’t exactly see what’s so very morally superior about trying make me do your dirty work for you. I don’t like being used. Who gave you the right to try? Not to mention that I really wonder how a supposedly ‘good’ organization motivates trying to kill people when they haven’t actually attacked you or anything.”

“Besides,” Edwin added, “if she were any good at all as an assassin, she wouldn’t have needed that little scam. Pathetic. Utterly pathetic, and a true disgrace.” 

“It’s different!” the Harper Assassin spat, her voice rising to a shrill screech. “It’s different! We’re Good! We’re Harpers, and that means we have the right on our side! Because we’re Good! And they’re Evil! It’s completely different! And all Evil people deserve to die, slowly and painfully, and with no quarter given, and since I’m Good that means I should make sure of it! And if you can’t see that, then you’re clearly Evil too! Bad! Bad! Bad and Evil! You all deserve to die! All of you!”

“I think I’ve heard enough,” Rini said, shrugging. “Actually, I’m quite tired of your voice by now. I think you should have a prettier one.” She turned to Xzar. “Xzar…you don’t by any chance happen to have a second polymorph spell memorized, do you?”

The insane wizard simply grinned, his tattooed face twisting into a hideous demonic mask. As he cast his spell, the woman’s voice dwindled into a tiny chirp, her body shrunk into a petite one covered in golden feathers, and within seconds she was sitting on the ground, once again trapped in the shape of a very small bird. “Tweeet?” she said. “Tweet? TWEEEET!” 

“Oh, just go away,” Zaerini said, shooing at the bird. “Go ask Elminster to disenchant you or something, I don’t care. And just be happy I’m not what you would call a ‘good’ person, or I’d probably already have wrung your neck. Now get lost!” 

“Can’t I keep the pretty birdie?” Minsc asked. “Boo would like a little friend to play with…I would be very careful and feed it only the best of birdseed…”

“TWWWWWEEEEEETTT!” the bird shrieked and unsteadily hopped away around the corner. Then there was a thumping sound and a small shriek, rapidly cut off. A few moments later Softpaws came nonchalantly strolling around the corner, looking very pleased with herself as her pink tongue darted out to lick a small feather off her nose. _Mmmm_ , she said. _Tasted like chicken. Not much meat, but crunchy and nice._ She spat out another feather that had lodged between her teeth.

_Softy! I told you not to eat her! I only meant to scare her, I told you that._

The cat’s green eyes widened with feigned innocence. _Did you? I must have forgotten. And no wonder, since you feed me so irregularly. I’m not supposed to starve, am I?_

_But what if she changes back in your stomach? You’ll explode!_

_She won’t. That spell doesn’t wear off naturally, you know that._

_I suppose…just don’t do it again, all right. I don’t want you to get hurt._

_Oh, come on! Cats are meant to snack on fluttery little yellow birds, you know that! Anything other would be totally unnatural. Having the bird win…what a laugh!_

Jaheira had turned an interesting shade of pale green and was clinging to Minsc in her efforts to keep upright. Her accusing finger wavered unsteadily between the black cat and her redheaded owner. “Child…” she finally said, her voice horrified. “Your…your familiar just ate a Harper! A Harper! What have you got to say for yourself?”

Rini gave her friend a slightly unsteady grin. “Whoops?” she said. 

_Sometime later…_

“The cat ate a Harper…” Jaheira murmured, her voice wooden. She had been repeating the phrase now and then ever since the party returned to the Copper Coronet, as if she still hadn’t quite realized the truth behind the statement. “The cat ate a Harper…” She was sitting with her head leaning against her hands, as if she had a severe headache, and her lips were the only part of her face that was moving. 

“Look, I said it was an accident!” Zaerini repeated, not for the first time. “It’s not as if I asked Softy to do it. She just did.” Softpaws, who was sitting in the middle of the table, gave Jaheira a smug look and went on with giving herself a full body-wash. Anomen wasn’t very familiar with cat body-language, but that look spoke volumes. Basically, it said: ‘Stop making such a fuss, I enjoyed it and I’m not the least bit sorry.’ “Anyway, “ the bard went on, her face stubborn, “she brought it on herself. Nobody forced her to try to use me as an assassin without asking first.” She reached out to give Edwin a nudge on the shoulder. “Isn’t that right, Eddie?”

“Hmmm?” the wizard said, then startled as he came back to the world around him. He had been deeply immersed in studying the thing he had found beneath the Graveyard, this so-called Nether Scroll that gave Anomen a disturbing crawling feeling along his spine whenever he looked at it. It was obvious that Edwin hadn’t heard a word of the past few minutes of conversation, and he hadn’t even touched his food, pushing it aside to make room for the scroll on the table. “Ah…what was that, my Hellkitten? (I’m almost certain I have seen this rune before…if only I could access the library back home…)”

Anomen felt his stomach give a nasty lurch as he heard the familiarity with which the wizard addressed the bard, and a few seconds later he was surprised to see that he had bent his fork into a strange geometrical shape with more angles than seemed possible. _Control your temper…it means nothing. Nothing whatsoever. He has no idea of the proper courtesies involved in courting a lady, that doesn’t mean she approves. But she hasn’t protested yet. Suppose…no! No, no, no, no! Obviously, she lets him carry on like that out of pity, as a…as a sort of court jester! Yes, that is it._ Embarrassedly he let his ruined fork drop onto the floor, hoping it would go unnoticed. 

Zaerini sighed with a sort of fond exasperation and shook her head. “You haven’t been listening to a word, have you? Never mind, I know how you get when you’re preoccupied. I said that that Harper Assassin only had herself to blame. It is a risky profession after all.” 

“Of course,” Edwin agreed, nodding. “And one that leaves no room for preposterous bunglers like that one. (Reciting poetry to her target…really! I call that outrageous. Not to mention tacky.)” He sounded almost personally insulted, if such a thing was possible. 

“The Harpers will not see things that way!” Jaheira protested. “They will demand an explanation, at the very least!” 

Softpaws chose that moment to burp delicately and regurgitate a disgusting little ball of feathers and tiny crushed bones onto Anomen’s plate, right in the middle of the cleric’s mashed potatoes. Anomen could have sworn that the beast gave him a triumphant look before she strolled over to Edwin, lying down in the middle of the scroll he was studying and refusing to budge until the wizard petted her stomach. The cat’s loud purring really grated on Anomen’s nerves and made him long for a silencing spell. The thing lying on his plate didn’t make things better. 

“Hm,” Jan said as he viewed the remnants of the Harper Assassin. “I suppose a Resurrection is out of the question, Ano? Pity. Well, at least you can eat it all up, hide the evidence so to speak!” 

“That is not amusing,” Anomen said in his coldest voice. “I am a squire of the Order, not a cannibal!” 

“But it wouldn’t be cannibalism Ano, she’s certainly not human. Well, at least not at the moment. Say, did I ever tell you about my uncle Hannibal Jansen, the cannibal?”

“No,” Anomen said. “And I don’t want to hear about him either.” 

Jan grinned widely. “Oh, you don’t have to be modest, it’s no bother at all! So, about Hannibal…”

“No!” Anomen declared, slamming his fist down on the table to make glasses and plates shake. Everybody looked at him, even Minsc. Well, everybody except for Edwin, who was still totally immersed in his reading and didn’t look as if even a charging dragon would be able to attract his attention. “That is enough! I will not listen to tales of man-eating gnomes while we are partaking of our own nourishment! It…it is unseemly!”

The infernal gnome simply winked at him. “But Ano, you have it all wrong! Poor uncle Hannibal didn’t eat anybody else, least not fatally. He only ate himself, the purest form of cannibal there can possibly be. Nails…hair…toenails…he was very omnivorous really. Then of course one day he decided to take things one step further and start gnawing on other people’s toe nails. There was this big scandal when he was found nibbling the toes of this young paladin who’d only sat down to rest his aching feet for a while and made the sad mistakes of taking off his boots. Especially since the town crier happened to notice. When the pally woke up to find uncle Hannibal sucking on his toe-nails, leering up at him, he screamed like a banshee and ran off into the sunset, and we had to keep uncle Hannibal chained up in the yard afterwards, with a muzzle to keep him from nibbling. Pity I couldn’t introduce you to him Ano, he would have liked you. You wash your feet now and then, don’t you?”

Anomen hesitantly looked around the table. “Is it over?” he pleaded with his companions. “Please tell me it is over!” 

“It’s all right,” Zaerini consoled him. “He’s stopped now. Just remember to keep breathing, you’re almost blue in the face. Jaheira? Are you going to start talking to me again soon? As opposed to scolding me. I mean, what’s done is done after all.”

The druid kept staring at the remains on Anomen’s plate. “I promised Gorion I would look after you,” she muttered. “And I care about you myself. I am glad I did not have to explain this to him though.”

“Aw, he would have understood. I think. Probably. If I explained it properly.” 

“Minsc feels sorry for the poor little bird,” Minsc solemnly stated. “Boo thinks it would be a good idea to bury it, and maybe Anomen could say the nice words for it that you do when people are getting buried?”

Anomen felt a splitting headache coming on, not an unusual sensation in his present company. “You…want me to hold a memorial service over a dead bird?” he feebly asked. “A dead, mostly digested bird? A bird that is so completely and thoroughly dead that not even that insane necromancer would consider turning it into a zombie?”

Minsc nodded eagerly. “Yes! And with some nice flowers, and maybe some singing. Boo is very good at singing, he will help.” 

“I…” Anomen began to protest, but then he met Zaerini’s eyes. The bard was staring straight at him, and she was mouthing ‘Please, just do it’. “I will be happy to do so,” Anomen sighed, feeling his resolve dissolve into a small puddle before those blazing golden eyes. _By Helm, I would slay dragons barehanded if she asked me to. A burial of a partial bird is nothing by comparison._

“That was very nice of you,” Zaerini said to him, smiling, and the cleric took some small solace in that. 

“Ah…of course, my lady,” he said, smoothing his mustache. “I am ever eager to serve. But perhaps not until after we have finished our meal? And there is that other matter too.” 

And so there was. Now that Montaron was resurrected and a grateful Xzar had rewarded them with a reasonable sum of money as well as a few rare spell components and an offer to reanimate the corpse of their choice, Zaerini had decided that they should take a closer look at the offer of work from the elusive Lady Nalia De’Arnise. The woman had promised to meet them here, and in fact was heading towards them this very moment. 

Anomen had heard of the De’Arnises, certainly. They were an old family of country nobility, well respected as well as wealthy. While he had never met any of them, he had heard many good things spoken of Lord De’Arnise, but of the girl he knew nothing but her name. He had glimpsed her from a distance as he had sought for noble quests in the Copper Coronet, but never spoken to her, and he hadn’t paid much attention to her either. The Lady Nalia was young, he noticed, some years younger than himself and most likely not out of her teens. She was a fairly sturdy young woman with red hair, some blue stones braided into it in what he had a vague idea was a current feminine fashion. He supposed she was comely enough, but she looked…scruffy, as if she had done without a maid for several days. The fact that she carried a bow was also a bit unusual for a young Amnian lady. _And she has an arrogant look about her. She should learn to temper that trait, unseemly arrogance is a trait frowned upon by Gods and men alike._

“There you all are!” Nalia exclaimed, sitting down at the table after vigorously dusting off a chair with a lacy handkerchief. “I’ve been waiting simply ages! May I?” Without waiting for an answer, she helped herself to a bread roll, spread plenty of butter on it and started munching. “Minsc, you didn’t say you would take so long, and we simply must go soon, I don’t know how much longer my father can hold the Keep.” She spotted the Harper Remnants on Anomen’s plate. “Yuck. Are you really going to eat that? Looks filthy if you ask me, just the sort of thing you can expect in a…place like this. It’ll probably give you indigestion too. What is it, a quail?”

“No,” Zaerini said in an absolutely deadpan voice. “That’s an annoying Ex-Harper. She’s flown off into the sunset, laid her final egg, and is singing a different tune entirely. Funny how often that happens to annoying people. Especially when they’re annoying _me_. By the way, who are you? You seem to have neglected to mention that.” 

Edwin briefly looked up from his scroll, shooting the bard an appreciative look. “Lovely…” he muttered, then went back to his reading. “Subtle, yet with the proper sting…” 

“Er…I’m Nalia,” Nalia said, her eyes wide and anxious as she edged a little closer to Minsc, away from the half-elf. “Nalia De’Arnise.” She stared at the Harper Remnants again, her cheeks a little pale. “Um…is that really…”

“And I am Zaerini of Candlekeep,” the bard pleasantly went on. “Pleased to meet you, I’m sure.” She then went on to introduce the others, one by one. “Now then. Perhaps you can give us a few more details about what exactly you want us to do?”

As it happened, Nalia didn’t prove very informative, whether because she had been badly spooked by the Ex-Harper or for some other reason. She explained that her family home had been attacked not long ago, by a small army led by an unknown commander, and that she had been fortunate enough to escape with her life in order to try to bring aid. So far, she had been unsuccessful. “I don’t understand it!” she loudly complained. “I’ve always tried to do my best for the lower classes, helping them whenever I could, spending time with them even. And where is their gratitude now? You’d think they’d be eager to assist me in turn. None of this rabble will so much as look at me!” 

“Oh really?” Zaerini said, sounding amused as well as annoyed. “How dreadful of them.” 

“Yes…Aunty always says that the less fortunate only comprehend direct orders and that pleading for their higher sensibilities is a waste of time, but I don’t want to give up just yet! They are good people, if simple, I thought that if I just explained about my needs…” 

The bard looked around at the usual assortment of drunks, fighters and prostitutes to patronize the Copper Coronet. “I see,” she said, smiling a little. “Yes, you _would_ think that, wouldn’t you?”

Jaheira snorted and gave the young noblewoman a disapproving look. “You speak as if unaware of class distinction, and yet your manner exudes it. A sign of immaturity... perhaps adventuring is not the place for you.”

“But I have no choice!” Nalia pleaded. “Please…my father’s life may be at stake here! Will you not help me? If the Keep is saved, I will insure you are properly rewarded.” 

“My lady?” Anomen asked, turning to the bard. “It is a good cause, I assure you. The De’Arnises are highly regarded.” 

Zaerini thought for a moment, then finally nodded. “All right,” she said. “Nalia, I know how it is to lose a father. I’d like to help you save yours, but I have needs of my own. My best friend is in deep trouble, and I need money to save her, so I will expect that reward you offered. We’ll buy the supplies we need, rest tonight, and then set out tomorrow.” A small and enigmatic smile played around her lips, and she murmured something that Anomen thought sounded like ‘Page of Cups accounted for’. 

“Hooray!” Minsc cheered. “A quest to slay countless of unknown Evil Monsters, and to help a nice little girl help nice people! Ah, Boo’s whiskers are quivering with anticipation already! But first we must take care of the poor birdie, and Anomen will do a nice mem-or-ial service for it. Boo has thought up a song too, it’s called ‘Broken Wings and Hairballs’…” 

Anomen suddenly found himself pulled up from the table by the eager ranger and pulled towards the exit, the Ex-Harper wrapped in his serviette as in a makeshift shroud. _Perhaps shoveling horse dung back at the Order would not have been so bad after all_ , he thought. Then he caught sight of Zaerini smiling apologetically at him. _Then again, I suppose there are compensations…_


	40. Two Can Keep a Secret If One of Them Is Dead

**Cards Reshuffled 40 – Two Can Keep a Secret If One of Them Is Dead**

_As an assassin, I suppose there was always a possibility of finding myself haunted. I would have expected it to be the ghost of one of the people I have killed though, not one of the rare ones I failed to kill. But I guess that is one of the little ironies that help keep life interesting._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

There were three of them. Reasonably tough-looking, certainly ruthless and ready to kill. Whether they were bright enough to back away from a fight remained to be seen though. _Probably not_ , Dekaras thought. _But let’s give them the chance anyway._ The assassin wished, not for the first time, that he had been able to teleport himself straight to Athkatla. There was only one road through the Cloudpeak Mountains, and that road was crawling with bandits like a carcass crawling with maggots. Certainly, he could avoid the road, but that meant wasting time, not to mention risking all manner of nasty cliffs and crevices, and probably monsters as well. He didn’t particularly fancy taking on a dragon by himself, at least not unprepared. The bandits were preferable to that. Some of them he could spot far enough ahead to go around them, and the others at least provided ample exercise. _It would not do to let myself get rusty, not if the Cowled Wizards are as dangerous as they’re made out to be. Not to mention that vampire…Bodhi._

These particular three bandits he hadn’t been able to avoid, since they had been lying in ambush right behind a bend in the road. Right now, they were coming out from their hiding places, three rough-looking men, two older, one younger. The younger one had a cleft lip, probably from a sword, and looked big and muscular. One of the older ones had something of a military bearing about him, possibly he was a deserted soldier. There was something about his close-cropped gray hair and stiff bearing that still hinted at his past. The third one had a very nondescript face, and the cold eyes of a snake. _Mistake on their part_ , Dekaras thought as he stopped in the middle of the road for a few seconds, sizing his opponents up. _They should have ambushed me when they had the chance. Now they’ll come up with some ‘threatening’ line instead, I shouldn’t wonder._

“Uh!” one of the bandits said, in what was most probably meant to be a threatening growl. “You there! Your money or your…” He never got to finish the sentence, as a throwing dagger suddenly lodged in his throat, effectively cutting him off. As he crumpled to the ground a red flower of blood spread around the weapon, and he tore vainly at it. Drawing his final breath, he still had a very surprised look on his face. 

_Your money or your life_ , Dekaras thought as he dropped to the ground and rolled, avoiding a pair of crossbow bolts. _How unoriginal. You’d think they’d manage to come up with something new if they must insist on chatting with their marks._ Another bolt thudded into the ground next to his ear and he jumped to his feet again in a single fluid motion, then drove his knee into the groin of the militaristic fellow. A pained squeal followed as the man clutched his most treasured possessions, rolled into a tight ball of agony. 

Young Cleft Lip was still standing, and for a few moments he hesitated. Then he made yet another mistake and went for his sword. He realized the full extent of his mistake when he was unable to grip the sword properly. “Uhhh…” he moaned as he raised his hand to his face, staring at the bleeding stump where his thumb had previously been. _And yet another blunder_ , Dekaras thought, calmly driving the razor-sharp dagger that had removed the thumb into the now disarmed bandit’s chest, right beneath the breastbone and aiming upwards. The fellow was wearing leather armor, but it wasn’t good enough protection in this case, not at all. He coughed once, rolled his eyes upward into his head, and was dead before he hit the ground. 

The probably deserted man was still writing on the ground, moaning, if not for very long. A swift cutting of the throat silenced him, and that was the end of the fight. _Hm_ , Dekaras thought as he searched the three bodies, _that was the fourth group since Nashkel. I suppose all the business with the Iron Throne caused banditry to move south instead._ The bandits didn’t have many valuables on them, so probably they hadn’t been too successful. _That would be your money and your life if they had any sense whatsoever. Well, their loss, my gain._ After a moment’s deliberation he decided to leave the corpses where they were, rather than drag them aside. If they had any friends in the neighborhood, the sight of the bodies might be enough to deter them. 

Satisfied with that, the assassin rose and dusted himself off after wiping off his dagger and retrieving the throwing one. Doing so he couldn’t help but notice that his hands and lower right arm had been left more than a little wet and sticky. It felt as if something had splattered onto his face as well. That needed to be dealt with as soon as possible. He didn’t much fancy the idea of walking about covered with blood, that would attract all manner of insects and possibly carnivores and monsters as well. _Not to mention that it itches. Oh, and I suppose it might frighten innocent travelers too. If there are any in these parts._

The water in his water flask obviously couldn’t be wasted on washing, so Dekaras felt quite relieved when he came across a small stream about half an hour later. Just as he had predicted, the blood itched in a very annoying fashion, so it was with great pleasure that he washed it off, despite the coldness of the water. This was also a nice spot to rest, shaded by a small grove of trees, with some actual grass on the ground as opposed to dusty rocks. Sitting down with his back to one of the trees, and in a position where he was unlikely to be seen from the road, he searched through his backpack. _Now let me see. Crusty old bread. Something unmentionable called only ‘Adventurer’s Rations’. I’m not even sure why I bought that, it smells like old boots and I don’t even know for certain what it is. Some dried meat…well, at least it will keep me alive. I think. At least it’s not porridge._

It was at this moment, as he was musing over his meager lunch, that Dekaras became aware of the fact that somebody was watching him. There was a minute increase of tension to his body, though he pretended to still be quite preoccupied by his task. He couldn’t have explained how he knew, whether he had seen, or heard, or even smelled something, but all his instincts were screaming warnings. Somebody was definitely there, and close. Coming even closer. Even closer. He made himself whistle quietly between his teeth, to make the intruder utterly convinced of how oblivious he was to its presence. And then he sprang to his feet like an uncoiling snake strikes, crouching slightly and prepared for attack. It never came. Instead he stared in complete surprise at the person standing behind him, his hand falling to his side once again. “You!” he said. “No…” 

The person simply smiled thinly, as if quite prepared for such a greeting, and then spoke. 

_Meanwhile…_

Edwin most likely wouldn’t have decided to take a nap if he had known he was going to have one of _those_ dreams. As it was, he had been quite tired after the whole business with Xzar and the Harpers, on top of the romp through the catacombs under the Graveyard and the fight with Korgan’s former cronies. A Great Wizard he might be, he told himself, but he still needed rest now and then. He would simply take a brief nap, and that would enable him to stay up later for as long as necessary, memorizing the spells he would need for tomorrow. _If only that Nalia woman had seen fit to tell us exactly what we would be fighting it would be far easier. I suppose I shall have to settle for a little of this and a little of that. And Magic Missiles. You cannot have too many Magic Missiles. I wonder why Nalia would be so secretive though. I do not like it. Well, whatever foes they might be, if that silly little girl could escape them unscathed, they should be no match for Edwin Odesseiron, the Master of Magic, and the Possessor of the Nether Scroll! And my Hellkitten, of course. Always and forever her…_

The wizard pulled his robe and shoes off and lay down on the bed, wearing only his pants and loose shirt. _Much better._ Fascinating as the Nether Scroll was, it did give him a headache if he studied it for too long. _Maybe I should read a little in the Book of Kaza instead? But then I probably wouldn’t be able to sleep at all. I never would have dreamt you could do that sort of thing with a stuffed hedgehog…but there were some other interesting variations that seemed quite pleasurable. I should make certain to try them out as soon as possible, to see if they are really humanly possible. As a…as a scientific inquiry! And I know just the person to assist me, once the time comes…_

Smiling to himself, the wizard folded his arms beneath his head and closed his eyes. It wasn’t long before his breathing took on the slow and steady quality of sleep, and his face relaxed into an expression that was almost, but not quite, innocent. 

Edwin knew that he was dreaming, and that it was one of _those_ dreams, but for a few moments he almost managed to fool himself into believing otherwise. There was a red cat lying on his chest, her bushy tail curled around her body, and she was purring loudly, the vibrations reverberating through his entire body. Gently, he stroked the soft fur along the back, and then rubbed behind one pointed ear. The cat’s noises of pleasure increased in volume as he went on to pay attention to her chest and belly, where the fur was even softer, almost downy. Her eyes were narrowed to thin slits, just a hint of gold glinting at him from behind the eyelids. _So perfect…I would give her pleasure such as this in her other form, and more. Whatever would make her happy._

“You don’t really care for that pompous priest, do you?” he asked the cat. “He doesn’t deserve you; you must know that. He doesn’t know you as I do, not really. His puny mind could never encompass you; you would burn him alive.” 

The cat opened one eye to give him an amused look. 

“Well, I’m different! You know that. And if you do not, I suppose I must tell you so. Soon. I would have done it already, it’s just…” _It’s just that originally you were supposed to recruit her for the benefit of Thay. And failing that, you were supposed to kill her. Suppose…suppose she will hate me for it? But if I don’t tell her and she finds out later…what will she think then?_ “I will tell you,” Edwin finally stated, nodding to the cat. “I promise I will. I just need to prepare properly first. Something…something that will balance the other things. A gift, a gift to show you how…how I would have things! Once I fully comprehend the Nether Scroll, then I will show you…then you will see it all, that I would do anything to keep you forever. Yes. Then you will see.” 

The cat opened her eyes fully, and now she looked worried. She gave a soft meow, and for a moment Edwin almost thought he comprehended its meaning. Then the scene changed however, taking him elsewhere. 

He was standing on a road, an empty and dusty road, with the sun blazing down from above and a faint wind in the air. No, wait. The road was not entirely empty. There was a small dark dot in the distance, growing larger as it headed purposefully towards him with great speed. Edwin stood motionless, feeling frozen in place, unable to even breathe. He knew what that was, he knew it long before he could see it. 

A great black wolf was running along the road, almost flowing along the ground with great speed. Now and then it stopped briefly to sniff out the trail, then went on, head slightly lowered in order not to miss the scent if it took off in a different direction. When the animal was a short distance away from the wizard it stopped, watching him closely with its head cocked slightly to one side. 

Edwin couldn’t take his eyes off the wolf, eagerly drinking in the sight of the magnificent animal. As he did so, a painful knot inside him loosened a little bit. The wolf was looking healthier than when he had seen it last. The ribs no longer stuck out as they had, the deep black fur was shiny and thick, no longer clotted with blood. Well, there was some blood on the muzzle, but that was different. The wolf briefly licked its chops to clean itself, then returned to watching him, ears alertly turned towards him, eyes fixing him with a level stare that made him feel extremely guilty and about five years old at that. At least the terrible pain that had been present before had diminished.

“Er…” he said, “I can explain…” He took a few steps towards the wolf and felt a hot stinging sensation in his eyes as it warily backed away. Not growling at least, not this time, that was for the better. Still not prepared to trust him though. Not as readily as before. _And that’s exactly what I deserve, I suppose. At least…at least I guess he is alive, and mostly well. That’s the most important thing._ “Are you coming for me?” he asked the wolf. “I hope you are, you know. You were always able to find me before, I guess I’m still hoping that you will be able to find me again.”

The wolf yawned briefly, white fangs the size of a man’s fingers briefly becoming visible before the jaws slammed shut again with a force that could easily crush a human bone. Then the wolf looked at him again, a somewhat exasperated look that spoke volumes. 

“Oh,” Edwin said, smiling a little. “I’m sorry. Of course, you will. I hope you will let me explain too, before killing me. I wish I could have explained things before…then we wouldn’t be in this predicament, now would we?”

The wolf snorted quietly and then turned its head to the side, staring into the shadows along the road. There was something there…Edwin could almost but not quite make it out. A shape…a human shape, and one he felt he should be able to recognize. But there was something wrong with it…something terribly wrong that he couldn’t quite grasp. The shape beckoned, waving, and the wolf watched it, ears pricked with fascination. 

“You’re not going anywhere near that…that person!” Edwin protested, reaching for the wolf unthinkingly. He could just about feel thick fur sliding beneath his fingers as the animal nimbly stepped aside. “You’re not, do you hear me? I’m sure it’s not safe!” 

The black wolf simply opened its mouth briefly, letting its tongue loll out in the canine approximation of laughter at such a ridiculous statement. Briefly, the large head pressed against the palm of his hand, offering comfort. Then, the animal turned and headed into the shadows where something was waiting. 

_Elsewhere…_

“I know what you’re thinking,” said the person standing by the roadside. “I’m about the last person you’d ever expected to see again, aren’t I?”

“Well,” Dekaras said, not taking his eyes off the other for a second, “given that the last I heard you were supposed to be quite permanently dead, I must say it came as a bit of a surprise.”

“You’re not about to tell me that you don’t believe in spooks, are you?”

“On the contrary, Master Perorate. I do believe in spooks. I simply do not trust them. Now, what is it that you want of me?”

The ghost of Winski Perorate smirked a little at this, then sat down on a fallen log. Well, seemingly sat down. Dekaras couldn’t help but notice that the other man hovered slightly above the surface. Apart from that, and a certain transparent quality, the wizard looked much as he remembered him. Coarse black hair cut short. A gaunt face, clean-shaven yet still with the shadow of a beard, lines of cynicism and bitterness etched into it. Intelligent, deeply set eyes, currently looking amused. _I always did like him_ , Dekaras thought. _Pity there was that small obstacle of us trying to kill each other, or I think we might have become good friends._

“It is a bit complicated,” Winski said, “and it will likely take a while. Won’t you sit down? I know I can’t really get a crick in my neck from looking up at you, since my neck is incorporeal, but it hurts just the same.” 

Dekaras shrugged slightly. “By all means,” he said, sitting down on the ground. He made certain to place himself in a position where he could readily reach his weapons though. No reason to take chances. “By the way,” he politely said, “your use of that lightning wand was very skillful. You almost managed to kill me, I was quite impressed.”

Winski startled a little, then inclined his head. “My thanks,” he said. “Conversely, I must congratulate you on your use of that poison…I was out of commission for days, and had I been just a little bit slower in getting to a healer I might well have been done for. As it was, I got to live a short while longer, just long enough to get stabbed by my son instead.” He sighed regretfully. 

“Sarevok.” 

“Yes…Sarevok.” A shadow seemed to cross the dead wizard’s face, and when next he spoke his voice was solemn. “I fear that I failed him badly. I failed to see the danger he was in, the madness that threatens every Child of Bhaal. Worse, I encouraged him, until it was far too late for him to turn back. Sarevok was consumed by the madness, by the bloodlust, until very little of Sarevok the man remained. In the end…he was as a rabid and hunted animal, certain that everybody was against him. I tried to protect him – and I failed. He cut me down, thinking I had betrayed him.” There was old grief in his voice, and he was staring at the ground. 

“I am truly sorry,” Dekaras said, meaning it. “I saw you…and him, there before the end, as you know. I know how you cared for him, and I don’t doubt that you did what you thought best at the time.” 

Winski smiled a little. “Thank you,” he said. “Hearing that…means a lot.” He suddenly seemed to remember something. “Incidentally, and I’m sure you will enjoy this one, though the wound Sarevok gave me was indeed fatal it wasn’t my son who actually struck the killing blow, it was yours.”

It was only with great difficulty that Dekaras kept his face under control. “I have no idea what you are talking about,” he finally managed, but even he thought that his voice sounded more than a little wooden. 

Winski snorted and made a dismissive gesture. “Oh, please. Don’t underestimate my intelligence, I like that just as little as you do. You told me you had a son, remember? Though of course you were going under a false name then…well so is he, I suppose, though he doesn’t know it. Whatever the case, when I asked for a mercy blow, he offered most graciously, and then I saw the resemblance. The two of you really are quite alike if you know what to look for. And he did a fine job of it too, very neat. You would have been proud if you’d been there to see it. I could see that it bothered him though.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Actually, I think I may have reminded him a bit of yourself.” 

“I…should hope that that would give him at least a little pause,” Dekaras said, feeling as if the conversation was rapidly spinning out of control. “But I am happy to hear that he was able to help you. I would have done so myself, had I been there.” He paused for a moment, feeling a need to explain himself further. “I never had anything personally against you, you know. If circumstances had been different, I believe we might have been good friends. What I did, I did in order to try to protect my child.” 

“I know,” Winski said, holding his hand out in an ancient peace offering. If wasn’t particularly solid, it was like shaking hands with a breeze, but it was the thought that counted. “So did I, after all. I would have done anything for Sarevok, same as you would have for young Edwin.” He sighed again, a little ruefully. “The things we do for our children, eh? Which brings me to the reason why I’m here.” 

“Yes?”

“Sarevok. What else? Don’t tell me you wouldn’t come back from the dead if there was a small possibility it might help Edwin.” 

“Certainly,” Dekaras carefully said, not wanting to upset the ghost unnecessarily. “It is just that Sarevok…well…” 

Winski bowed his head again. “He is dead, yes. I know. But I think I am going about this the wrong way. Allow me to backtrack a little bit. I should really start with my death, I suppose.” A wry smile played around the wizard’s lips. “I’m sure I needn’t tell you that it wasn’t pleasant. Neither the process as such, nor what came after it. Once my soul had departed my body, I found myself faced with the things I had done in life, many of which I now regret. But face them I had to, and face them I did, eventually.” He tapped ghostly fingers against his knee for a moment, thinking. “You were the one who stole Sarevok’s diary, were you not? Yes, I thought so. Did you read it all?”

“I did, yes. His was a sad story.”

“It was. I loved him as my own, and did what I could, but it was not enough. It might have been, if not for his mother’s murder. After that, I’m afraid I wasn’t much use to him. Quite the contrary, I encouraged his dreams of blood and vengeance.” The wizard’s voice was very quiet and dignified. “I loved her you see. She was my heart and my soul, my everything.” Then his mouth twisted into a grimace. “Unfortunately, she was also married to Sarevok’s foster father, Reiltar the Bastard, and to him she was a possession. A treasured one, but still a possession. I would have wanted to escape, to take her and Sarevok and leave, but she was afraid he would come after us. Perhaps I should have stayed away from her, but I could not. Neither could she. And when he found out…he had her strangled. It was Sarevok and I who found her corpse. I’m sure you can imagine how we reacted to that. I think we both went partially insane that day, and neither of us ever quite recovered.” 

“I regret your loss,” Dekaras sincerely said. “And I…know how it is when you have to keep your feelings hidden from the world, with no choice about it unless you want to place the ones you care about in danger.”

“It hurts. And what makes it hurt even more…”

“…is that you cannot let the hurt show.” 

Both men, one living, one dead, gave each other a look of mutual understanding. “Yes,” Winski finally said. “Exactly. Always pretending, always keeping appearances up so nobody will suspect the truth. In your case, not even the child in question, am I correct?”

Dekaras felt that familiar tightening in his throat as he thought about it once again. “I dare not,” he said, trying to keep his voice level. “I know I should, he is old enough and he deserves to know, but should it get out we would all be in grave danger. Especially my love. And I’m afraid that Edwin never has been very good at dissembling. I don’t think he would be able to keep up the pretense.”

“I see. Much the same as Sarevok then. He never was any good at spying or subtleties either.” The wizard suddenly looked very amused. “You should have seen him trying to masquerade as ‘Koveras the Humble Monk’. Vastly entertaining that was, you would have appreciated it. But I am getting off the track. I was speaking of my love, wife of my heart. She came to me, afterwards, once I was dead. She had been waiting for me, you see, past the veil. It was she who guided me, she who helped me endure the penance my soul put upon itself, the penance it felt it deserved. I am free now; I have paid for what I have done and can move on.” Once again, his gaunt face turned serious. “Not so Sarevok. There is still much hatred and rage in him, keeping him anchored in darkness, keeping him trapped. It even keeps us from reaching him in any way, for at this point he will not allow himself to see us. And it is this that brings me to my errand here today.” Winski’s voice turned a little distant, and he seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “There are many gods who are taking an interest in the whole Bhaalspawn mess,” he said. “They all have their own reasons I suppose, some more benevolent, some less so. None of them may intervene directly, by Ao’s edict, but they may act through agents.”

“And you are one such agent?”

“I am, yes. One of many. I was the one most likely to reach you, and so I was sent.” 

“And that brings me back to my original question. What exactly is it that you want?”

“I would like to ask you to do me a favor. It isn’t anything difficult in itself, but it is very important, for the sake of things that need to happen. It also isn’t anything that will in any way harm you or anybody else, I give you my word on that.” The wizard looked a little frustrated. “I would like to explain more, but there are things I cannot mention. Mustn’t mention. Believe me, I would if I could. The thing I ask is that you remember this conversation as closely as possible, and also that I loved Sarevok as much as you love your own child. I still do. And that I forgave him a long time ago.”

“That’s it?” Dekaras asked, feeling incredulous. “That’s all you’re asking?”

“That, and that you share this knowledge with my child, should you ever be in the position to do so.”

“I sincerely hope that isn’t to be taken as an omen of my imminent death,” the assassin said, raising an eyebrow. 

“I doubt you would wind up in the same place as Sarevok anyway,” Winski said with an ironic smile. “Your deity would make other arrangements, I’m sure. I must say I was surprised at first when I learnt which one you follow, but it does suit you. In a good way. No, I have no idea when you will slip this mortal coil, and you wouldn’t want to know anyway if you think about it. This is simply a request for the possible distant future, and so far, it is only a possibility. Not even the gods know everything that will happen. So, will you do this for me?” 

“Certainly. I would be pleased to deliver your message if I can.” 

A warm smile crossed the dead wizard’s face, and for a few seconds he looked almost entirely alive. “I thought that you would,” he said. “I thank you, and though I must go now I hope we will get the chance to speak again sometime. I found it just as pleasurable as I remembered it, and had we been able to do this in life I believe we could have been quite formidable together. Farewell then…my friend.” Gradually his form became even more transparent, until he had faded from sight entirely. 

“And fare you well also,” Dekaras quietly said. “My friend.”


	41. Life Is Strength

**Cards Reshuffled 41 – Life Is Strength**

_No doubt it must have irked my sire to no end to learn that I no longer found him the scariest person in the world. It must be very embarrassing for a god when your best nightmares are nothing compared to the memories of the actions of a living person._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

It was sunset when they arrived. The castle was sharply outlined against a blood red sky, a vast and compact black shape, topped with spires and turrets like jagged teeth, tearing hungrily at the wind. And on the battlements, there were…things. Rounded things on top of tall, thin things. 

“Great Silvanus…” Jaheira murmured, her voice laced with revulsion. “There are heads on poles all over the place.”

“And that isn’t all,” Edwin grimly added. “I saw something else up there just now, and from the way it moved there is no way it could have been human. (Unless it was a relative of the Helmite of course. I keep expecting him to revert to supporting himself on his knuckles.)”

Despite the approaching darkness, Zaerini could still see Nalia clearly. The young noblewoman’s face had gone as white as a sheet, and her eyes were wide with horror as she stared at her home. “No…father…we…we came too late! They have taken the Keep!” She was clearly trying to keep her composure, but her voice was still trembling. “I cannot believe this…those beasts! Those filthy monsters!” 

Jaheira picked up on this in an instant. “You knew, did you not? You knew that the attackers were other than human, and you did not tell us? What were you trying to do, girl, get us all onto pikes like those ones?” 

“Minsc would not like to go on a pike,” Minsc mused. “It’s hard to kick the butts of Evil when you have no feet.”

Nalia was shaking her head in denial, reddish hair dancing about her chagrined face. “No…I mean…I didn’t mean…”

“Well then, what did you mean?” Jaheira asked, crossing her arms across her chest as she glared at the young woman.

“I had to!” Nalia said, partly guiltily, partly defiantly. “Don’t you see? None of the others would help me when I told the truth, and my father…”

“Listen to me,” Rini said, looking Nalia straight in the face. It was at times like this that she wished she were taller; she was both shorter and slenderer than the human girl and she had to compensate for that with sheer force of will. Fortunately, it seemed to work, as Nalia took a hesitant step backwards. It might have had something to do with the way the half-elf’s eyes reflected the light of the setting sun. “I can understand about trying to help your father. But I don’t like being misled, and if you want us to take even one step further you had better tell us everything you know, truthfully. And if I find out you’ve lied to us…well let’s just say I’ll be very unhappy with you. I don’t like it when my friends’ lives are put needlessly at risk either. Understand?” 

Nalia nodded mutely. 

“Oh, very nice,” Zaerini could hear Edwin say in a quiet voice. “Very, very nice. Especially the way her eyes glowed…” 

“Minsc doesn’t want his Witch to be unhappy either!” Minsc said. “Little Nalia should just tell the truth, and then we can all be friends again.”

Nalia bit her lip. “Yes,” she said. “Yes. I’ll tell you all I know.” What Nalia did tell them was that the attack, which had begun about a week or so previously, wasn’t the work of humans at all. Instead, the invading army was composed of trolls, dangerous monsters that could regrow lost limbs as well, even come back from the brink of death unless you used fire or acid to permanently slay them. “And there were some other creatures as well,” she explained. “I don’t know what they are, they walk upright, but there’s something snakelike about them. They don’t all look the same either, some are almost pure snake, except for maybe having arms, others look almost human, but hiss when they speak. Some have fangs, or forked tongues or scales.” 

“Yuan-Ti,” Edwin said, nodding to himself. “I’ve never actually seen any myself, but I’ve read about them. They’re snake people of course, part human, part reptile in different combinations.” He looked vastly annoyed about something as he went on. “But they shouldn’t be here! Yuan-Ti live in tropical jungles, it should be too cold for them here!” 

“Maybe they didn’t choose to come here,” Rini suggested. “Somebody could have brought them, right?” 

“I suppose so,” the wizard admitted. “If we fight them, we should be prepared for anything. They are clever, and they like using traps.” 

_Please don’t tell me that they use magic too._

“And some of them are spellcasters too,” Edwin went on. “They know some very interesting spells, actually. I wrote an essay on them once, I still remember most of it. (Hmm…maybe I could acquire some interesting scrolls off their charred corpses…)”

“Perfect,” the bard sighed. 

“It cannot be helped,” Anomen interjected, looking eagerly towards the castle. “Innocent people’s lives are at stake…” He blushed as he noticed the heads on the poles. “I mean…at risk. We must strike swift and hard!” 

“Whoa!” Rini told him, shaking her head. “There could be any number of trolls and yuan-ti in there. We can’t just go knock on the front door, that’d be suicide!” 

“Actually,” Nalia said, “I think I have an idea about that…” 

Nalia’s idea involved a secret passage, the very same one she had used to escape the Keep in the first place, and it was decided that they should check it out in the morning. Before going to sleep, Zaerini contemplated the young noblewoman. There was no doubt in her mind that Nalia signified the Page of Cups from her latest Reading. The attitude of well-meaning snobbery and misplaced altruism was exactly the same. _Yet the Reading told me I should try to get along with her, despite her being annoying. And I do feel sorry for her, I guess. I still have no idea what that bit about her embracing Death is supposed to mean though…she’s not about to die, is she? Annoying she might be, but I wouldn’t wish that on her. But somehow that doesn’t feel right._ Other parts of the Reading had certainly come true. The bits about Ployer, the bits about the Harp, broken and corrupted. _And no matter what Jaheira might think I don’t feel the least bit guilty about Softy eating that assassin._ Then there had been the part about Rage. _Korgan, of course. The Reading said he’d lead me to something very important, something that I should make sure to keep around. It has to be the Nether Scroll. I suppose Eddie knows what he’s doing with that thing. At least I hope he does._ The part of the Reading that involved the wizard still worried her though, very much so. And then there had been the things that Irenicus had said… _That I attract murder, and murderers. That those I love will suffer because of me. But they won’t…will they?_

She fell asleep then and dreamt. She was standing in a great hall, but there were no doors or windows in sight anywhere. Nor was there any furniture. What there was, was statues. Hundreds of them, men, women and children. Most were strangers, though now and then it seemed she could just glimpse a familiar face, out of the corner of her eye. Whenever she turned around however, she would be unable to spot it again, the faces of friends and family lost in a sea of anonymous strangers. Having wandered for a while, she sat down on the floor, waiting for something to happen. _And something will happen. It always does, in this kind of dream._

“Life…is strength.” Just those simple words, uttered in the calmest way possible, and yet it was enough to make her heart beat wildly and make her skin feel icy cold with fear. Without thinking, she leapt to her feet, looking about herself, her hand on her sword. _He’s…he’s here! Somewhere, hiding among all these statues? Where is he? What does he want?_ And then she saw him. Irenicus was standing in front of her, watching her with in the same detached manner that he might watch a bug that had fallen onto its back. If he noticed her fear, he ignored it, and the icy blue eyes behind the mask were the same as she remembered them from her worst nightmares. _Like beautiful sapphires. Just as blue. Just as lifeless._ The finely crafted leather mask kept the wizard’s face fully hidden as always, but it had a look of concentration about it, a look of focus. Much the same look as she had seen when he carried out his…experiments. 

“This is not to be contested; it seems logical enough,” Irenicus went on in the dry and lecturing tones of a teacher explaining something to a dull-witted student. “You live; you affect your world.” He cocked his head to one side, the blue eyes narrowing with cold interest. “But is it what you need? You are... different... inside.”

“I know all about that,” the half-elf managed to say, despite the fact that her teeth were chattering as that icy gaze swept over her. “There is nothing you can teach me. I don’t want anything from you.” _That’s what Immy said…he didn’t listen to her._

Irenicus simply shrugged, an oddly graceful movement for such a muscular man, and turned to point at one of the statues. A stout woman clad in the simple dress of a farmer. “This woman lives and has strength of a sort.” Long fingers trailed along the arm of the statue, up across the cheek, as in a horrible parody of a lover’s caress. “She lost her parents to plague, her husband to war, but she persevered.” The mage studied the statue carefully, looking deeply into the unseeing stone eyes as he cupped the woman’s stone chin. “Her farm has prospered, her name is respected, and her children are fed and safe. She lived as she thought she should.” He turned towards Rini again, letting go of the statue. “And now, she is dead.” 

The statue exploded noiselessly, disintegrating into a cloud of fine, white dust, and the startled bard jumped backwards, half expecting to be next. _No…he doesn’t want me dead, does he? He wants something else, something worse…please don’t let him just have killed some poor woman simply in order to prove a point, please don’t let that part be real…_ “You killed her!” she breathed, unable to take her eyes of the wizard. “You…you just killed her! Who are you, that you could do a thing like that?”

Was there a flicker of brief annoyance in the glacial blue eyes at this departure from the script? “That is of no consequence,” Irenicus said, his voice even more monotone than before. “No more than she was. She was simply an…example. Her land will be divided, her children will move on, and she will be forgotten. She lived a "good" life, but she had no power. She was a slave to death.” Now he was coming closer towards her, striding fast, and before she knew it he was holding her tightly by the shoulders, staring down into her face, and she knew she should do something, should fight, but the cold, the cold was paralyzing her, making it hard to think…to move. The wizard’s fingers were trailing along her jawline now, much as they had with the statue, curiously moving upwards to the tip of her ear, tugging curiously at her red hair, and it made her want to scream. It was nothing like Reiltar, not sexual in any way, but in some way, it was even worse. He might as well have been touching some exotic animal, investigating its fur and claws, not caring in the least what the animal thought about it. “I wonder if you are destined to be forgotten,” he mused. “Will your life fade in the shadow of greater beings? You are born of murder, the very essence of that which takes life. You have power, if you wish it. You will learn to use it.”

There was something, something about all of this that tugged at Zaerini’s memories, screaming warnings. _It’s wrong…it’s all wrong somehow…if only I could see…_ And then it came to her. That phrase…’you will learn’. “You’re not him!” she said. “You’re not Irenicus, only a…a mirror image of him. I know you…father. What’s the matter, don’t think you can scare me on your own anymore? Have to masquerade as a mere mortal to pull it off? But I know you now, and none of this is real!” 

For the first time emotion sprang into those blue eyes, raging anger, and they weren’t blue any longer, but a smooth and insectile black. “Really?” hissed the thing pretending to be Irenicus. “But the consequences are so very real.” Imoen suddenly appeared beside him, screaming as lightning tore at her, charring her skin, setting her hair ablaze. 

“NO!” Zaerini screamed, tears running down her cheeks. “It’s not real! None of it is, and you can’t touch me! Do you hear me? You can’t! I won’t allow it!” 

The thing with the mask smirked at her, needle-sharp teeth becoming visible behind the leather mask. “Your actions affect so many others than yourself. You will come to realize how little choice you have.” Slowly it became gradually transparent, fading from sight as the statues burst into dust, one by one. “You will do what you must, become what you must, or others will pay for your cowardice.” The last thing she heard before she woke up was that calm voice speaking into her ear. “You _will_ accept the gifts offered to you.”

Zaerini didn’t sleep much for what remained of the night, remembering her sire’s words. _He’s right about one thing at least_ , she thought. _Life is strength, and as long as I live I won’t become a slave to his wishes. I won’t. No matter which face he’s using._

On the next morning the secret passage proved to be just where Nalia had said it would, a hidden door in a rocky outcrop that hid a tunnel leading directly into Keep De’Arnise. The adventurers silently made their way through it, hoping they wouldn’t find a horde of trolls waiting for them on the other side. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case, and only a dark storeroom greeted them, weapons racks and boxes of arrows and crossbow bolts stacked here and there. 

“We made it in!” Nalia sighed. “The servants’ quarters are close by, and through them we can get into the Keep proper. Then we can start searching for my father and the others. I think we ought to…” She broke off as a terrified scream suddenly echoed through the dark halls somewhere ahead, the wordless cry of somebody on the brink of death. It was followed by a nauseating wet and tearing sound. 

“Evil ahead!” Minsc cried out, drawing the Sword of Chaos while Boo squeaked excitedly from his position on the ranger’s shoulder. “Minsc and Boo will CHARGE AND POUND EVIL INTO PUDDING! AAAARRRGHHH! PUDDING!” With that he stormed out the door, heedless of danger. 

“Let’s go,” Zaerini ordered, motioning Anomen and Jaheira ahead of her, and then followed along with Jan, Edwin and Nalia. The short corridor led into another storage room where a horrifying sight awaited her. The corpse on the ground had presumably been one of the servants. Now it was nothing more than a lump of partially eaten meat, and the creature currently munching on one pale leg seemed to be hungry for more. The troll was big, about as big as Minsc, with flailing spiderish limbs and a hunched back. It was mossy green in color, with a long nose and sunken black eyes. It also had very sharp teeth and claws and seemed very intent on using them. 

Within seconds the battle was well underway. Minsc was trying to cut through the leathery hide of the troll, a task made more difficult by the fact that the monster was clinging to his arm, trying to chew through his armor. Anomen and Jaheira assisted as well as they could, but it seemed that blunt weapons had less effect on the troll than edged ones. Meanwhile the spellcasters hung back, trying to help, but in the general confusion they didn’t dare be too hasty or they might risk hitting their companions. Finally, Edwin summoned up a confused-looking ogre that grabbed the troll from behind, trying to strangle it, and this helped Minsc break free. With a giant roar the ranger swung the enormous Sword of Chaos as easily as if it had been a toothpick, and the troll’s head flew through the air as its body tumbled lifeless to the ground. The ugly head landed right by Zaerini’s left foot, and she was just about to kick it aside when the thing snapped its teeth together, trying to bite her. With a startled yelp she leapt backwards, tripping, and before she knew it she was on her back on the floor, the troll head edging its way towards her by dragging itself with its tongue. The black eyes were still sparkling with malevolent life, and as the head neared her the mouth opened to display a row of very strong teeth. 

There was a hiss and a flash of orange in the air, and the troll headed gurgled and charred, burning brightly. Soon it was a blackened husk, orange flames still leaping about within the now empty eye sockets. Zaerini stared at it in fascination until she felt a hand pulling her to her feet again. “As I said,” Edwin spoke into her ear, “trolls regenerate. Never underestimate a partial troll, fire and acid are the only things that will do.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” the bard murmured, still staring at the burning troll. “Thanks, Eddie.”

“It was my pleasure,” the wizard said, sounding very pleased. “Such is a simple matter for Edwin Odesseiron, the extraordinary master of magic, the most powerful and intimidating wizard you will ever meet.” He was still standing very close to her, close enough that she could feel the heat from his body, and he was still holding onto her hand which was very nice and…

“My lady!” Anomen said, instantly appearing at her other side. “Are you unharmed?”

_Darn._ “Sure, I’m fine,” Rini said, hoping she didn’t sound too impatient. “Not a scratch.” 

“Good!” Nalia chimed in. “Now that that’s settled, let’s move on.” She gave the corpse of the dead servant a regretful look. “Poor man…I must ask father to help his family once this is all over.” 

“Speaking of which,” Jaheira said, “let us go before more trolls turn up. We do not want them to surprise us, after all.” 

In one of the adjoining rooms they encountered Daleson, the Keep’s stable boy, whom the trolls had spared in return for him continuing to look after the livestock. He was able to provide them with some important information too. Apparently, Lord De’Arnise had been taken into what Nalia carefully kept referring to as ‘the cellars’, in reality an old dungeon, but his most powerful weapon, a certain magical flail was still scattered about the Keep, in pieces. Also, the dungeons were guarded by some sort of monster other than trolls or yuan-ti. Daleson didn’t know what they were, only that they were very good at digging, and very fond of dog flesh. 

“We should try to find the flail,” Nalia said once they had left the stable boy behind. “Father rarely uses it, I don’t know why, but I do know that it would work well against trolls. It does both fire and acid damage.” 

“Any idea what those digging beasties might be?” Jan asked. 

“No…I think Daleson might have exaggerated a little. He’s only a servant after all, they keep seeing things all the time or making up things to make themselves look good. They simply don’t know any better. It could be simply…badgers or something I suppose.” 

“Right,” Rini said. “We’ll leave you to deal with the ‘badgers’ when we find them then, how’s that? Honestly Nalia, if only you could hear yourself…” 

“What?” Nalia said, sounding honestly puzzled. “But it is simply the way things are! The lower classes have a hard time separating fact from fiction.” She laughed a little. “I mean, it’s not their fault, but they can’t even separate a napkin from a serviette, can they?” 

Her laugh died out uncertainly as she met the bard’s yellow eyes. 

“Actually,” Edwin said, breaking the deep and uncomfortable silence as he spoke his thoughts out loud, “the difference is clear and obvious, though it has less to do with noble blood as such and more with higher education and upbringing…” 

“Yes Edwin?” Zaerini said, her voice dangerously calm. “Please do continue, I’m sure a _peasant_ such as myself could benefit greatly from a little education. Goodness knows Gorion prioritized other things as I was growing up.”

“Er…” the Red Wizard said. “I only meant that I…that is…I don’t really think of you as a peasant of course…I mean… (Damn. How to get out of this one?)”

“Oh, how kind. Well, this peasant thinks we ought to get going, so if all you blue-blooded ladies and gentlemen don’t mind…” 

As she stalked off, she could hear Nalia’s voice behind her back, sounding almost tearful. “I said something bad, didn’t I?”

Zaerini was still in a bad mood a few minutes later as she entered what at first seemed to be an empty room. It wasn’t that she really cared about whether she had noble blood or not. She would have been happy to know the name of her mother. As for fathers, Gorion had been all she could wish for, and the other one…well, the other one had given her blood that was more than noble, but still wasn’t exactly anything you could boast about. No, what bothered her was Edwin’s reaction. _I knew he was a noble of course, but I never really thought about it much. But…suppose we manage to work everything out between us and then his family gets in the way? Suppose they think I’m too common? Suppose they think I’m not good enough for him?_

_You’re good enough for anybody, kitten_ , Softpaws said. _And the wizard doesn’t think like that, you know it._

_I hope so._

_I know so._

_It’s just…I’d hate for him to get in trouble with his family over me. I know he misses them, even if he doesn’t want to talk about it. Me being a Bhaalspawn is bad enough, but for some people it would be worse that I’m a commoner._

_Maybe. But do those people really matter all that much?_

_I guess not._ Rini smiled, picking her familiar up and rubbing the cat behind one silky black ear. _Thanks, Softy. I guess I shouldn’t have lost my temper back there either. Eddie didn’t mean any harm, and I don’t really think Nalia did either. She…just doesn’t know better, I guess._

It was at this point that Zaerini spotted a small indentation in the stone wall in front of her. Pushing curiously at it she was excited to see a door swing open, revealing a hidden passage. The room behind looked a bit like a burial chamber, there was a large stone sarcophagus, and curiously enough there was also a statue of an elephant. There was no corpse to be seen in the open sarcophagus though. The half-elf was just leaning over the edge to fish out the two objects that were in there as her companions entered the room. She could hear Edwin and Nalia whispering furiously to each other, clearly in the middle of a heated argument. 

“You insulted her first!” Edwin said. 

“You insulted her worse!” 

“I didn’t mean to!” 

“Well, neither did I!” 

“Hey guys!” Rini said, unbending herself and turning around. “Didn’t see you there.”

“That,” Jaheira said, “could have had something to do with the fact that you had your behind in the air and facing the door. So, unless you have eyes there…”

“Oh…er…” The redhead felt her cheeks heating a little, and she couldn’t help noticing that both Edwin and Anomen seemed similarly affected. “Ooops…well, take a look at what I found, anyway.” She held her two prizes up proudly. One was a spiky metal object, attached to a piece of long chain. “Nalia, is this one of those flail heads?”

“Yes!” Nalia exclaimed. “Yes, it is! Well done! Oh, well done! What’s that other thing?”

“This?” Zaerini said, grinning as she looked at the object in her other hand. “This, my dear Nalia, is a spell scroll, that I’m going to claim as part of our payment for helping you out. That all right with you?”

“Oh, by all means,” Nalia said, nodding. “I’m sure Father wouldn’t object to that.” 

The bard climbed down from the sarcophagus and approached Edwin, still with a pleased smile on her face. “You’re gonna love this, I think,” she said. “What with how you’re a Conjurer and everything and keep summoning up all sorts of beasts and monsters.” 

“For me?” the Red Wizard excitedly asked, trying to catch a glimpse of the scroll. “What is it? What is it? Is it…a demon summoning scroll? (I know I can handle it, I’m absolutely certainly positive about it.)” 

“No, something better.” 

“Better?” Edwin asked, dark brows frowning in puzzlement. “What could possibly be better than demon summoning?”

“Well,” Rini said, depositing the scroll in his hands, “how about a pet of your own? Or, to be more exact…a familiar. No mage should be without one…”


	42. Insufferable

**Cards Reshuffled 42 – Insufferable**

_As has been previously stated, the summoning of familiars is a tricky business. The familiar that turns up will not necessarily be the one you think you want, but it will be the one that deep down you really need._

_Excerpt from ‘On Familiars’_

Edwin turned the scroll over again and again in his hands, staring at it in wonder. He still had some problems comprehending the reality of the gift he had been given. He had been thinking about getting himself a familiar for ages, but for some reason the time had never been quite right. And then there was the matter of the scroll itself, even if it wasn’t a very difficult spell to cast it still wasn’t one you could find in just any magical store. He certainly hadn’t seen one during all his travels along the Sword Coast. “A familiar of my own…” he murmured, completely unaware of the silly smile plastered all over his face. “My very own…” 

“I just thought it’d be something you might like,” Zaerini said, looking almost a little shy about it. “You’re fond of monsters and things, and you’ve always got on so well with Softy, so…you’re happy about it then?”

“Oh yes,” Edwin confirmed, taking the half-elf’s hands in his own. “Very, very happy. In fact, I can only think of one thing you could give me that would make me happier. (And that is something perhaps not best given in public.)” He made a shooing gesture at the rest of the party. “The rest of you monkeys, step aside. I’ll not have you crowding my familiar. (Though most likely it will be something big and fearsome enough to gobble them all up, yes.)”

“You intend to cast the spell here?” Jaheira asked, looking about the hidden chamber where the first part of the Flail had been hidden. 

“Of course. There are no trolls in the immediate vicinity, and even if there were, my familiar will certainly be able to look after itself. A powerful and devastatingly sinister wizard such as I will naturally get a familiar that is both impressive and deadly. (An imp perhaps. Or a poisonous snake. Or maybe a vampire bat. Perhaps even a small dragon.)” 

“You never know though,” Jan said, sitting down on the floor and watching the Red Wizard with great interest. “Strange things have been known to happen with familiars. Why, suppose that you and another mage, such as Miss Nalia here, were to cast the spell at the same time. You could wind up as familiars to each other and wouldn’t that be an amusing fix!”

“Preposterous!” Edwin sneered. 

“Utterly,” Nalia agreed in an equally haughty voice. “Pray go on, wizard, we haven’t got all day, you know.” 

“Well, if you knew anything about magic you would know that it cannot be rushed,” Edwin said, smoothing the scroll out. “But what else can one expect from a mere arcane dilettante? (I bet she still thinks conjuring flower bouquets and pigeons is the height of class and sophistication.)” 

“Go on,” Zaerini said, and as she smiled at him, he completely forgot his annoyance at Jan’s comment. “I’m almost as curious as you are, you know.” 

Nodding, Edwin studied the scroll, wanting to be certain he got it completely right. It wouldn’t do to make any sort of mistake. _I just wish that Teacher Dekaras could have been here to see this_ , he thought. _My own familiar…he should have been here to see it. I just hope I’ll get a chance to show my familiar to him…someday._

Softpaws had jumped onto the stone sarcophagus that had hid part of the Flail of Ages, and now the black cat strolled over towards Edwin, looking very interested. _Try to get a cat_ , she suggested. _I think you’re a fine enough mage that you may be worthy of the finest familiar possible, a feline of your own._

_How generous._

_Try to make it a male cat if you can. A strong and handsome one with a healthy shine to his fur and a nice voice._

_Actually, I thought a tiger would be about right._

_Tigers are all right, I suppose. But if you get a proper cat, we could help explain how to go about the mating business properly. You clearly need help with that._

Trying to ignore the cat’s comments as best as he could, Edwin concentrated on casting the spell, making certain he got every syllable, every gesture simply perfect. As soon as he finished there was a soft bell-like sound in the air, and then a brightening light in the air, on top of the sarcophagus. The light grew ever more intense, until Edwin had to shield his eyes against it, and then he could see it solidifying, taking shape, though it was still impossible to make out exactly what the shape was. _Not an imp I think…could it be a tiger? Bit small…maybe…maybe a tiger cub? A really small tiger cub?_

Then the light winked out as suddenly as it had started, and Edwin felt his mouth slowly dropping open as he stared in horror at his new familiar. “That’s….that’s…that’s…”

“Ooooh!” Nalia gushed. “Isn’t he cute?”

“That’s…that’s…that’s…”

“He sure is,” Zaerini agreed. “Aw, look at that fur, it seems very soft, and he’s so fluffy.”

“That’s…that’s…that’s…”

“It is a bit small,” Minsc said, peering at the familiar, “but the wizard needn’t worry. Boo will make certain to protect it.” 

“That’s…that’s…that’s…” 

“At least it will fit in your pack,” Jaheira said, chortling. “The only real danger would be sitting on it by mistake.” 

“That’s…that’s…that’s…” 

“I do believe I’ve heard,” Anomen said, openly laughing, “that a familiar is said to match his mage’s personality. Verily, I am certain I would never have guessed that this particular wizard had such a…fuzzy side to him.” 

“That’s…that’s…that’s…” 

“You know,” Jan mused, “this reminds me of when my second cousin Hanna Jansen summoned a familiar. Boy, was she surprised when the familiar that turned up happened to be a very small spider. But, she decided to make the best of it, and now she’s become a Priestess of Lloth and is very happy with her new career, sending us a letter every Solstice with some line drawings of her latest sacrifices…” 

“That’s a monkey!” Edwin screamed, slamming his hand down on the sarcophagus, almost unaware of the pain involved. “An INSUFFERABLE MONKEY!” 

_Hi boss!_ A small voice spoke inside his head. _Pleased to meet you too. That’s my name? Insufferable? Mmmm…I like it! Here, let me give you a hug!_

Before Edwin knew it, his new familiar was hugging his thumb tenderly, using its entire body to do so, including all four legs and the fluffy tail. It was the tiniest monkey he had ever seen; in fact, his thumb was slightly longer than it was. It was covered with brown, fluffy fur, apart from the pink and wrinkly little face that was dominated by two large almond-shaped and glittering eyes, and it had four tiny little hands with minute claws. _Yep_ , it said, grinning up at him. _Insufferable is a good name._

_But…but I wanted something big and fearsome and intimidating!_

_I can do fearsome, boss! Here, just let me show you!_ The little animal rapidly climbed up along Edwin’s arm and onto his shoulder, where it then proceeded to roar threateningly at the rest of the party. It sounded a bit like the growl of an angry kitten. Edwin had only rarely felt so humiliated. 

“Yes,” Anomen scoffed, “extremely frightening. Watch me tremble with fear.” Then he winced visibly as Zaerini gave him a withering glare. 

“Well, I happen to think he’s great,” she said, rubbing the little monkey under the chin, something that made the animal chirp with pleasure. Her sympathetic look made Edwin feel a little bit better. Just a little bit. 

_Ooooh!_ Insufferable said as the half-elf tickled his tummy. _I like her, boss! She’s your mate?_

_No._

_No? Why in the world not? How thick can you be? She’s not the mate of that nasty one in the metal, is she?_

_NO!_

_Well, sheesh! Only asking. But don’t worry, boss. I happen to be an expert on such things, I’ll help you with the mating thing, so you don’t mess it up. First, you should give her a bunch of nice bananas. A big bunch, nicely brown. Maybe some oranges too if she’s playing hard to get. Me, I’d probably go for some nice insects and spiders, but I guess you larger primates need something more substantial. And then you’ll soon be groooooming her for fleas, oh yeah! Try beating yourself on your chest too, I hear that works for gorillas._

_I’ll beat something all right if you don’t shut up._

_Tetchy, tetchy…hey, I know! Try showing her your bottom. Do you have a nicely swollen purple bottom? I think it’s gibbons who’re attracted to that…or is it baboons?_

_My bottom is not swollen, and she is not a baboon!_

_Whatever. We’re all simians you know. No big diffie, so don’t get all uptight about it. Next you’ll probably claim you’re superior just ‘cause you’ve got opposable thumbs._

_Well, we are!_

_Yeah? Well, I have four hands, now that’s what I call superior!_ It was at this point that Insufferable spotted Softpaws, who was watching him with a mixture of curiosity and disdain on her face. _Hey! Pretty kitty! Come on, you love me, you know you do! Can I ride your back?_

The cat looked Edwin straight in the eyes, something that made him take an involuntary step backwards. _A male cat_ , she said, her voice chilly. _Not too much to ask for, is it?_ Then she jumped into Zaerini’s arms, steadfastly ignoring the fact that Insufferable was making hooting catcalls at her. 

“This is all some sort of dreadful mistake,” Edwin said with the calm voice of somebody past the edge of despair. “A dreadful, dreadful mistake.” Insufferable was standing on his shoulder, holding onto his earlobe with one tiny, clawed hand. “I will try again, I’m sure I remember the spell and…”

“Nuh uh,” Nalia said, shaking her head. “You should know better. Only one familiar per mage, and you can’t get a new one as long as you have the old one.”

“Well in that case I will simply…” Edwin trailed off as something small and furry nudged his cheek. “Simply…” Now it was kissing him. “Simply…” 

“What!” Anomen suddenly shouted, pointing accusingly at Insufferable. “That…that little beast! Look at it!” 

Edwin turned his head. The monkey was making some very complicated grimaces at the cleric, including one that involved draping its lips over the top of its head. It then followed up with a couple of extremely rude gestures, made all the more so by the fact that it was four arms doing them rather than two. Finally, it waggled its behind at the priest. A slow smile spread across Edwin’s face. “In that case I think I’ll simply keep him,” he said. “Small he may be, but obviously he has a keen intellect and is a wonderful judge of character, as befits any familiar of mine. (And perhaps a nutritious diet will take care of the size issue.)”

There were some more trolls ambling about in the corridors of the bottom floor of Keep De’Arnise, but they didn’t seem too well organized, and the adventurers managed to fight them off without sustaining any serious injuries themselves. Once they were reasonably certain that there were no more trolls in the immediate vicinity they decided to rest for an hour or so before going on. They paused in the main reception room, a large hall where banners hung on the walls and empty suits of armor stood in the corners. At one end there were some chairs, one of them larger and more impressive than the others. Nalia explained that this was the place where her father would conduct formal business as lord of this land. 

“So, let me get this straight, Nalia,” Zaerini asked the younger woman as they sat resting side by side, leaning against the wall. “We’re trying to find your father, yes?”

“Yes?”

“And your father has been taken into these dungeons…pardon me, ‘cellars’ of yours.”

“Yes?”

“And these ‘cellars’ can only be accessed from the top floor of the castle, via a secret passage accessible only through your Aunt’s bedroom?”

“Yes?”

“Well, doesn’t that sound just a little bit strange to you?”

Nalia looked a little blank. “No…why?”

“Well, doesn’t your Aunt object to people going tromping through her bedroom whenever they want to…to fetch some wine or apples from the cellars or whatever?” 

Nalia suddenly giggled. “Sorry…” she said. “It’s just…that if you’d ever met Auntie Delcia you wouldn’t need to ask that question. “Auntie is a very…formidable woman. And outspoken. People tend to do as she says. Anyway, we don’t really use the ‘cellars’, the passage is normally closed and locked.”

“Yes, but why build it that way in the first place?”

“Well,” Nalia said, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “some of my ancestors weren’t…very nice. They didn’t understand about how important it is to help people, like I do. And I’m told that the first Lady De’Arnise was very fond of the…the ‘cellars’ and liked to go down there in the middle of the night sometimes. I’ve seen a portrait of her, she wore this spiky leather thing and was carrying a whip.” 

“Oh,” Rini said, thinking about it. “Yes, I suppose that explains a lot. Your Aunt doesn’t carry a whip, I hope?”

Nalia shook her head. “No.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.” 

“She doesn’t really need one. Though she does like to carry a riding crop, she says it keeps the servants more alert, which isn’t really very enlightened of her I think.” 

“Oh, good. I can’t wait to meet her…” _Though I’m starting to hope the trolls will meet her before I do. Maybe she’d make them choke._

“I’m not sure even the trolls would dare offend Auntie Delcia,” Nalia said, echoing the bard’s thoughts. “I am worried about Father though…if…if something were to happen to him…” She swallowed heavily and then looked away, trying to keep her face under control. Rini felt her heart go out to the younger woman. Nalia might have some annoying traits, but this she could sympathize with. 

“I know,” she said in a kind voice, handing Nalia a handkerchief. “I…lost my father, Gorion, not all that long ago. I hope we’ll be able to save yours.” 

“Thank you,” Nalia said, smiling faintly as she dabbed at her eyes. 

“Ladies? Might I be allowed to join you for some pleasant conversation and repose?” Zaerini looked up to see Anomen standing close by. The squire had apparently used the resting period to not only polish his armor until it gleamed like the sun, but to groom his beard and comb his hair until the brown curls gleamed almost as much as the armor did. A stray beam of sunlight entering through the small windows under the roof gleamed off white teeth as he smiled. _It’s funny…he’s just as much into grooming as Eddie is, isn’t he? But he seems to be taking more and more pains with it, I wonder why that is?_

_Oh, I don’t know_ , Softpaws said from her resting place in the bard’s lap. _Maybe he’s trying to make an impression on somebody._

_Maybe…but don’t you think Nalia is a little young for him?_

The cat’s sigh was filled with exasperation and she rose and wandered off, looking quite annoyed. 

“Sure Anomen,” Rini said. “Go ahead.” 

“I’ll just…er…just go see what Minsc is doing,” Nalia hurriedly said. “I feel like…like petting Boo a little. Yes, that’s it.” She hurriedly got to her feet and left. 

“Thank you for granting me the pleasure of your company, my lady,” the cleric said as he sat down. “I could not help but overhear you mentioning Gorion…I understand that he was very much like a father to you. What was your relationship with him like?”

The half-elf thought about this for a few moments, memories whirling through her head. Gorion telling stories, marvelous stories about monsters and magic. Gorion comforting her when she had fallen from a tree and scraped her knee, wiping her tears away. Gorion surprising her on her birthday, gifting her with a small violin. Gorion patiently listening when she practiced on said violin, despite the fact that it sounded like a cat getting strangled. Gorion’s arms, comforting her at night when the nightmares came, nightmares of blood and murder. “He was the best father I could have wished for,” she said, her voice a little choked. “A wonderful man. I’ll always miss him.”

Anomen nodded, and though he was smiling there was a darkness in his blue eyes, something old and sad. “Ah, I see,” he said. I must admit, my lady, that I am rather jealous of you. My own father, Lord Cor, is nothing like your Gorion and he and I did not have a good relationship. Still do not, in fact.” 

Rini could almost feel her eyes perking up with curiosity. Anomen had never really spoken about his family, saying only that they were merchant nobility and that his father and sister resided in the government district. This was definitely news. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. 

A bitter smile was playing around the corners of Anomen’s mouth by now, and when he spoke, he seemed to do so almost as much to himself as to her. “If Lord Cor was not deep into his cups, he was demanding that I uphold the family honor...or telling me what a worthless son I had become. He was derisive of my choice to join the Order. He wanted me to take over his mercantile business...something I truly had no stomach for. I would have given much for my father to be my mentor...but, instead, I endured his abuse until I was able to squire for the Order. I fled as quickly as I was able to.”

_And that’s not all, is it?_ Rini thought. _There’s more, I’m sure of it. Poor Anomen…what must that have been like? Gorion…I never doubted that he loved me, ever. Every child deserves to have that. No wonder he’s so eager about the Order either, it’s his way of proving himself._ “That’s completely horrible, Anomen!” she said, taking the priest’s hand and giving it a brief squeeze. “But you’re not worthless at all, you know. I don’t think so. And if your father can’t see that, then he’s a blind fool.” 

Anomen laughed briefly, and there was a strangely earnest look in his eyes. “Ah, my lady, you always manage to lighten my spirits,” he said. “I…I suppose I am telling you this because you remind me a little of my sister, Moira. She is young and determined...I miss her.... perhaps the only thing of my family I miss.” His face turned solemn once more. “I regret abandoning her to her fate, alone with Lord Cor...but there was...little I could do. She...I am sure she...” Then he shook his head briskly. “No. Never mind. I do not wish to speak further about this, my lady Zaerini...excuse me.” He stood hastily, with a mumbled excuse about going to check on his supply of healing potions, and turned away from her, but not before she could see a suspicious shine in his eyes. 

_Poor Anomen…I wish there was something I could do for him. But there isn’t, at least not here and now._

Zaerini’s musings were suddenly interrupted by a wild and panicky scream inside her head. _Aaaaaahhh! Get it off, get it off, get it OFF OF ME!_ As she looked up, she was almost bowled over by a furry black comet that came hurling towards her, hissing and spitting. Softpaws’ fur was standing so much on edge that she looked twice her normal size, her eyes were glowing like green fire, and on her back…on her back was a very tiny and fluffy brown monkey, gleefully clinging to her neck with its legs as it yanked at her whiskers with tiny hands. Insufferable certainly seemed to be enjoying himself, even if the cat wasn’t. As her enraged familiar leapt onto her shoulder, Rini was very grateful that she was wearing a thick tunic, as Softpaws seemed to have utterly forgotten about pulling her claws in. Somehow, she managed to get hold of the cat, and then pried the tiny monkey off of her. It sat fearlessly in the middle of her palm, grinning up at her. 

_That…that little disgusting beast!_ Softpaws hissed. _I’ll show it I’m not a horse, give it here and I’ll swallow it whole!_

_I can’t let you eat Edwin’s familiar! He’d never forgive me._

_What about me? That…that thing tried to ride me!_

_I’ll make sure he doesn’t do it again, I promise._

_Hmpf. You’d better. If he comes near my back again I will eat him, familiar or not._

Suddenly there was another voice in Zaerini’s head, a cheeky, cheerful little voice. _Hi, pretty cat lady! Will you rub my tummy some more?_

_I suppose I might…but only if you promise to never try to ride my cat again._

The little monkey pouted for a few seconds, but then it grinned again. _All right. I just got bored…the boss is working too hard on that scroll of his and I wanted to have some fun. But I promise I won’t make the pretty kitty mad again. Not if you don’t want me to._ It almost seemed the tiny beast was leering up at her, but surely that couldn’t be? 

_I think I’d better take you back to Eddie_ , she said as she administered the promised tummy rub. _You’re his responsibility after all._

_Mmmm…that feels so good!_ Insufferable gave her an innocent look that she didn’t trust one bit. She already had a good idea this monkey was about as innocent as its wizard was. _Want me to find you some insects? Some really nice insects?_

_I’ll pass, thanks._

_Some bananas? Spiders, maybe? There’s good eating on a spider._

_No thanks._

By this time Rini had reached the corner where Edwin sat, totally immersed in the Nether Scroll, his cowl slipping forward so that his face was hidden. Now and then he muttered something to himself, and he was clearly concentrating so deeply that he was practically in a different world. “Your monkey tried to ride on the back of my cat,” she said in a mock-stern voice, causing the wizard to jump. Then she rapidly deposited the little animal in the middle of the Nether Scroll, from where it rushed up along Edwin’s arm to his shoulder and proceeded to nuzzle his ear. 

“Agh!” Edwin said, jumping. “Do you have to sneak up on me like that? Suppose I had mistakenly uttered a few syllables from the Scroll and…and turned the entire ocean into blood or something? Or caused a plague of grasshoppers and door-to-door-salesmen? (I bet she would be sorry then).” 

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” the half-elf laughed, unable to hold her chuckle back. Then she plopped down on the floor next to the wizard, lying on her stomach with her feet in the air, still grinning mischievously. “You sort of deserved it though, for not keeping track of your monkey. Poor Softy was beside herself.” _And you look very cute when you’re flustered too._

Edwin had removed Insufferable from his shoulder and was holding the monkey in his palm, presumably telling it off through the familiar link. From the utterly unrepentant look of the monkey and Edwin’s increasingly red face, it didn’t seem as if he was having much success though. “No!” the wizard finally almost shouted. “Humans do not do that! Or that! And she does not want to ‘groom me for fleas’, even if I had any, which I don’t. (Unlike certain disgusting warrior types I pay attention to my personal hygiene).” He suddenly seemed to realize that he had spoken out loud, and his cheeks turned an even brighter red than before. “I…that is…what I meant to say was…”

“That’s all right, Eddie,” Zaerini said with an absolutely straight face. “I’ll groom you for fleas anytime you ask me to.”


	43. Secrets and Skulls

**Cards Reshuffled 43 – Secrets and Skulls**

_People who care for and love each other should always try to share important things; I think. Such as little facts about their life. Such as very important, tall, dark and most probably extremely pissed off facts about their life. Sharing things like that in advance is the sort of thing that really helps a relationship along._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

As the adventurers progressed up the broad stairs to the second floor of Keep De’Arnise, Edwin was very pleased to find himself walking next to Zaerini. Watching the way that the flickering light from the torches stuck in sconces here and there on the rugged stone walls gleamed off the half-elf’s red hair made his heartbeat faster, and his skin feel hot. He had to forcibly suppress several exotic images from the Book of Kaza from his conscious thoughts. One very interesting feature of the book was that the pictures would change when you looked at them long enough, portraying the person of your choice. _It isn’t really the same as peeping. I wouldn’t do that. Probably. At least not if I thought she would catch me doing it. Anyway, it’s just a book._

_Sure thing, boss!_ Insufferable piped up. The little monkey was currently sitting on Edwin’s head, pulling at his hair whenever it wanted his attention, which was constantly. _Just a book, right. I’ve seen it inside your thoughts, you know. And I bet you wouldn’t mind at all to have your mother catch you reading it._

Edwin felt a cold icicle of dread slice through his stomach at that thought. Having his mother give him one of her infamous scoldings would be bad enough. But if he was really unlucky she might decide that she ought to educate him about how to ‘properly do things’. _Like that time when she caught me trying to summon Concubine Constructs when I was fifteen…I still don’t think I would have been too young! Or that I was ‘greedy’. I only wanted a reasonable number of them. Four or so. I’m sure they wouldn’t have ‘worn me out’; I was always very mature for my age…_

_Sure you were, boss. So why don’t you display some of that maturity by saying something nice to impress the pretty cat lady? Go on, you can do it. And if you can’t think of anything, I find that ‘ook’ really tends to say it all. Can’t go wrong with ‘ook’, they just melt, yeah, yeah, yeah! Whoa, babe!_

“Ook?” Edwin’s traitorous mouth said before his brain had time to cut in with a vehement protest. 

“What?” Zaerini said in a surprised voice, half turning around. “Did you say something, Eddie?”

_Damn. Damn, damn, damn! Monkey, I’ll turn you into a…a fingermuff for that one!_

_Ooops…sorry, boss._

“Er…” Edwin desperately tried. “I just said…’oh!’ Oh, this dreary old primitive edifice with its drafty walls and leaking roof is really just a barbarian cave compared to my home. You should see the Odesseiron Mansion in its full glory…the marble, the gold, the jewels, the grand sculptures, the gardens with the flowers in full bloom and fountains spurting crystalline water towards the heavens, furniture crafted by the finest of masters, enchantments everywhere to keep everything in perfect working order. Like the diamond and crystal chandelier, held magically afloat…or the conservatory with the magical harps…or the trophy room. (I still miss that stuffed tiger.)”

“I see,” Zaerini said, but she sounded rather downcast. “That all sounds very…very nice. And wealthy.” 

“Oh yes,” Edwin went on, aware that something was wrong, but not exactly what it was. “And one day, one day I will show it all to you. (And I would shower her with gifts…though no jewels could compare with her eyes.)” 

Deep sigh. “Right. And…and what about your parents? What are they like? Wealthy and noble too, I suppose? Powerful? Influential? Eager to see you take your proper place in society, or however it’s phrased?” 

Edwin wasn’t sure exactly what the bard was getting at, but he knew that he was getting onto dangerous ground. _Still, it can’t hurt to tell her a little bit. If…if everything eventually goes as it should, she needs to know anyway._ “Well, Mother is a very formidable woman. Very intelligent, beautiful, a most powerful wizardess. Very…very…” _Tempestuous? Dominant? Vengeful?_ “Very strong willed,” he finally settled on. “Hardly anybody would dare contradict her…I mean, she does tend to get things her way.” 

“I see,” Zaerini said, raising an eyebrow. She didn’t look very relieved about the thought. “What about your father?”

Now, this was an even more sensitive subject. _‘He’s a gibbering imbecile’ doesn’t sound too good…of course my genes are fortunately superior, but it still might put her off._ “He’s a little bit eccentric,” he said.

“What, like Nevaziah the Lich?”

“No! Not that eccentric! And he doesn’t really mean any harm, it’s just that he tends to…to get excited about things.”

“Excited.”

“Yes, and…and carried away. Just a little foible, really.” Edwin frantically tried to think of something different to say. Galen Odesseirons oddities were not something he wanted to go into at the moment. “Anyway,” he rambled on, “I never had all that much to do with him. I was more or less raised by our House Assassin, you know.”

“Your family has a private assassin?”

“Oh yes,” Edwin happily went on. “And not just anybody either,” he proudly stated. “He’d never say so himself, but I’m sure that Master Dekaras is the best assassin in all of Faerun. He’s good enough that he could slit your throat and you wouldn’t even notice until your head fell off. Or he could slip poison into your food while it was on your fork, heading for your mouth, and your first clue would be your tongue bloating to the size of your fist, choking you! Or he could place a crossbow bolt through your eye, from atop a roof, in a rainstorm at midnight, with a blindfold on!” 

“And he raised you? That’s very…reassuring?”

“Absolutely.” Edwin suddenly felt a lump in his throat as fond memories of his teacher nearly overwhelmed him. “I…owe him more than I can say. He always looked out for me; he would have done anything for me. And I…” He bit the sentence off as he realized that he had been on the verge of revealing everything, so caught up had he become in his narration. _I repaid him by betraying his trust. He may never forgive me that._

“Yes, Edwin?” Zaerini asked, her golden eyes wide as she bent towards him, looking up into his face. He wanted to tell her…but he didn’t dare. Not yet. 

“I miss him,” he simply said, nervously fingering the amulet hanging around his throat. The faint warmth emanating from it calmed him a little. Just a little. “I miss him a great deal.” 

The half-elf nodded solemnly, and then her arm sneaked around his waist, giving him a brief hug. “I can see that,” she said. “You sounded like I do about Gorion…I guess he must be really special to you, huh? I hope you’ll see him again someday soon.” 

Edwin simply nodded, not trusting himself to speak, a condition partially caused by the emotional memories overwhelming him, and partially by the fact that her arm had lingered perhaps just a little longer than had been strictly necessary. 

As a brighter light became visible towards the end of the corridor Jan scouted ahead, peering around the corner. “Two big trolls,” he reported as he returned. “I couldn’t get close enough to get a clear view of the whole room though, so there might be more.”

“We do not want them to be able to surround us,” Jaheira said, frowning. “The best would be if we could attract them here. The corridor is narrow enough that they would have to approach us one at a time.” 

“Well, I’m sure that can be arranged if you like, Jaheira dearie,” Jan whispered, “but are you really sure you want to attract trolls? That sort of thing can be really dangerous, you know. My Grandfather’s younger brother, Tycho Jansen of Sembia, found that out by mistake.”

“Jan…”

“See, old Tycho had bought himself this goat-skin cloak that he was sure would make him cut an impressive figure with all the gnomish ladies. Nice and warm it was, very shaggy. Only problem was it still smelled like a goat too, one that has been in the sun for too long.”

“Jan.” 

“And then one day he was crossing this bridge, when look and behold, this big old troll jumps up from below the bridge, determined to eat him! Trolls are particular to goat flesh, you know.”

“Jan!” 

“Well, Tycho was a true Jansen, and not about to give up that easily. As the troll charged him, he lowered his head, determined to butt it over the railing in true goatish tradition.”

“And did it work?” Jaheira sighed. 

“Only partially. He tossed the troll off the bridge all right, but then its lawyer sued him for ‘causing corporal damage and emotional devastation’ and cleaned him of everything he owned, down to the last turnip. Those Sembians are crazy about lawsuits you know. All they left him was the goat cloak, and he spent the rest of his life performing in a circus as ‘Baaah – Half Goat, Half Gnome’. Which proves that Law is a very dangerous thing, and something that all sensible people should avoid at all costs.” 

“Our definitions of sensible are clearly very different,” the druid glowered. “Now be quiet before the trolls hear us.” 

“Well, I never! Just because of that I’m not telling you the part about the heartbreaking romance Tycho had with the Bearded Lady. Very fine woman she was, and a most impressive beard too. You lads would have been green with envy if you’d seen her.”

Edwin found himself slowly grinding his teeth and he noticed that Anomen’s eyes were closed and that the cleric seemed to be muttering something inaudible. 

“That’ll do for now,” Zaerini said. “Now, about those trolls…anybody have any ideas?”

“Actually,” Edwin slowly said, “I do.” 

Trolls, as it happens, are relatively simple creatures, almost innocent in their charming ways of eating, sleeping, and mating. Of course, there is the slight detail of exactly what they like to eat, but that is simply the way of nature, much the same as humans eating, say, chicken. Possibly the chickens would classify humans as Evil Monsters if they had anything to say about it, and send out troops of especially large roosters to try to cleanse the world of the evil blight that feeds upon their flesh and on their unborn young. All in all, it probably is a good thing that chickens can’t use swords or sorcery. Except, of course, for the chickens.

As for the trolls waiting just inside the doorway, they turned around in surprise as two round, smooth and white objects came whirring through the air towards them. They looked exactly like the sort of food the trolls preferred, even if there didn’t seem to be much meat on them. Still, food shouldn’t be wasted. Salivating happily, the two trolls opened their mouths wide, prepared to catch the tasty treats within their strong jaws. They couldn’t help themselves, it was a reflex reaction, something evolved during millennia. Unfortunately, evolution only adapts very slowly to changing circumstances, and it would take the mutational capacity of teenage fashion to help any species adapt to having a Skull Trap suddenly explode in your mouth. The trolls’ final thoughts were that all in all, this meal wasn’t really worth the bother.

BOOOOOOOM! 

“Oh, eeeeeew!” Nalia said. “I’ve got slimy troll bits all over me…I never thought they’d fly that far! They won’t grow back from this, will they?”

“They could,” Edwin said, “but a well-placed Fireball should soon take care of that trifling detail. I should like to be as thorough as possible.” 

“That was a very clever idea,” Zaerini said admiringly. “Very clever. Great job, Eddie!”

“Ah…it was a simple matter of course, for a mage with my immense control over the powers that shape the universe, not to mention an intricate understanding of various forms of monstrous wildlife and their patterns of behavior…though you were of some help as well, casting the second spell according to my instructions…” 

The half-elf’s smile had about the same effect on Edwin’s thought processes as the Skull Traps had had on the trolls’, but unlike them he didn’t care at all. 

_On a different plane of existence entirely…_

There was a momentary lull in the battle. Sarevok marched in the legions of the Damned, beneath a sky that rained hot blood from jagged wounds in reality. The ground in this particular part of the Abyss was constantly moist, the blood having seeped so deeply into it that it was completely saturated. The tall warrior momentarily turned his head to gaze towards the dark mountains in the distance, ringed by flickering flames of an unspeakable white. There was something wrong with them…they kept flickering in and out of sight, and it was extremely hard to judge the distance to them. Still, it was something to look at, other than the blooded earth. 

There were things that lived on this level too, things that were so alien that it actually hurt your soul to look at them. _And that will not do. Not when my soul is all of me that is left._ For example, there had been the teeming herds of hundreds of white, legless fat creatures, mindlessly capering beneath the hostile sky. They had almost looked like worms or larvae…right up until the point when Sarevok had noticed the stubs that had once been arms and legs, the drooling mouths and vacant eyes. Perhaps they had once been human, sentient beings with dreams and hopes, and lives of their own. Now…they were cattle. He had watched as some of the chortling demons commanding him and the other damned souls separated a few of the…things…from the herd, spitted them on their swords and laughed about it. The loud squeals of the dying ones had echoed in his thoughts for days afterwards. Or was it weeks? Time in the Abyss was a very uncertain matter. Then there had been the fires…and the smell of roasting meat. And then…

_I had no choice. They commanded us and would have destroyed those who disobeyed. To them…we are cattle too. One day they will learn differently, and I will return to life and power. One day, in some way. But for now, I must stay alive…existing. I will not have my essence destroyed over something unimportant like the fate of a few mindless beasts. I have done worse, during my life, worse than simply protecting myself._ Golden eyes turned distant for a moment. _And yet…should I find myself alive at this very moment, a splendid feast laid out before me, I would certainly pass on the pork._ The firm jaw tensed, muscles contracting beneath bronzed skin. _How dare they force me, Sarevok, into doing that? I am the spawn of Murder; I would have drenched the Sword Coast in blood. But that was all by my own choice! I took what I wanted and paid for it, am still paying for it. Nothing like being prodded into vile acts by the demonic slavering hordes, simply for their…their amusement!_

_Oh no, big bro?_ The lightly teasing feminine voice echoed suddenly within the large warrior’s mind, causing him to blink with surprise. 

_Little sister? Here? No, that is impossible! She yet lives, I would know it if her flame had been extinguished._ Yet the voice of the redheaded half-elf had been quite unmistakable. 

_It’s me all right._ The voice sounded a bit amused, but there was sadness beneath. Why this should be, he did not know, and the thought filled him with anger. He should know! He should know everything there was to know about her, every secret of her soul, because…because… The thought trailed off. For a moment he had known something, had seen it clearly, but now it was gone again. 

_How can this be?_

_It’s hard to explain…this isn’t all of me, you know. The greater part of me has no idea I’m even here. But I am always here with you, big bro. I always was, ever since the beginning, though you wouldn’t let yourself admit it. She…the rest of me…doesn’t know either._

_Doesn’t know what?_ Sarevok edged his hand closer to his sword, ignoring the hostile and suspicious glares of the Blood War warriors marching next to him. _If this is some trick, if you are a fiend sent to torment me with my sister’s voice, then take warning! Sarevok will not stand for trickery, and it will be met with the edge of my blade, destroying every last spark of your essence. And believe me, my laughter will echo between the hills as I rend you asunder, reveling in your ultimate destruction!_

_Glad to see you still have some spunk!_ The voice turned more serious. _This place could well destroy you, given enough time, and I won’t let that happen if I can help it. I am me, not a demon, and I need you, just as much as you need me._

_I need nobody. I do as I wish, and regret nothing._

_No? What about that poor thing you were just thinking about? Thought for certain I sensed some regret there? And him you didn’t even know._

_What is that supposed to mean?_

_Look brother, you weren’t quite right before. You made your choices, yes. They weren’t entirely your own though…our dear old Daddy was nudging you along every step of the way, wasn’t he? And you didn’t have my luck when it came to resisting. Not all the fault is yours, only part of it. But yes, part of it was you, and you’ve decided that you deserve to be punished for it._

_I never said that!_

_You don’t have to. In a way, I know you better than you know yourself. So, where was I? Yeah. Punishment. But for a punishment to be worth anything it has to have meaning, and you still haven’t allowed yourself to remember more than a fraction of what you’ve done. How can you ever regret the fates of faceless strangers when you won’t even let yourself remember the faces you used to love? Or admit what you did to them?_

Sarevok suddenly shivered as his sister’s words echoed through him. _I do not know of what you speak, and I will have no more of this!_

_It isn’t really me doing anything, you know. It’s all you. You’re just using this part of me to tell you what you know deep down already. Like I said, the rest of me doesn’t even know you’re talking to me. But she does know about what happened to Winski…and Tamoko. How is it that you do not?_

_NO!_ Sarevok’s mental cry was the roar of an angered beast. _Say no more!_

_All right then. But think about one thing, big bro. If you really regret nothing…then why are you afraid of remembering? I’ll go now…I’ll be back when next you call me._ The flickering presence of his sister faded from his consciousness, until he could sense it no longer, departing with an almost imperceptible caress of his cheek. For a few moments Sarevok stared into empty space, and the look in his glittering golden eyes was one of loss and of longing. Then he marched on, along with the Legion of the Damned. There was a new strength and firmness of purpose in his steps, and his face was filled with grim resolve. 

Elsewhere, all was calm, dark and still. Irenicus ran his mind through its regular exercises, with the graceful ease of a rider putting a magnificent horse through its paces. Control. Absolute control. A cell he might be in, but that could only imprison his body. Aided by the darkness and solitude of the holding cell, his mind roamed free. 

With careful precision the wizard once again began testing the different wards imprisoning him. Still they held, but they would not do so eternally. _Nothing of this world lasts forever, not even The People. I will not allow myself to be caged in a prison of flesh, decaying, rotting. Eventually, I will have what I deserve, what I have already paid for. She never knew what a mistake she made, did she? She cut me loose from everything that might have helped anchor me here, in the mud, with the animals. He who has nothing to lose will gladly risk everything for one small chance at ultimate triumph. And mine is now a very real chance. With a partially divine soul, I will be able to direct the flows of power with greater purpose than before, shaping them to my will as I failed to do before. Yet, there are other matters to attend to first_. 

Escaping this cell would be the first of those matters of course. Yes, the wards still held…but something had changed. His mind probed delicately. One of them was shifting…altering subtly. _Ah. I am to have a visitor, it seems. Interesting._

Time passed, and Irenicus waited patiently. Eventually the door opened, and he closed his eyes well before that, not wishing to irritate his eyes, grown used to darkness, apart from the dull red glow of his own bodyheat. The flash of light across closed eyelids was still somewhat painful, but it could be handled. One wonders how it would feel if the eyes were forced open on purpose. I will keep it in mind, in case further experiments are needed once the Bhaalspawn is recaptured. 

“Hello, Coordinator Wanev,” Irenicus said dispassionately, not opening his eyes. A sharp intake of breath, easily caught by his sensitive ears confirmed his suspicion. _The fool. Does he think sight is everything? His footsteps are unmistakable, with that shuffling gait of his, right leg dragging slightly. And so is his hair oil…very distinctive and most likely cheap. Not putrid enough to mask the stench of his fear though. Or his…need? Yes. Need. He wishes something of me. Fear and need. Perfect._

“How did you know it was me?” the man outside the cell door asked. Anger in the voice, but the apprehension was clear. 

“I know many things, Coordinator Wanev. And as my…keeper…you are naturally of some interest to me.” Just the tiniest hint of a sneer to the cold voice, enough to put the man even further off balance.

The breathing in front of him grew even louder, more frantic. So ludicrously simple to read. 

“I…what do you…” 

“You are checking your wards now, Coordinator Wanev. Do not worry. They are in place. For now.” _And now he will be wondering for how long, and that will make him even more insecure…may be enough to make him make a mistake. Now count the heartbeats. One…two…three…four…five._ Irenicus allowed his eyes to snap open, making certain he stared directly into the mesmerized dark ones of the Coordinator, focusing the full force of his cold sapphire gaze on the man in front of him. “Why have you come here, Coordinator Wanev? What does the Master of Spellhold wish?” _Master of Spellhold…not for long now, I think. And on some level I believe he almost knows it._ He noticed the Coordinator glancing uncertainly at the mask, clearly bothered by its emotionless and smooth face. 

“I want to know who you are!” the Coordinator said, his face flushed with embarrassed anger. “How is it that you are able to withstand every test I device? How is it that you sit in this holding cell, calm and unbroken? What is the full extent of your power, and how did you come by it?”

_Not only anger and fear, but greed. I have him now._ After some deliberation Irenicus molded the lips of the mask into a faintly mocking smile. Yes, that should be about right. “Tit for tat, Coordinator Wanev.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Smell of sweat, thick with apprehension. Rasping breath. _He is…worried. Yes. Worried._

“If you wish me to tell you something, Coordinator, then for every question you ask I will ask you one in return.”

“I…what questions?”

“Is that your first question, Coordinator?”

“No! No, I didn’t mean that!” 

“Very well, Coordinator. In that case I shall not answer it. Are you ready to carry on with our conversation?”

The Coordinator nodded briskly, eyes glittering eagerly. 

“Well then, Coordinator. As my first question, I will require news of the girl captured along with me. Where she is kept, how she is coping, what she says and does. Answer me that, and I will answer you in return.” 

Wanev hesitated only a few seconds. Then he began speaking, slowly at first, but with ever increasing speed until the words almost tumbled across his lips. 

Irenicus sat motionless on the floor of his cell, hands folded in his lap, legs crossed beneath him. Listening. Memorizing. _My dear Coordinator Wanev, your wards are failing already…and the first one to fail is you._


	44. Human Nature

**Cards Reshuffled 44 – Human Nature**

_If something seems too good to be true, it very frequently is. Of course, people are usually excellent at deluding themselves and seeing only what they want to see, about themselves or others. Not surprising. After all, who would like to admit that they are a bit of a snob? Or even worse, a conceited idiot?_

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Strangely enough, it was getting hotter. Nalia fidgeted uncomfortably with the collar of her dress, trying not to squirm too obviously. Squirming certainly wasn’t the done thing. And yet…it was hard to resist. _How can it be so hot? The Keep is never like this, even in the middle of summer its walls keep the worst of the heat out._ In order to try to distract herself she surreptitiously studied her companions as they carefully made their way through the castle. 

Zaerini was walking a little to the front of Nalia, stepping lightly in a way that the sturdier human girl envied. The half-elf looked a little preoccupied, and more serious than usual, as if she was thinking about something not all that pleasant. _Should I ask what it is? Offer to help, maybe?_ But something stopped her. She had already learnt that despite her seemingly open and outgoing nature, and her wit and ready smiles, the bard kept her secrets close and did not appreciate too probing questions. Especially not about her past. _I really don’t see why it should bother her so. It’s not as if I hold it against her that she’s a commoner or anything! She certainly can’t help it if she’s lowborn. And I was trying to be encouraging when I told her that she’s very fair-spoken for a member of the lower classes! There was certainly no need to bite my head off over that, it’s not as if I had insulted her._ Still, Nalia had learnt that the other woman could be kind as well, despite her confusing bouts of hot temper. _I wonder if maybe I should ask her if she could help teach me a little about music once this is all settled? And about taking from the rich and giving to the poor, I’m sure she’s very skilled at that, and music lessons would keep Auntie Delcia from interfering._

It was a bit funny…Zaerini wasn’t that many years older than herself, Nalia was certain of that, but she felt older, in some indefinable way. Maybe it was the way those golden eyes would suddenly fix on you, hot and piercing one moment, cool and feline the next, as changing as the bard’s mercurial temper. There was something about her…something that was fascinating, but a bit frightening as well, to tell the truth, something that said it would be a bad idea to make her really angry with you. _Nonsense! What is there to be frightened of? She is only a girl like me. No…not exactly like me. She has seen so much more…I wish I could travel like that, always on the move, free as a bird, sleeping beneath the…no. Maybe not sleeping beneath an open sky, that is overrated. But roaming around fighting injustice and helping the poor…that would be wonderful! And I’m sure she wouldn’t put up with Isaea either._

Dabbing at her neck with her handkerchief, Nalia turned her eyes towards the next member of the party. Minsc was walking close by his ‘witch’, to quote the quaint word he was fond of using, explaining something to her about his pet hamster’s opinion on the sweltering heat. _Such an odd fellow…he has a good heart of course, but he is a bit…rustic. And very fond of speaking of things in terms of the violent prodding of…of the lower back. Still, he means well, and it isn’t fair to expect more of him than that._

Then there was Jaheira. The druid was currently in the front of the party, just ahead of Minsc. _A strange woman. Tethyrian nobility, I believe the priest said? No wonder she is grim…so few of them survived. But you simply cannot oppress the peasants for years and not expect them to revolt._ Nalia wondered if perhaps she should share her opinions on this with the druid, in order to help her get over her past, but perhaps this was not the best time. Also, Jaheira tended to glare at her whenever she came too close. 

Right next to Jaheira was Jan, and the odd little gnome simply defied being categorized as anything in Nalia’s mind, except perhaps ‘pure insanity’. From the set of Jaheira’s shoulders as Jan began yet another lengthy story, it seemed the half-elf might share this opinion.

Edwin walked to Nalia’s left and a little behind her, his eyes firmly fixed on Zaerini whenever he thought nobody was watching. Nalia did have some training in the art of thievery though, and that involved paying attention. It was clear as crystal that the sarcastic wizard was paying far more attention to their party leader than could be explained by professional interest. _And that’s really very romantic! Love across class borders…just like a song. He’s nobility after all, and from what I’ve heard the Red Wizards take that sort of thing very seriously._

What was also interesting was that the other young nobleman of the party seemed to be engaged in the very same pursuit. Nalia didn’t think she’d ever met any of the Delryns, though she could remember her Aunt mentioning the current Lord Delryn at some point. ‘A most uncouth brute of a man. Not our sort at all, really very common.’ When Auntie Delcia said ‘very common’ with that particular sneer in her mouth and her nose tilted into the air just so, it could be roughly translated into ‘Scum of the earth, defiler of the air he breathes and kicker of puppies’. Nalia didn’t think she really wanted to meet Lord Cor, though Anomen didn’t seem too bad a sort. Stuck up about being a noble of course, and a bit bratty, but not creepy the way Isaea was. 

“Say, Nalia?” Zaerini suddenly said. “Is this place usually this hot? It’s like a tropical jungle in here.” 

“No,” Nalia replied, shaking her head so the blue beads she had braided into it danced against her cheeks. “No, it isn’t. I can’t understand it myself.”

“Hold on a moment,” Edwin said, his accented voice sounding tense and excited. “Tropical jungle…of course! It all makes sense! (Yes, my masterful powers of deduction celebrate yet another triumph!)”

“What does?” Jaheira asked. “Speak and be done with it!” 

“I’m amazed you didn’t think of it yourself, druid,” the wizard sneered. “Can it be that you’re a bit out of touch with the natural world? Did you chew a few too many interesting-looking mushrooms and finally turn what little brain you had into slush?”

“Eddie…” Zaerini said in a voice that was calm, but somehow still carried a faint warning with it. “Just spit it out, all right? What do you mean?”

“Well,” Edwin said, puffing his chest out a little, “as you know I am an unsurpassed sage when it comes to monsters both magical and mythical. Do you remember that I told you that Yuan-Ti live in tropical climes? And that they usually have some fairly skilled spellcasters among their number? It makes perfect sense that they would try to change this environment to better resemble their regular habitat. (Now, if only they had introduced a few tigers as well, I could convince the Helmite to feed them…)” 

“So,” Zaerini said, “are you saying that we’re heading straight into…”

There was a loud and dry hissing sound in front of them, just around the corner. This was followed by an equally loud one, even more unpleasant since it came from right behind them. It was accompanied by the dry and raspy sound of scales slithering across a stone floor. “…a trap,” the bard finished. 

“Yes, as I said they are quite fond of setting traps.”

“I know you said that,” Zaerini sighed. “I just wish we could have done without the practical demonstration, is all.” 

_Meanwhile…_

Aerie smiled sweetly as she studied her prey from a distance. She had first noticed the young Lord Logum Eckel the previous morning, and by now she was certain that he was perfect for her purposes. All that remained to do was to wait for the right moment to make her move. 

The young lord Logum was currently sitting on one of the marble benches of the Government District park, surrounded by a small crowd of hangers-on of similar age and station. He was a tall and somewhat gangly young man, with pale blue eyes that bulged a bit, especially when he got excited about something. His dark brown hair was already starting to recede from his forehead, something that he attempted to hide by means of an intricate combination-system of combing and hair wax. He also had a habit of disdainfully pushing his lower lip forward, something he was under the impression made him look intellectual. It made him look like an overgrown baby in the process of making a mess in his nappies. “So,” he said, his nasally whining voice grating in the Avariel’s sensitive ears, “it should be obvious to anybody with anything even remotely resembling a trained intellect that I am correct in this. What any real woman wants is guidance, when it really comes down to it. A benevolent and intelligent lord and master, somebody who will cause her full potential to blossom, somebody who will guide and nurture her and instruct her in proper behavior. With kindness at times, with harsh words if that is what it takes. Why, a man of my intellectual capacity and far-above-average insight into human nature could take any poor waif off the street and transform her into a grand lady any of you would be proud to court.”

“Yes, so you say,” one of the other youths said, grinning at his fellows without Logum noticing, “but can you prove it?”

“Of course I can prove it! My statements are not idle; I am a man of science after all, unlike the rest of you oafs. I happen to have read a lot about what people are really like. And I will prove my skills to you. We will find a proper subject, and before the month is out, I will have molded her into exactly what I choose. As I said, I can take the lowest, most bumbling and naïve little fool possible and in one month’s time I will be able to present her at any court, as a Duchess no less.”

_Oh, this is almost too perfect to be true, Aerie thought. That young fop has less brains than a fly, and more conceit than a peacock. Exactly what I was looking for. Yes, somebody will get ‘molded’ all right…once I’m done with him, he’ll be putty in my hands. And he’ll help provide me with the perfect power base. Just you wait Logum Eckel, just you wait…_

“Well,” one of the other young nobles said, “you do talk very impressively, Logum, but girls of the kind you want don’t grow on trees, exactly. If you find a total innocent, a blank sheet to write on, she’ll be one of those girls who has led a very sheltered life, protected by her family, and they won’t be likely to let her out of their sight.” 

“Idiot! Fool! How dare you contradict me when I have set off my precious time in order to instruct you in human nature? I will prove it to you, I say, and I will find the proper girl. You will see.” 

_I believe that would be my cue_ , Aerie thought. She gathered her plain but pretty blue dress into her hands, creating the proper timid look, hastily mussed her hair up and then kicked one of her shoes under a bush. Taking a few deep breaths, she settled her face into an expression of mind-numbing shock and then rushed out from behind the tree where she had been concealed, running towards the small group of noblemen. She took special care to pretend to be so upset that she didn’t really notice them, and when she was right in front of them, she made herself stumble and fall. _He had better catch me now, or he’ll get one lash of the whip for every bruise I get. Come to think of it, he’ll get that anyway once the time comes, just because I want to._

Then she found her fall stopped, a pair of arms holding her, and she knew that she had aimed well and true. Cheeks flushed, her pink lips open in a shocked ‘O’, she looked up into the pimpled face of young Lord Logum as she lay across his lap. “Oh!” she squealed, putting her hand across her mouth and lowering her eyes shyly. “Oh…I…I am s-so sorry! I d-didn’t mean to…to…bother you. It was just…I was so…so u-upset…” She allowed her voice to trail off, and a few large tears trickled out of her big blue eyes. _Human nature, he said. Well, judging from the way his ‘human nature’ is poking my back I’d say he’s very pleased to meet me._ “I’ll…I’ll j-just go now…I’m sure I’ll…find somebody to h-help me soon.” 

She made as if to rise, deliberately shifting about a little in a way that made the young lord’s eyes bulge even more than before as well as turn distinctly glassy. They weren’t the only thing that bulged either. She could hear the other young men laughing amongst each other and smiled nervously. 

“Hold on a moment!” Lord Logum said, helping her to her feet. “Just who are you, young woman?”

“I…I am Aerie,” the elf said with a shy smile. “You…you seem very n-nice. Not like those m-mean and nasty people I met before. Maybe…maybe you will be my f-friend?”

“Why, who wouldn’t want to be the friend of such a fair young lady as yourself?” the noble replied, a smile on his face that he probably meant to be pleasant. The impression was a little spoilt by the way he licked his lips and wrung his hands though, and by the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. 

“Oh…just some b-bad people…really bad.” Aerie went on to provide the short version of her standard background story. Captured by Evil Slavers, tortured and imprisoned. Wings tragically lost. As a sacrifice for Loviatar’s favor. Poor Uncle Quayle sadly departed from this world of woes. _With a little help from yours truly._ Taken away from the circus that had been her safety and refuge by a group of adventurers whom she had thought would help and protect her, but who turned out to be as bad as the slavers. The descriptions she provided of Zaerini’s party were brief, and very unflattering. She had several of the nobles in tears. “And…and then I r-ran away,” she finished, summoning up a few more tears. “But…but I don’t know where to go! There is no p-place for me at the circus anymore…and…and I have no h-home and nobody to…to look after me with my Uncle Quayle gone. I…I thought those people would help me, but they didn’t. They…they all seemed to hate me, and…and I only ever t-tried to be kind and good to them! How…how can p-people be so cruel? Why…why would they hate me so?” _Honestly, if I really were this idiotic and simpering little idiot I would hate me too._

“Obviously, those people were simpletons, and cruel, heartless ones at that!” Lord Logum said, indignant red spots forming in his cheeks. “They didn’t have the intellectual capacity to understand a lovely, pure and innocent flower such as yourself. But never fear! I will take you under my wings…” He coughed embarrassedly. “I mean…under my protection, my precious little one, and under my tutelage you will soon become a fulfilled and gracious young woman, as fine a lady as you could ask for. You do have a hesitating and fearful speech, much like a bilious pigeon crooning, but just give me a few weeks with you and I will bring out your full potential. You will find me a harsh task master, but you will benefit greatly from my tutelage.”

Aerie smiled up at him through her tears, shyly offering him her small hands. “Oh, my lord…that…that is s-so kind of you. And…and you seem so clever as well…I so hoped I would find somebody like you.” _Yes. I do so love an idiot, but the best kind of idiot is the kind who thinks he is very highly intelligent. He will be the first of my new thralls…and he will put me in a position where I can contact those I mean to ally with. If he serves me well enough I may even allow him to die once I am done with him._

-*- 

“Everybody, get together, back to back!” Zaerini told her friends. “Don’t let them sneak up on you.” The adventurers hastily gathered together, forming a tight group that faced both ways. The redheaded half-elf felt her muscles tense with the anticipation of battle as she strained her eyes trying to penetrate the darkness. Her darkvision would be no help here, the yuan-ti were cold-blooded the same way regular snakes were, and their bodies would be the same temperature as the environment. Then she glimpsed movement in the shadows, and she focused on her magic, twining a thin strand of spider web between her fingers as she uttered words of magic. 

As she released the spell, glistening strands of web shot forth from her extended palm, landing in thick gobs on the floor further off in the corridor, spreading out until a thick spider web covered the corridor from wall to wall. Behind her she could hear Edwin casting a spell of his own, and then a tell-tale hiss. _Stinking Cloud. Good thinking, Eddie. If one of these spells doesn’t stop them, perhaps the other one will._

There was another hissing noise now, one coming from something alive, and then the Yuan-Ti charged. The warriors came first, powerful creatures with the muscular torsos and arms of a big man, and with the coiled underbodies of giant serpents. Their heads were those of snakes as well, with flat faces and forked tongues. She just had time to cast another spell, a Fireball that landed right in the middle of the first Yuan-Ti, scorching them badly. Since there was a strong stench of grilled snake coming from both ahead and behind, it seemed Edwin had also managed to take a few of the monsters out, but there were more. Plenty more. 

By now the Yuan-Ti who weren’t stuck in the web or unconscious from the Stinking Cloud were too close for any other mass damage spells to be used. The bard reached into her pocket, stroking the small and hard object she took out, and Khittix jumped out of her hand, dexterously sliding along the spider webs, spitting more webbing at the Yuan-Ti and biting them with poisoned teeth. Minsc, Jaheira and Anomen stepped ahead now, striking furiously at the Yuan-Ti warriors in order to keep them away from the spellcasters who followed up from behind with spells and missiles. There were still several serpentine warriors remaining, but their numbers had diminished, and the tide of the battle seemed to be turning. It was then that she noticed a Yuan-Ti who looked different than the ones she’d seen before. This one was female, and looked a little like a human woman, except for the green scales covering her body, the unblinking yellow eyes, the flat nose and the tiny snakes growing out of her head instead of hair. She opened her mouth, and a long, forked tongue emerged as she spoke, hissing syllables twisting through the air like snakes. 

There was a soft mist descending over her mind, and she was floating, floating and drifting. It was suddenly very difficult to see anything, except for those yellow snake eyes in front of her, but that didn’t matter. She didn’t need to see anything else, only to do what she was told. And she was calm…so calm and at peace…

A sudden icy rush hit the half-elf, something that felt like having a bucket of icy water thrown at her. She gasped and shivered, her heart racing wildly, and tried to make sense of what was going on. The Yuan-Ti were all gone, and Jaheira was standing in front of her, looking deeply concerned. The druid also had a livid bruise around her right eye, which was almost entirely swollen shut. Minsc was sitting on the ground, rubbing his head, and a very shame faced Anomen was in the process of casting a healing spell. “Jaheira?” Zaerini asked. “What happened?”

“A confusion spell, child,” the druid said. “The snake woman was trying to confuse our minds; make us all fight each other. Fortunately, I was able to break the spell before too much damage was done, though Anomen still managed to practically knock Minsc unconscious.” She smiled a little wryly. “And as for you, I see you have been practicing your right hook.” 

“I’m sorry,” Rini said, wincing. “I didn’t know what I was doing, thank the gods I was too addled to manage to use my sword at least!”

Jaheira shrugged. “Do not worry about it. No permanent harm is done.” 

“What about that Yuan-Ti mage? What happened to her?”

“I hit her with a couple of spells,” Edwin said, coming up from behind. “Unfortunately, she cast some form of illusion, and then she managed to get away. How are you feeling?”

“I’m all right. I’m just glad I didn’t do worse damage than I did.” The bard shivered. “I couldn’t bear it if I seriously hurt any of you guys. I’d rather die myself.” 

“Well,” the wizard said, smiling at her, “I am of course far too powerful for you to ever manage to do that, and will soon be even more so, once the secrets of the Nether Scroll are within my grasp. Just wait and see. (And as for these others, I could certainly do without them, though I suppose it might upset her if anything happened to them.)”

The adventurers went on, and after some time the uncomfortable heat faded away. Presumably, they had now reached a part of the castle where the Yuan-Ti didn’t go much. “We’re almost there!” Nalia exclaimed as she ran up a short staircase, taking two steps at a time. “My Aunt’s room is through this way, just follow me!” 

Nalia approached the door. She reached for the handle. Then, she was bowled over by an extremely frightened man in a guard’s uniform, who came bursting out of the room like a rabbit with its tail on fire, slamming the door shut behind him. A loud crash could be heard as something heavy hit the door. There was also something very rabbity about the man’s red-rimmed eyes, and the nervous way he kept twitching. If Xzar had been present, blood would almost certainly have been spilt. “Oh!” the guard cried out, helping Nalia to her feet. “Miss Nalia, I’m so sorry! I honestly didn’t see you there, I was in such a hurry to…to…” With that he started shaking violently, and sniffling. 

“Whu?” Nalia said, rubbing her head. “Wha’ happened? Where’s the elephant…” 

“Oaf!” Anomen cried out. “Have you no manners, man? What could possibly possess you to act like this?”

The guard was weeping openly now, big tears streaming down his face. “I…I…I’m s-sorry! I just can’t take it anymore, I had to get away, I’ve been shut in there with her for days now…Gracen was…was taken by them, and then I was all alone with her and…and…I HAVE TO GET OUT!” With that, he staggered away along the corridor, still sobbing loudly. 

“Maybe we should go after him,” Nalia hesitantly said. “Do you think he’ll be all right?”

“We don’t dare split up in here,” Rini answered her. “At least the way should be mostly clear behind us, so he’ll stand a fair chance of getting out, I’d say. But what in the world could have frightened him so?”

The young noblewoman looked at the shut door. “I think I might know…still, there’s nothing for it. Just let me do most of the talking, please? Auntie can be a little…difficult…at times.” She drew a deep breath, then pulled the door open and marched through it. 

Immediately, a penetrating female voice could be heard from within the room. “Oh, 'tis like a nightmare! Yet more hooligans tracking their filth through the halls. We shall have to vacation for a tenday while the whole building is deloused.”

“Auntie, please!” Nalia’s voice said. “We have come to rescue you!” 

“Nalia?” The sharp voice sounded incredulous now. “You look an absolute fright, girl! Where have you been? And who is this ‘we’ of whom you are speaking? I do hope you haven’t brought any dirty peasants into our home, just think about what happened to your mother…”

“Actually,” Rini said as she stepped through the door, “you’d be better off worrying about the dirty trolls in this place. Any mud we’ve managed to drag in with our filthy peasant feet won’t make that much of a difference anymore.” 

The bedroom was fairly large, and dominated by an enormous four-poster bed, curtains drawn. There was a big armoire, a few uncomfortable looking chairs, and a table. And in the middle of the floor a very imposing woman stood. Lady Delcia was tall for one thing, taller than some men, and rake thin. Her gray hair was carefully arranged, not a stray strand escaping from a complicated trap of pins, and she had a jutting and eagle-like nose. Her eyes were a piercing blue, and extremely haughty. “And who,” she said, “might you be? Some more of Nalia’s charity cases, I suppose? Well, I will warn you right now. I know the exact amount of silverware in this house, and I shall count it very carefully once you are all gone.” 

Zaerini met the woman glare for glare, and she clenched her teeth tightly together. _I won’t waste any time trying to talk to this hag. She’ll never respect me anyway, I can tell. Since I’m not a noble I’m less than dirt in her eyes, and anything I say will only confirm her opinions._

_Do you really care what she thinks, kitten?_ Softpaws asked. 

_No. I guess not. And that means I might as well have some fun. I’ll give her one chance…and if she doesn’t take it, it’s up to her._ “I,” she said in a level voice, “and my friends, are the people Nalia has hired to rescue you from the trolls. The way is clear, so you can see yourself out. If you’d prefer to wait for somebody you think more suitable, by all means do so. I won’t stop you. I suppose somebody might stumble across you eventually. In the meantime, I guess you could always teach the trolls table manners or something. Why, they don’t even know how to use knives or forks, they simply tear you to pieces and gobble you up raw, and if you were to put out a serviette they’d probably eat that too.”

“You know,” Jan said, “it’s a funny thing, but I’ve heard tell that trolls actually are a bit picky about their food. One of my nieces, Jenna Jansen, she got captured by trolls once, and the beasts would likely have eaten her if they hadn’t managed to get themselves a noblewoman at the same time. This lady had quite unjustly accused my niece of stealing, just because of a slight misunderstanding about the turnip patch on the castle grounds, and threatened to have her flogged, just when the trolls attacked. Well, the trolls decided to eat her first, since she’d likely be juicier and more tender, being noble and all. Now, Jenna was a skilled cook, so she kept the trolls discussing various recipes all night, right until the sun rose.”

“And then the trolls turned to stone?” Nalia asked. 

“No, no. Then they finally settled on doing the mixed grill with turnip flambé. It was just that trolls really aren’t used to more advanced cooking than banging a rock on the meat in order to soften it up, so they accidentally set their aprons on fire and burned to death.”

“So, the noblewoman was rescued then?”

“Not exactly…see, the trolls had already stuck a turnip down her throat, for the flambé. But hey, at least she didn’t get eaten!”

Lady Delcia’s facial expression could best be described as petrified. “You low-born little…” 

“He may possibly be close to the ground,” Edwin said, stepping forward with an ominous expression on his face. “But she is not, nor is she a peasant. You will not refer to her as such again, you dotty old crone, or it will be my pleasure to demonstrate just what certain Thayvian nobles do when their servants offend. (Something that leaves no marks, except in the memory.) My lineage can be traced back over a millennium, while I would be surprised if yours reaches back further than to the nearest pigsty, and the Odesseiron holdings would swallow this little flyspeck of a castle up without noticing it. So do not provoke me, wench, or you will suffer the consequences of your insolence.” Insufferable was sitting on his shoulder, and the little monkey stuck its tongue out at Lady Delcia, blowing her a raspberry. 

For a few seconds Lady Delcia simply stared at the wizard. Then her expression shifted subtly. “Nalia?” she said. “Is this true?”

“What?” the white-faced young woman asked. 

“What this gentleman says about his background of course, you silly girl!”

“Oh,” Nalia said, giving Edwin a puzzled look. “I…suppose so.” 

“Well then,” Lady Delcia said, favoring the wizard with a rather ghastly smile that was nevertheless clearly meant to be pleasant. “I dare say I’ve always thought that a gentleman should be able to make a firm statement. Watch and learn, Nalia, you really are too much of a milksop for your own good. Try to use this fine young man as a role model, my dear, you will be much the better for it.” She nodded courteously at Edwin, then swept out the door with a disdainful look at the rest of the party. “I will speak with you later once you’ve effected Lord De’Arnise’s rescue from those disgusting trolls. They have taken him down to the dungeons to…”

“Cellars, Auntie!” Nalia hissed. 

“Nonsense! Call things by their proper name, girl! Dungeons they are, and it is a pity we don’t use them more often these days, the peasants certainly wouldn’t be so uppity if we did. That is where your father is. The trolls are trying to make him reveal the location of the family fortune – as if he would ever betray his honor like that, like…like some commoner. Do try to hurry up, this place wants cleaning…” 

Once the elderly woman had departed, the party looked at each other in silence for a few moments. “A role model?” Jaheira finally said. “Did I just hear somebody recommending Edwin as a role model? Now I really have heard it all…”


	45. The Lord is dead, long live the Lady

**Cards Reshuffled 45 – The Lord is dead, long live the Lady**

_As hard as it can be to imagine it when grief is crushing you, sometimes it will make you stronger, drawing out new qualities that otherwise would have remained dormant. Not that that is much comfort at the particular time._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

The troll was the largest one that Zaerini had ever seen, about twice the size of the ones previously encountered, and it was accompanied by three others, almost as big. There was a nasty glint in its eyes as it eyed her hungrily, and its tusks looked big enough to bite her in half with one bite. She hadn’t found any corpses of the Keep’s fallen defenders, and she had a nasty suspicion that she knew what had become of them. To make things even worse, there was a small group of Yuan-Ti present as well, one of them being the mage that had got away before. Swallowing heavily, the bard wondered if maybe she had got in over her head this time. 

Apart from the formidable Lady Delcia, the adventurers had encountered only one survivor. His name was Glaicus, and he was one of the Keep guards, and a powerful warrior. Unfortunately, he had also been under the influence of a powerful spell of domination, and had attacked them on sight, raving about his ‘new master’. It had been possible to break the enchantment, but not before he had managed to inflict several wounds on the warriors of the group. Once freed he had been very apologetic and explained some of what had caused the fall of the Keep De’Arnise. Apparently, many guards had deserted, bribed to leave, though he did not know by whom. With the fighting forces diminished, the Keep had soon fallen, and of those who hadn’t managed to flee, far too many had become troll food. Glaicus knew that the leader of the trolls was named TorGal, but it wasn’t a troll who had charmed him. The Yuan-Ti matriarch had seen to that. 

“Who commands them?” Anomen had asked. “The trolls or the serpent folk?”

“Neither,” Glaicus had said, looking frustrated. “They are both give orders by somebody else…I overheard as much while I was under their influence. But I do not know who it is. The trolls used the name ‘Stronger’.” 

He had given them one more of the heads to the magical flail, which he had hidden on his person before falling victim to the charm spell, and then departed. It had been clear that he was ashamed of not staying to fight, but there was despair and fear in his eyes when he spoke of the trolls, as if he had been at least partially broken by his experiences. At least he had been able to tell them where the third flail head was hidden. Unfortunately, his shock made him neglect to mention the guardian golems keeping watch over the thing and its fellow treasures. That little battle had cost Minsc a few broken ribs and internal bleeding, Anomen a severe concussion and Nalia a shattered knee. The battle had been won in the end, mostly due to the fact that the largest of the golems was too big to fit through the door of the room and kept blocking the way of the smaller ones, but it had been a very close call that had more or less depleted their healing spells. 

_And then we had to go and run into the Umber Hulks. Honestly, what’s next? Mindflayers? Drow warriors? Fire giants?_ Minsc had turned out to know a bit about smithing, enough to work the Keep’s magical forge at any rate, and so the magical Flail had been reforged, a magnificent weapon that did fire, acid and cold damage with its three respective heads. At least two of those should prove useful against trolls, and it had been decided that Anomen should be the one to carry the weapon. The cleric wasn’t an expert, but he had at least practiced with various weapons during his squire training, and he was strong enough to wield the heavy weapon properly. Rini had dared to hope that things would start to look up a bit. And then, there had been the Umber Hulks. 

These beasts lurked down in the dungeons, or the ‘cellars’ as Nalia insisted on calling them. _Subterranean creatures, Eddie called them. Well, I don’t think a regular old cellar qualifies. Shouldn’t they be in the Underdark or something? When I get hold of the person responsible for collecting this exotic menagerie together in one piece, I’ll…I’ll…feed him to a Night Mare. If I can find one. Oh, and what other fascinating bits of information were there? Favorite food: humans. Why am I not surprised?_

The Umber Hulks were lumbering big black things, thick-necked and bulky, each one with four tiny black eyes that made your mind wander astray if you looked into them for too long. Edwin had managed to hold them for a minute or so by his quick casting of a Cloud Kill into the room where they laired, and then slamming the door. Unfortunately, then the Umber Hulks simply dug through the wall. Still, it had slowed them down a little, and that was probably the only reason why the adventurers had survived the battle. By now they were all bruised and bloody though. _We should have waited. I can see that now. It was just that Nalia was so worried about her father…especially once we found those cells._

The cells had probably been used by Nalia’s ancestors once upon a time, to hold those of their loyal subjects who weren’t loyal enough. There had been other things as well, things that made the half-elf’s blood run cold. Spiky iron things, irons that could be heated, pincers, even a rack. It had reminded her of…him. Irenicus. As her eyes roamed over the terrible things she could feel the pain again, the cold and the hot, the biting, the tearing, the lashes and… _No! Don’t think about it! Don’t…don’t even think about it. I don’t want to remember any more. No more…_

It would have been nice to be able to pretend that the things in the dungeons were all old relics, long forgotten. However, the blood splattered all over them said differently. Too much blood to come from a single person. Most probably some of the people captured had been kept alive for a while, with the trolls trying to get information out of them. _Why didn’t they just use charm spells, like on Glaicus? Maybe…maybe they enjoyed this way better. Irenicus…I don’t think he was enjoying himself much. That was what made it even worse…_

She had forced herself to go on somehow, aware of the worried glances coming her way. Especially Edwin and Jaheira seemed to hover at her side constantly, being the ones who knew the most of what she had been through previously. She tried to keep it hidden, as much as possible, both for her own sake and theirs, but she wasn’t sure how long she could keep the pretense up. And Nalia…the poor girl had been crying ever since she saw the state the dungeons were in, yet somehow, she went on, proving herself to be braver than you might first think. She meant to have her father rescued, and she meant to do it now. _I understand how she feels. How could I not? Gorion…I would have done anything to save him. Anything. But still, we may have rushed in too quickly._

And as the large troll named TorGal opened his mouth to speak, Zaerini sincerely hoped that the eagerness wouldn’t prove to be a fatal one. 

Meanwhile a trio of mismatched travelers were approaching Keep De’Arnise from the west. Montaron certainly hadn’t been sad to leave Athkatla behind for the moment. Being dead hadn’t exactly been the most pleasant experience of his life…so to speak. He wasn’t eager to repeat it, and both he and Xzar knew that the Harpers would be out for blood once they learned of their agent’s death and of the escape of the two Zhentarim. Well, at least Montaron presumed that Xzar knew, though the wizard had put it as: ‘The servants of the Rutting Goat with the Thousand Young will scream and gibber as the souls wail over apples long rotted and the worms sing in their piping voices of secrets best left unknown.’ 

Abduh had said ‘Urrrrghhh’. Probably that was an affirmation. 

No, Montaron didn’t like to think about being dead at all. He was still having stop himself from checking that he was still breathing, and he kept remembering how it had felt to depart the body. It had been especially nasty to learn that the soul didn’t depart the body at once but lingered for a while. And since the Harpers had seen fit to stuff him into a locked trunk, his soul had spent a miserably time in there, with only himself for company, and not very pleasant company either. The fact that his companion kept pestering him about it didn’t make things better. 

“But Monty,” Xzar was saying, “can’t you tell me a little bit about it? I really want to know what it was like; it would help so much with my experiments.”

“Ye want to know what it was like? How about I stick a knife or two in yer belly, and ye can find out for yerself?”

The mad wizard simply giggled; his tattooed face scrunched up with delight. “Oh Monty, you make the funniest jokes! You know you couldn’t possibly kill me. Why, if you did, the world as we know it would cease to exist! If not for the chants I do every morning, we would all be…two dimensional. Flat as pancakes. And if we were, then They would be able to get to us.”

“They?” Montaron asked, against his better judgment. 

“Yesss…They. They lurk outside the fabric of time and space, beyond the very border of our multiverse. They see everything you do; you know! EVERYTHING! And they play with us…terrible, terrible games.” 

Montaron jumped a little and couldn’t help looking over his shoulder in case some terrible entity was sneaking up on him. “Huh,” he snorted. “Next ye’ll say They were the ones plotting to have me killed.” 

“They were! They were! They rule everybody, you know. The Harpers too, and you and me, even poor little Abduh.” Xzar lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “They decide every moment of our lives…they just…POINT AT US AND OFF WE GO, PAWNS OF THEIR TERRIBLE POWERS! Aaaahhhh! STOP TOUCHING ME! The magic…the terrible magic of the rodent and the square box!” 

“Will ye stop it? Nobody’s touching ye!”

“Actually,” Xzar said, suddenly sounding frighteningly calm, “they tend to war among themselves, each Power rearranging Reality according to their wishes. Why, in some worlds we could be dead already. And some of the females are quite pleasant about the clicking…” 

Montaron felt like either screaming or weeping at this point, not an uncommon occurrence with Xzar. “What?” he flatly asked. 

Xzar blinked, then looked confused. “Did you say something, Monty?”

“Ye mentioned females,” Montaron said between clenched teeth. 

“Did I? No, no, I’m sure I would have remembered that.” Xzar shook his head. “Poor Monty,” he said, patting the halfling on the head. “I think death unsettled you a little. There are no females here, are there, Abduh?”

“Urrrrrghhhh,” the zombie answered forlornly. 

“Yes, Abduh. I’m sure they’d love you if they only got to know you better.” Xzar shrugged. “No, no females around I’m certain, more’s the pity.”

Montaron sighed. “So, where to now?”

“Oh, wherever the wind takes us, far from all Harpers for now. I thought we’d stop at this castle that’s said to be not too far from here. Should be a good place to rest a day or so.” Xzar’s eyes suddenly lit up disturbingly. “And maybe they have some nice dungeons…and corpses…”

“Yeah, but a castle? They won’t put us up, will they?”

“Of course they will, Monty!” Xzar stretched proudly. “You know I come from an old family, a very old family. Why, practically all of my cousins were cousins, and my parents were my cousins too.”

“Yeah? Well, me…me ma could skin a body in under five minutes! And I’m practically sure I know who me da was. One out of three, at least.” 

“That’s good!” Xzar said, beaming. “In the nobility, the more relatives you have, the better. And mine breed like…like…” A cloud passed over his face. “Like RABBITS! AAAAAHHHHH!” He hitched up his robe over his knees and ran off into a nearby field, shrieking wildly. 

“Urrrghhh?” Abduh asked.

“No, he’ll come back,” Montaron automatically replied. “Just don’t let him get to any sharp objects.” Then he sighed deeply as he realized what he was doing. _I’m talking to the zombie. I’m actually talking to the zombie, and worse, I can understand what he’s saying. The wizard is contagious, I knew it! Hope we get to this castle soon before I go totally insane. I need some rest…a nice, quiet place, with no mad wizards around._

-*-

Within the dungeons of Keep De’Arnise, a large troll raised his head, nostrils widening as he sniffed the air, making loud snorting noises. “Weak grrthunks!” he said in a gravelly voice. “Me smell you! You stupid to come here! TorGal kill you all, make you food for Rocksmash pack!”

The other trolls guffawed at this. “Ha! They all stupid!” one said. 

“And they ugly too!” 

“We kill them all, stupid grrrthunks!” 

“Yeah! We kill them all cause they stupid!” 

“And ugly!”

“Yeah! Ugly! Us beat them easy!” 

Zaerini exchanged a quick look with Edwin who simply shrugged and quietly mouthed ‘typical trolls’ to her. Then her attention was forced to turn elsewhere as Nalia pushed past her, her face flushed with anger. “We've come to get you out of my home, monster!” she cried out. “You will leave this place or die here!”

The troll’s eyes narrowed. “You live this place? Then thrrgle you die! That was deal, and you die for sure! Rocksmash pack keep deal for Stronger!”

“Stronger?” Rini cut in. “Who is Stronger?” 

For a moment it seemed the troll was about to answer, but then the Yuan-Ti mage interrupted. “Silence!” she hissed, her forked tongue flickering with annoyance. “We do not ssspeak of that one, you know that. Now sssstrike them down, asss you did the human lord!”

TorGal roared with pleasure, beating himself on his chest with his massive fists. “WE KILL! KILL NOW!” Then he charged, the other trolls hot on his heels, and the Yuan-Ti started casting a spell. The snake warriors raised their weapons as well, rapidly slithering towards the party. 

_Uh Oh. This is not good, there are too many of them. If only we could split them up somehow, or maybe…_ Then the half-elf suddenly had an idea, and as she raised her voice it was in the hissing voice of the Yuan-Ti. “Sssstupid ugly trollsss! Sssstronger should kill you too for your incompetence! We are the true rulerssss here, you lot are no more than arrow-fodder!” 

“What?” TorGal growled at the Yuan-Ti. “What you say, puny one?” 

The mage broke off in her casting, taking a step back. “It wasssn’t me! It wasss her…” Then she screamed as an enormous fist landed on her head, cracking her skull open with a sickening crunch. “Nobody call TorGal stupid!” Torgal pronounced with a triumphant grin. “Me very smart, grrradn…Stronger give lots gold and stuff!” 

Enraged by their matriarch’s death, the remaining Yuan-Ti attacked the trolls head on, doing their best to cut them to pieces. One of them threw a few sticks on the ground, sticks that immediately transformed into wriggling serpents, and the others struck with sword and fang. 

It was then, in the middle of the confusion, that the adventurers attacked. Jaheira raised her arms, chanting a spell, her voice taking on a low and hypnotic quality that almost matched the voices of the Yuan-Ti. The snakes turned towards her, mesmerized, and then they fell upon their former masters, lunging and biting. The Yuan-Ti didn’t seem much affected by the poison, but it still hurt and impeded them. The druid immediately followed up with another spell, and at her command thick and strangling vines shot up from the cracks between the ancient dungeon flagstones, grasping for troll ankles, seeking Yuan-Ti necks. 

“Die, Snakes of Evil!” Minsc challenged, entering the fray. “Minsc and Boo will prove to you the Terrible Fury of Small Rodents, and as Boo dances you will wish he was a mongoose.” With that, he proceeded to sever limbs and heads with his normal gusto, but still careful to keep as close by Zaerini as possible so he could protect his witch. Jaheira had joined the melee as well, though her staff was doing less damage than the ranger’s sword. Her skin had turned an eerie dull gray, her body protected by a ‘skin’ of magical iron, and it had spared her a couple of blows but would not last forever. Anomen, too, had used his powers to protect himself, drawing upon his God’s favor to temporarily enhance his strength, and the newly reassembled Flail of Ages was being kept very busy. Sometimes, the blows he landed would severely affect the victim, magically slowing them to a near crawl that made them easier to hit again. He was already wounded himself though, and his own movements weren’t exactly lightning quick either. 

Meanwhile, the spellcasters were doing their best to hurt those Yuan-Ti still stuck in Jaheria’s vines, as well as to be prepared to dispose of any trolls that were hurt seriously enough to be permanently killed. Rini was clear out of useful spells, and had reverted to her bow, though it wasn’t doing as much damage as she would have wished. Suddenly she felt something yanking hard at her leg, and almost fell. It was a severed troll arm, and it was still alive and wriggling. As she furiously tried to scrape it off, one of the snakes attacked the arm, engaging it in a violent wrestling match, and once it was distracted Jan was able to finish it off with an Acid Arrow. 

The battle went on, and Zaerini kept firing her arrows, unaware of anything else but the targets. Her skin felt on fire, the heat of the fight was upon her and she wanted to laugh and scream at the same time. _Control…must keep…in control…_ It had only lasted for a few minutes, but already the screams and moans of dying Yuan-Ti were filling the air, and thick green troll blood was coating the floor, making it dangerously slippery. Jaheira was down on one leg, a terrible blow from TorGal having knocked the wind out of her, and Minsc was standing over the druid, trying to keep her safe. The troll leader towered above them and opened his mouth in a triumphant laugh as he prepared to strike again. And then a look of extreme surprise spread across his face, as a brightly burning arrow sped across the room, striking him clear in his open maw, ramming itself down his throat. He clawed at himself, mad with pain, and as he did so he left himself wide open. The Flail of Ages came up heavily, taking half his face apart, and the acid from it hissed as it ate into the open wounds. TorGal gave a single whimper, and then he died, with an exhausted Anomen standing over him, striking again and again to make certain he wouldn’t rise again. 

_Thank the gods_ , Rini thought as she fought to slow her breathing. It was over, finally over, with all the enemies dead. _And we are all still alive. If just barely._ Then her breath suddenly caught in her throat as she realized that she had been mistaken. Not everybody was alive, not everybody who mattered. There was a body lying on the other side of the room, beneath the sheltering arms of a large statue of a winged entity, some kind of deva perhaps. The statue’s face was sad as it looked down upon the corpse, a middle-aged man who seemed to have been strong and good looking. Now though, his eyes stared at the silent guardian above him without seeing, and they would never see anything else ever again. Not even the anguished face of his only child and heir as she ran to his side. Nor would he hear her cries of his name, nor feel her hot tears as they fell upon his cold skin. For Lord De’Arnise was dead, and nothing Lady Nalia De’Arnise could say or do would bring him back. 

Nalia was weeping, clutching her father’s dead body closely to her, her shoulders shaking violently. Rini felt as if her feet had frozen, fusing her to the ground. She felt only partially present, while another part of her was far away in space and time, watching another girl crying over her father’s corpse. 

_There was the scent of pines and earth in the air, not of damp dungeons. The air was clear and high…it felt so unreal. But the blood was the same, all that blood. It had seeped into the ground, blackening it. So much blood. Once upon a time I didn’t know how much blood there is in a person. So much blood. Oh Gorion…I couldn’t do anything._

She had moved over towards Nalia without really being aware of what she was doing. The human girl raised her tear-streaked face, and it felt almost like looking into a mirror. The face wasn’t her own, but the anguish she knew all too well. Wordlessly she simply went to her knees next to the other woman, holding her arms out, and Nalia collapsed into her embrace, weeping as if her heart was about to burst. “I tried,” she sobbed. “I tried so hard…as hard as I could…but I failed him.” 

“You did everything you could,” the half-elf said, trying to keep her voice steady. _Gorion…he died because of me._ “But sometimes…sometimes we do the best we can, and it…it simply isn’t enough. It’s not your fault.” She looked up, but kept rubbing Nalia’s back, trying to calm the noblewoman. “Anomen…Jaheira…can you…do anything?”

The two healers had been examining Lord De’Arnise’s body, and now their solemn faces told her everything she needed to know. “I am sorry, my lady,” Anomen said. “And you of course, Lady Nalia. Such a miracle is yet beyond me.” 

Jaheira’s green eyes were steady, yet sad. “It cannot be done, child,” she said. “For a soul to be brought back, there must still be a small glimmer left, the tiniest connection of spirit to body, and some souls linger longer than others. Here, I can sense nothing remaining. He is gone. I am sorry.” 

“I tried,” Nalia cried again. “I tried…but nobody would help me, and the time kept passing, and…and…oh Father…” 

“I know how it hurts,” Rini said, feeling a few tears in her own eyes now. “I’m so very sorry, Nalia. Maybe if we had come a little sooner…”

“No,” Nalia said, shaking her head. “It’s not your fault. At least…at least the Keep is free now, and that…that beast TorGal is dead.” Her voice was hot with fury now. “And when I find out who put him up to this, I will have vengeance.” 

Zaerini didn’t say anything, but simply tried her best to keep comforting the other woman in her grief. She knew that words wouldn’t do much good right now. _Yet another murder_ , she suddenly thought, remembering her latest Reading. She had been told that she carried murder with her, that it would affect all who came close to her, in one way or another. _Minsc and Jaheira. Now Nalia. Please, oh please, don’t let this happen to any of the others._ “Maybe you will,” she said. “I hope so. But take care of yourself before you do anything else.” 

Nalia swallowed heavily. “You are correct,” she said. “I must…I must compose myself. I must be a good example to the servants…those of them…those of them still alive. They will need me to be strong, to take care of matters. It is what Father would have expected too. And the funeral must be arranged. Would you stay here a little while, as guests? I…could do with some company right now.” 

Rini hesitated a moment. “We need to rest before moving on,” she finally said. “But I have a rescue of my own to deal with, so we can’t take too long. Still, a day or so before we get back on the road is exactly what we need right now, I think. Will you be all right then, though?”

“I…think so. Auntie Delcia will help.” Nalia bit her lip briefly. “Though there is a man who…but no. I cannot speak of it at the moment. It will have to wait. Everything else…will simply have to wait.” She looked at her father’s body and sobbed again. 

“Come,” Jaheira said, helping the distraught young woman to her feet. “We will lay him out properly, and you will have time to say your farewells, as it should be. But for now, you need to get out of here.”

Nalia nodded a little vaguely. “Yes…yes, you’re right I suppose.” She turned to look at the others before Jaheira led her out. “Would you take my father to the crypt? I don’t want to think of him lying in this place.” 

“Minsc will help,” Minsc said, picking the dead man up gently, holding him in his enormous arms as if he weighed no more than a child. “Minsc is sorry for little Nalia, and little Boo is crying sad little hamster tears.”

“Aye,” Anomen said, nodding. “’Tis a foul deed that has been done here, Lady Nalia. My deepest condolences for your loss.” 

“Concentrate on developing your magic beyond its current pathetic levels,” Edwin advised. “That will not only help you think of other things but will also better enable you to eventually destroy the person responsible. (At least she had a proper father, not some…buffoon.)” 

“That could work,” Jan agreed, “but some of Ma Jansen’s turnip pie wouldn’t be amiss either. I think I might recall the recipe, it’s just the sort of thing to perk you up.” 

Nalia managed to smile a little at that. “Thank you, all,” she said, straightening her back. “I will see you later, once I’ve had a chance to rest a little.” As she walked out, she seemed just a little bit taller than before, her steps a little firmer. It seemed that now that she was the Lady of the Keep, she meant to be a good one.


	46. Nether Spell #1

**Cards Reshuffled 46 – Nether Spell #1**

_It’s really terrible when somebody you care about does something you know is most likely a very bad idea, and you aren’t able to stop them. And it’s even more terrible when despite prior experiences they insist on leaping before looking. Sometimes it may only cause a minor mess, but sometimes it will cause the equivalent of accidentally insulting your mother-in-law’s interior decorating. Major disaster, that is. As I should know._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Zaerini was having trouble sleeping that night. Dark thoughts kept intruding on her, thoughts fueled by her memories of her latest Reading. _Child of Murder…will bring murder and death upon all you touch, without even trying. No…no…I won’t have that! I won’t! It wasn’t me who killed Nalia’s father…it wasn’t me who killed Khalid and Dynaheir!_

She tossed and turned, trying to fall asleep, but in vain. Then she suddenly heard a quiet moan coming from the other bed of the room. It seemed Jaheira’s sleep was uneasy too. The druid turned over in her sleep, golden-brown hair looking almost black in the faint moonlight drifting in through the windows, tangled with sweat. Her eyes were closed, but there was a frown of distress on her face. “No…” she murmured. “No…” 

For a few moments the bard hesitated, but then Jaheira spoke in her sleep again. Or rather, she screamed, a terrible sound of a soul in anguish. “Aaaaaaghhh! No! Khalid! NOOOO!” She was sitting straight up in bed now, struggling to get free of her bedclothes, and her eyes were wide and confused, almost mad. Rini ran over to her without thinking, putting her arms around the older woman. 

“Jaheira? Jaheira, wake up! It was only a dream!” 

For a few moments the druid simply stared blankly at her, and then recognition finally crept into the green eyes. “Child…what…”

“You were having a nightmare. A really bad one, from the sound of it.” Zaerini cleared her throat a little embarrassedly. “Wanna talk about it? I know that often helps when I have nightmares…”

Jaheira hesitated a few seconds, but then she nodded. “I…suppose that might be a good idea. I dreamt of…of Khalid. I thought he was here, with me. That he was _with_ me. You understand?”

“Oh! Yeah…I see.”

“And then something changed. I reached out to touch him, and his skin was cold. I moved to…to kiss him, and his face was…was…” Jaheira broke off, looking away for a few seconds, and when she spoke again her voice was deeply strained. “He was as he was when we…found him in Irenicus’ dungeon. And I knew…I suddenly knew that he had been dead all along. I think I screamed then, and I could hear my own voice, but it sounded like his voice. Irenicus’ voice, laughing at me, at my grief.” 

Rini chewed on a strand of her hair, deep in thought. “I don’t think he ever did that,” she said. “He never seemed to take pleasure in all the awful things he did…that made him even scarier. I have no idea why he did what he did…but he was no Mae’Var, I know that much.” 

“It makes no difference,” Jaheira said, sounding flinty. She was hugging herself tightly, as if to comfort herself, but her face was determined. “Whatever his reasons, whatever his purpose, he will die.”

“I hope so…but I still wanna find out why. Should be easier to find him if we understand him better…and I think it would feel better too. Not knowing why somehow makes it all worse. And I think…” The bard suddenly broke off. She had heard something…a tiny noise as of some small animal running across the floor. Then there was a hiss, a black streak across the floor, and a thump. 

_Got him!_ Softpaws triumphantly said. 

_Got what?_

Then there was a second mental voice intruding on Rini’s thoughts, one that sounded very peeved. _Hey, kitty! Leggo!_

The half-elf only had time to groan silently to herself before her familiar leapt onto Jaheira’s bed, carrying a tiny fluffy monkey by the scruff of its neck. _He was trying to sneak in here_ , the cat said. _Can I eat him? Just a little bit?_

_No, you can’t! Give him here!_

The cat looked rather reluctant, but she finally spat out Insufferable, who landed on Zaerini’s lap, staring up at her with a fascinated expression on his small and wrinkled face. _Woooo! Nice view!_

It took the half-elf a few seconds to process this, and then she realized that she was wearing nothing but her shift. A very thin one, since the weather was hot, and one that clung to her body in lots of interesting places. So was Jaheira, for that matter. _Insufferable? What are you doing here? There’s…there’s nothing wrong with Eddie, is there?_

_Huh?_ The monkey sounded rather distracted, and kept staring at her, grinning widely. _Whuzzat?_

_I said, there’s nothing wrong with Eddie, is there?_

_Nooo…he’s fine…he says to ask…um…could you bend forward just a little bit more?_

_What?_

_I mean, the boss said to fetch you right now! It’s very important!_

_What is?_

The monkey shrugged, using all four legs to do so. _Oh, it’s something he wants to show you, I think. He’s too excited to be very clear about it. Hold on a moment, he’s saying something…he says you don’t have to bother to get dressed._

_WHAT?_

_Ooops…I wasn’t supposed to repeat that, it seems. OK, major embarrassment, just forget you heard that. Oh darn, now he’s swearing at me for having a big mouth. Huh, talk about the pot calling the kettle black, right?_

_Hang on…he’s talking to you…is he watching this as well? Through the familiar link?_

_Er…_

_Thank you._ Zaerini got off the bed, then pulled her own sheet about her with great dignity, or as much dignity as she could muster considering that she was certain the monkey was staring at her from behind. 

_Ooops…now he’s cursing me even worse. Ouch._

_Yeah, well, tough luck. If he wants to spy on me, he can damn well do it with his own eyes._

Softpaws snorted a little at this. _Hypocrite._

_No, I’m not! I never asked you to peep in on him, you did that on your own._

“Child?” Jaheira said, looking puzzled. “What are you doing?”

“Oh…Eddie wants to see me about something important, apparently.” 

The druid gave a short bark of laughter. “I am sure he does. In that case, I will be coming with you.”

Rini shrugged, and then she smiled naughtily. “All right, if you want to. But you probably want to get dressed first. Right now, actually. I think Insufferable is more interested in me, but you do know that Eddie can see everything he does, don’t you?”

Jaheria’s face froze in mid-motion, and then she very slowly and deliberately picked her tunic up and threw it over the monkey sitting on her bed. “Well,” she said. “I hope he enjoys watching dirty laundry.” 

_Hey, you’re not mad at me, are you?_ Insufferable asked. _You can’t be mad at me, I’m far too cute and fluffy for that…_

Once the two half-elves reached the room that Edwin shared with Jan, they found the door unlocked, and as they pulled it open, they stopped dead, staring in surprise at the sight that met them. The furniture had all been pulled back along the walls, and Edwin was on his hands and knees in the middle of the floor, drawing a highly intricate and complex circle and pentagram on the floor with red chalk. Rini wondered if it would be possible to wash it out when he was done, and whether he had asked Nalia’s permission first. _No, this is Edwin. Of course he hasn’t._

Edwin was muttering quietly to himself as he drew a long series of runes outside the circle, reciting something from memory. As he noticed the two women he started guiltily and dropped the chalk. 

“Hi Eddie,” Zaerini said in a bland voice, shaking out Jaheira’s tunic. “I think you were looking for this, weren’t you?” Insufferable dropped onto the floor, winked at the bard and then scampered up his master’s arm to climb on top of the wizard’s head, holding onto his dark hair. 

“Ah…” Edwin said. “I…thought it would be more polite to send him to fetch you, less intrusive and…that is…(Curses! Why does this have to be so difficult? And why did that blasted druid have to come along?)”

“Less intrusive,” Jaheira said, raising her eyebrow. “What an interesting choice of words.” 

“You know…” Rini said, making her eyes go a little distant, “some nights I sleep in the nude.” Then she laughed out loud as the wizard coughed violently, going quite red in the face. “Oh Eddie. Did you really fall for that one?” 

“Of course not! And I have no idea what you are talking about! (I wonder if she might be telling the truth though?)”

“So, what was it you wanted to show me? And where’s Jan?”

“Right here!” said Jan’s voice from under one of the beds. “And you should be in here too, once Red gets going, he’s likely to blow himself up and take you all with him. Just like my Uncle Bertram when he experimented with Expanding Turnip Pills. Just one small pill and it’d keep you from hunger all day. Unfortunately, he overdosed, and ate the equivalent of ten tons of turnips at once. Bits of him could be found as far away as Tethyr, and I hear his boot landed on a small island in the ocean, where it came to be worshipped as a god by a tribe of miniature podiatrists. It’s a sad thing when your footwear gets more famous than you do, isn’t it?”

“Silence, ignorant fool!” Edwin haughtily stated. “You speak of what you would not understand if you studied the Art for a hundred years.” 

“Say, Red? When you blow up, can I have your scroll case? It’s a really nice one.”

“No! And I will not blow up!” The annoyed wizard turned towards Zaerini. “I have done it!” he said, his eyes gleaming with feverish excitement, and his cheeks flushed. “I have deciphered a key part of the Nether Scroll, and I know exactly what it will do! (Well, more or less, but it should suffice. Yes. I am sure it will. A genius is capable of improvising if necessary.)

“So…what does it do?”

“Aha!” Edwin said, taking her arm and magnanimously guiding her further into the room, gesturing for her to sit on the couch by the window. Jaheira followed, smirking a little. “I will explain. It is not unlike the transformation of mage to lich…but it is more…much more!” 

“LICH?” Rini almost screamed, leaping to her feet and grasping the wizard by the collar of his robe, glaring into his face. “You want to turn yourself into a lich? A rotting, undead corpse? ARE YOU TOTALLY INSANE?” 

“Do you want me to answer that?” Jaheira murmured. 

“Not a lich,” Edwin reassured the livid bard, gently taking hold of her hands to disentangle himself. He didn’t let go of them afterwards either. “That wouldn’t be nearly as powerful enough. (And I don’t think she would be very attracted to one either. Not to mention that important bits might drop off at a crucial moment…) No, but it will give me one of the powers of a lich, real immortality! Eternal youth, just wait and see!” 

“I don’t know,” Zaerini said. She had great faith in Edwin’s capabilities as a mage, but this worried her badly. “I don’t like it. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Oh yes! Just a few minor kinks to work out, but I have it well in hand.” 

“Maybe…but it’s dangerous to use spells if you don’t know exactly what they do, you know that!”

Edwin simply grinned at her, looking extremely boyish. “My, now you sound exactly like…er…never mind. Do not worry, Hellkitten. I have it all figured out, as you will soon see. Now, you just sit down over there, and prepare to be amazed by the awesome cosmic powers of Edwin Odesseiron and his Nether Scroll!” 

Having hesitated for a few seconds, Zaerini finally sat down next to Jaheira on the designated couch. _There’s no arguing with him when he’s in this mood. And I don’t see how I could stop him, short of knocking him unconscious, and he’d never forgive me for that. I just hope he knows what he’s doing…_

The spell was a long and complicated one, and Edwin recited it with a look of intense concentration on his face, totally absorbed in what he was doing. Rini kept watching, anxiously chewing on her nails, her heart in her mouth. Finally, there was a bright light as the wizard’s voice rose in volume, and then a large cloud of purple smoke rose from the pentagram he was standing in, enveloping him totally. Total silence followed, ominous silence. Silence that made her able to hear every beat of her heart, as she anxiously got off the couch, trying to wave the smoke again. “Eddie? Are you in there?”

There was a cough from within the smoke, but it sounded…odd somehow. Not quite like the wizard’s normal voice. 

“Edwin?” Zaerini repeated. “Are you all right?” Then the smoke cleared. Her eyes fell upon the wizard standing within the pentagram, she could feel her mouth dropping open, and as if from a distance she could hear her own voice uttering a half-strangled scream. 

-*-

Something was wrong. Something was very much, and very horribly wrong. At first Edwin didn’t realize exactly what it was. The spell had worked; he had felt the magic rushing through him, subtly altering his body on the way. But…why did he suddenly seem to be shorter than normal by at least five inches? The spell wasn’t supposed to do that! He coughed in the smoke surrounding him, trying to wave it away. _My voice! What happened to my voice?_

Finally, the smoke cleared, and he saw Zaerini staring at him, her golden eyes almost as wide as teacups. Then she made a horrified sound that was something between a scream and a choke. By now feeling very worried, Edwin raised his hands in order to show her that he was all right. Then he froze. _My hands! What happened to my hands?_ His hands were still fairly slim, with long fingers, but they looked…smaller than before. More delicate. And they were almost engulfed by the sleeves of his robe, which by the way was feeling very awkward all of a sudden. Loose in some places, tight in others, particularly across the…chest…

Edwin looked down. Then he felt horror tightening his throat like an iron band, hardly allowing him to draw breath at all. _How…how did those get there? No! This can’t be! It’s some sort of horrible nightmare! Mirror…I need a mirror, right now!_

There was a full-length mirror hanging on the wall, one with a highly ornate gilded wooden frame, decorated with giggling cherubs and bunches of grapes and bananas. Edwin had of course fallen completely in love with it the moment he saw it, it was what had made him pick this room out in the first place, out of the ones the trolls hadn’t destroyed. Now he staggered over towards the mirror, a process made difficult by the fact that his legs were shorter than he was used to, and that his elbows seemed to work differently. Not to mention that the…the things…felt as if they were about to make him topple forward at any given moment. He stood before the mirror for a few seconds, his eyes closed, hoping that the nightmare would go away on its own. Then he opened them. Then he stared into the mirror, feeling utter despair descend upon him like a wet, warm blanket. 

There could be no mistaking the fact that the creature staring despondently back at him from the mirror was all woman. She had dark brown hair and eyes, close to black, and the hair was long and thick, reaching all the way to the small of her back. A thick fringe partially obscured her worriedly furrowed eyebrows, and the full red lips were trembling visibly. Her face was the snowy white of severe shock. The golden chain connecting her nosering to her earring only served to bring out the smoothness of her skin, and the ruby amulet at her throat dangled tantalizingly close to her cleavage. And what a cleavage it was…the mage robe Edwin had been wearing had actually torn a little under the sudden strain in the upper levels, proudly displaying pale flesh here and there. From what else could be seen, the woman’s hips were similarly curvy. No wonder it had been difficult to walk. 

Edwin tentatively touched the mirror image and winced as the woman in the mirror did the same. It was useless to try to deny it any longer. He was no longer a he. Hold on a moment…that means I no longer have…no! Nooooooo! “This is bad,” she said, her voice trembling just a little bit, and now she could clearly hear what she had missed before, the voice was altogether feminine. 

Zaerini was coming up behind her now, and it was extremely odd to realize that the half-elf was much closer to her in height now. “Edwin?” the bard said, putting her hand gently on the wizard’s shoulder. “Edwin, can you fix this?” 

_Of course! Of course! It must be possible to dispel this hideous curse somehow! Quickly, before…_

“Wow!” Jan said, crawling out from under the bed. “Getting in touch with your feminine side, Red?”

_Before that infernal gnome notices me. Arrrgh! As if the indignity wasn’t great enough!_ “No, I’m not,” the transformed wizard snapped. “This is a temporary inconvenience, merely a setback, nothing more. I will soon have it sorted out, just you wait and see.” 

“You’re entirely sure you want to do that? Why, that brings my Uncle Magnus Jansen to mind, and that time when he accidentally turned himself into an ornamental fishpond. Nothing we tried would turn him back, but at least he had always liked carps, and he did provide the family with food far better than he had previously, so we think he’s quite happy by now. Well, unless you clog his drain of course.”

“I may not be a fishpond,” Edwin snarled, “but I have no intention of staying like this, fish or no fish. (And the first person who tries to ‘clog my drain’ will find themselves missing the greater part of their chest cavity.)” She tried to cross her arms across her chest, a task that proved surprisingly difficult considering the newly increased radius of said chest. 

Jaheira was laughing openly by now. “Why Edwin,” she said, “You look as though you chafe within your very skin. Oh, wait. That is because you _are_ chafing within your very skin. How thoughtless of me to remind you.”

Edwin felt her mouth opening and closing a few times. She normally would be able to come up with an insult to fit every conceivable situation, but the shock, horror and humiliation was still weighing heavily on her mind. “I will not suffer your taunts, woman!” she spat out. “I despise this form, and you know it fully well!” 

The druid’s eyes were practically sparkling with mirth by now. “That I do, pretty, pretty Edwin. That I do.” 

“All right,” Zaerini said, putting her arm about the wizard’s shoulder and holding her tightly. Not even the sensation of fiery red hair brushing Edwin’s neck was enough to create more than a brief and highly confusing stirring sensation though. “That’s enough. Edwin? Is there anything in the Scroll about undoing the spell? Or do you have any other spell you could try?” Her gentle smile made that odd feeling increase in intensity. “Jaheira is right in that you do look pretty, but I would much prefer the regular brand Edwin. I’ve got used to him.” 

Sometime later, Edwin was getting gradually more and more desperate. She had tried every spell she could think of, but nothing worked. She had tried to find a counter spell in the Nether Scroll – again nothing. Right now, she was reading through it for the tenth time, eyes aching in the search for something, anything that might help. _And that is the only reason they’re aching! The only one!_

“Edwin, you need a break,” Zaerini finally said. The bard sounded almost as exhausted as Edwin felt. Her face was pale, and her shoulders slumped tiredly. _My fault. She needed her sleep, it was I who dragged her here in order to witness my triumph. Some triumph._

“No!” The wizard’s voice was a passionate cry of denial. “I can do this! There must be a way! There has to be something!”

“You’re in shock, and you’re exhausted. I can see you shaking from here. If you go on like this, you’re likely to hurt yourself even worse.” The half-elf firmly guided Edwin to the bed, then sat down next to her. “Jan…Jaheira…leave us alone, would you? I need to talk to Edwin privately.” 

“But what about my bed?” Jan asked. “Where do I sleep?”

“With Jaheira?” Zaerini shook her head as she saw the expression on Jaheira’s face. “No, I guess not. Tell you what, Nalia said earlier that the bedroom next to mine and Jaheira’s was in good order. We only shared because we wanted the company. You can take that room.” 

Edwin sat on the bed, staring dazedly at her own hands. _So small…_ She was only vaguely aware of the voices surrounding her. Her hair, suddenly far longer than before, was hanging forward, obscuring her face like a dark curtain.

“Are you sure about this, child? Will you be all right?”

“Yes, I will. But _she_ won’t be, not alone. You’re sure there’s nothing you can do?”

“No,” the druid said. “I have got enough of a sense of her now. There is nothing to get hold of, it is a curse that changes everything about the person, down to the tiniest bits. It cannot be simply dispelled. I do not know if it can be dispelled at all.” 

Deep sigh. “I see…thanks anyway. I know you tried your best. I’ll talk to you in the morning…” 

Footsteps across the floor. She was kneeling by the bed now; her scent was sweet, a little spicy. Edwin could feel a hand on her knee, and another one was pushing the hair away from her face. She tried to avoid the…other woman’s…gaze, feeling too ashamed and humiliated to look at her. Still, there the hand was again, cupping her chin, gently tilting her face upwards. She tried to keep her face under control but could feel her resolve crumbling as a pair of large and golden eyes looked into hers, filled with a combination of love, compassion, and worry. “Oh Eddie…” Zaerini sighed. “What a mess, eh? But we’ll make it all right, I promise. Somehow, we’ll get you back to normal.”

“Of course,” Edwin said, trying to sound confident. “I am an extremely powerful wizard after all, it shouldn’t take me too long to dispel some minor curse like this one.” Then she happened to look down at herself again. _Maybe not so minor after all._

“Of course it won’t,” Zaerini said. She had moved onto the bed now, and was still stroking the wizard’s hair, much like you might soothe a skittish animal. “And I’ll help in any way I can, you know that.”

“You will?” That hand felt very nice. Edwin allowed herself to lean just a little closer to the half-elf, close enough to feel the heat of another body against her own. It felt…odd. Her own body was curved where it should have been angular, soft where it should have been hard. Still pleasant though, no question of that. 

“Yes, I will.” The bard smiled briefly. “But not until tomorrow. You’re exhausted, you need some sleep. So do I, for that matter. So, I’m staying right here to make certain you’re all right. Or as much ‘all right’ as you can be, under the circumstances.”

“I am not some helpless infant! I can take care of myself!” 

“Normally, yeah, sure. But suppose the curse does something else to you? Suppose it makes you throw yourself out the window or something? No, like I said I’ll stay here.” The redhead suddenly noticed something on the floor. “Oh, and it looks like somebody else will as well!”

Edwin couldn’t help smiling a little as a tiny fluffy monkey was deposited in her palm. 

_Don’t worry, boss!_ Insufferable said. _The pretty cat lady is right; you’ll get back to normal somehow. I’ll help too! And in the meantime, you’ll be sharing a room with her!_

_I suppose so…but it isn’t quite the way I had envisioned it._

_But it’s a start anyway! Say, if you get the chance, try to show her your genitals, that’s how monkeys show they’re interested._

_I can’t do that!_

_Why not?_

_It may have escaped your tiny and perverted brain, but humans are not monkeys. If I were to do that, I could get arrested. Some more subtlety is in order. Besides she’d most likely punch my teeth out. Not to mention that my equipment is currently of the wrong kind._

_Oh. Didn’t think of that. Well, enjoy your sleep then, boss. I’m right with ya._

_Thank you. I think._

“What did he say?” Zaerini asked. 

Edwin could feel a slow blush creeping up her throat and into her cheeks, as well as across her…bosom. “Er…he…he offered to help. And made some…suggestions.” 

“Oh. That’s sweet of him.” 

“Yes…er…very. Very...sweet. Now, you mentioned sleep…” 

Five minutes later Edwin found herself in bed, minus her shoes and robe. Fortunately, she still had her shirt and undergarments on, though they didn’t fit very well. Only an hour ago, she would have been only too happy to tear them off in the company of the half-elf, but now she felt reluctant. _I don’t want her to see me like this. Not like this._

If the bard noticed this, she didn’t comment. She was only wearing a shirt and a pair of loose pants herself, and Edwin noticed that despite the simplicity of the garments they showed off her body in a very flattering way. And then the other woman was sliding into bed, and there was a slim body next to her, hot and highly appealing, and soft hair tickling her nose. She wanted to reach out, but she was in the wrong body, with several important bits missing, and it didn’t feel right. _I want her…I want her so badly. But in my own body. She deserves no less._ “I don’t…” she started to say, meaning to ask the half-elf to leave, but then there were a pair of arms holding her tightly, and she suddenly knew she didn’t want to be alone at all. No, not at all. 

Edwin drew a deep and shuddering breath, burying her face against an attractively rounded shoulder, and there was the excitement, but most of all there was comfort. Arms holding her tightly, rocking her, a hand tangling in her hair once again, stroking it. 

“Sssshhh…it’ll be fine. It will be. I promise.” 

Edwin sighed, finally drifting off into an uneasy slumber. She just barely had time for a final conscious thought. _It’s the strain. That is why my eyes hurt…the strain and the stress. But with her, everything feels better. Even this._


	47. Who’s That Girl?

**Cards Reshuffled 47 – Who’s That Girl?**

_In adversity you tend to learn a great deal, whether from your own reactions or those of other people. Not that it outweighs the actual hardships, but it can at least be a small compensation._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Zaerini awoke by a beam of sunlight tickling her nose, making her want to sneeze, and still only half conscious she batted at it with her hand, trying to make it go away. For a few moments she felt confused, uncertain about where she was. Of course, this was pretty much regular for an adventurer, what with sleeping in so many different places, and she knew she’d soon work it all out. A few seconds later she noticed that she wasn’t alone in bed. There was somebody crushing her right arm, more or less paralyzing it, and there was an arm draped about her waist, holding her close. She lay absolutely still for a few moments, hardly daring to hope. _Edwin? Did we somehow…_ Then she opened her eyes and turned her head towards the other person, and the memories suddenly came crashing home. _Oh…now I remember._

Edwin was still definitely in female form. She was deeply asleep, snoring a little, and Rini took the opportunity to get a closer look at her. If she looked hard enough, she could recognize traces of the wizard’s male features, but feminized, as if he had been turned into his own female twin. _I suppose he has if you think about it. Still a lovely eyeful though._ It was certainly so. She’d always found Edwin a very attractive man, and he was no less attractive as a woman. The wizard had a face that was seductive rather than pretty, with firm features, long eyelashes, full red lips and a rather bold nose. Long dark hair was spread out across the pillow, thick and lustrous, and her fingers itched with the need to play with it. What she could see of the body hidden by the sheets was equally appealing, lush and ripe. It was odd…she knew that full elves fairly frequently had same gender relationships, more often than humans, and as a half-elf she supposed she might be similarly inclined. But she’d never really taken that kind of interest in women before, so this came as a bit of a surprise. _Or maybe…it doesn’t matter all that much if it’s a man or a woman. Not as long as it’s still Eddie. I suppose that makes a lot of sense, really._

Finally, she couldn’t resist any longer. She carefully reached out her hand, capturing a strand of dark hair between her fingers, playing with it. Edwin stirred a little in her sleep, and after a few moments her eyes opened, looking somehow larger in her female face. _Still his eyes though. Those beautiful eyes…_ “Hey…” Rini gently said. “How’re you feeling?”

“What?” Edwin said, sounding utterly disorientated. “What are you…why are we…?” Then realization slowly dawned, and her face fell. “Oh…now I remember. It wasn’t a nightmare, was it? (At least the ‘bed’ part of it is nice…but the horror still remains.)” 

“Afraid not. Think maybe we should get up? Not that I exactly want to…but we should go on looking for a cure for you.” 

“Yes, of course. Not that I’m not perfectly capable of finding one myself, but the shorter time I have to stay in this miserable shape, the better.” Edwin hesitated a moment. “Perhaps just a moment longer though?” 

Rini noticed that the other woman’s arm was still encircling her waist, and that was entirely to her satisfaction. “Sure,” she said, snuggling just a little closer. “Whatever you want.” _And I wouldn’t mind more either…but I think I’d better not bring that up. She’d be spooked, I think, what with everything else._

The two women lay in silence for a while, enjoying each other’s presence, as the sun rose a little higher in the sky, causing a widening patch of golden light to spread across the dark blue bedroom carpet. Tiny motes of dust danced in the air beneath the high ceiling, whirling like pixies. _I could stay here forever, I think_ , Rini thought. _Forever with him…or her…sounds just about right to me. Just the two of us, with nothing to interfere. Just us._

Finally, though, she could no longer put off a question that needed to be ask. “Um…Eddie? Maybe Jaheira has told the others already about what happened, I don’t know. But if she hasn’t, would you like me to do so before you go down? Prepare them a little?”

Edwin suddenly stiffened. “Go down? Like this? I can’t do that!” Her voice sounded utterly desperate. “I’ll be a laughingstock!” 

“But you have to. You’ll need to eat sometime.” 

“I can eat in here. (Not that I feel exactly up to it.)”

“But we may need to do more magical research, go through Nalia’s library…”

“So, bring it here!” 

“And if that doesn’t work, we should take you to a temple.” 

“You can bring a priest! (But not that Helmite, if he sees me like this he’ll laugh hard enough to make his stupid armor explode.)” 

“Edwin,” Rini said, getting into a sitting position and briefly touching the other woman’s cheek. It was odd to notice how soft it felt. “You can’t stay in here forever, you know that. And maybe they _will_ laugh, I don’t know. And then you’ll just pull out your best insults, the really blistering ones, and I’ll cheer you every step of the way.” She grinned mischievously as she suddenly thought of something. “Say…it might be fun to turn things around a little bit. If we are to meet other people, you’ll need an alias anyway, so as to avoid awkward questions. Isn’t that so…Edwina?”

The look on the wizard’s face was a mixture of indignation and shock, but then the corners of her mouth twitched upwards a little. “Edwina? What kind of hideously cumbersome and tasteless name is that? A woman of my stature needs something far more magnificent and impressive.” 

“Oh, all right. How about ‘Edwinella’? Or ‘Edwinette’? ‘Edwinara’? ‘Edwinora’?” 

Rini suddenly shrieked with laughter as a pillow hit her smack in the face, bowling her over in bed, and she was swift to retaliate, giving her companion as good as she got. The battle fortunes came and went, but the human woman was still taller and stronger, and after a while the still laughing half-elf found herself pinned on her back, with the wizard half sitting, half lying on top of her. Both of them had so many feathers in their hair that they looked like they had been outside in a snowstorm for hours, and they were pretty flushed from the battle. 

Edwin leant forwards, close enough that they were practically touching noses, and there was a very intense gleam in her dark eyes as she whispered into the half-elf’s lightly pointed ear. “No ‘Edwinette’. Not unless you want some kind of humorous curse of your own to suddenly afflict you. (Something to make all her clothes transparent…I like that!) We’ll make it ‘Edwina’ if it is necessary in order not to confuse all the glacially slow minds of the hopelessly thick simians downstairs.” 

“All right, all right!” Rini said, still grinning widely. “It’s a deal. Sorry about laughing. You know I was only teasing you a little, I meant no harm.” 

The wizard’s face suddenly turned very serious. “When it’s you…” she slowly said. “When it’s you…it is different. Completely different. You…can laugh at me any time you want to. Any time.” She opened her mouth as if to say something else, and as she moved a little further forward, their breasts accidentally pressed against each other through their clothes, making them both gasp with surprise. 

_Oh gods! Hot…so hot!_ Rini was suddenly finding it extremely difficult to think, as twin lances of fires seemed to be rushing from the points of contact and directly into her brain, disconnecting her higher brain functions from the primary lust centers, leaving her with just a few very basic concepts. _Mine! Mine! Want more! MINE!_

From the way Edwina’s eyes widened and her breathing halted, she was experiencing something very similar, and she was blushing a deep red. “I…er…I…” Suddenly she scrambled out of bed, looking extremely embarrassed as she started frantically searching for her damaged mage robe. 

_Damn. We had better get her back to normal as soon as possible. This way, if she doesn’t go insane with frustration, I certainly will._ Sighing, she rose to get dressed. 

_Meanwhile, in Athkatla…_

“No, no, no, no, NO!” Lord Logum Eckel admonished, waving his finger in the air. “Say it again.” 

Aerie cleared her throat. “Th-the Sun in M-murann will tan an even b-b-bun.” 

“No, not like that, you foolish girl! Not a b-b-bun! A bun! A bun! Go on, say it again!” 

Aerie gritted her teeth. She was standing in the middle of an elegant sitting room, one of many in Lord Logum’s Athkatla Mansion, and she had long since come to the conclusion that her standard tactics needed to be modified a little for this particular slave. While he was taken in by tears and sweetness, he also had a deeply ingrained need to feel superior to all around him, and the best way to make him happy was to make him think that he was the one instructing her to be a ‘proper lady’ and ‘making her more secure’. So, she would put up with the condescending remarks and tedious lengthy lessons on her ‘true nature’…for now. _And when I’m done with him I will come up with some amusing way to dispose of him. Perhaps cutting his tongue out and stuffing it down his throat would be good. Talking himself to death, so to speak._ “The Sun in M-murann will t-tan an even…an even b-bun.” It wouldn’t do to ‘learn’ confidence too quickly either, that might make the man suspicious, foolish though he was. 

“No! Good heavens, NO!” Lord Logum threw his hands into the air and started pacing back and forth across the carpet. His lower lip was pouting disdainfully, and his waxed hair was sticking out wildly. “Wretched creature, can’t you see it? You condemn yourself every time you open your mouth, in the eyes of those shallow people who cannot see beneath your milksop façade and to the beautiful soul within! Stop mewing like a timid mule, take a deep breath, straighten your back…yes, like that…now try the other exercise!” 

Aerie folded her hands primly together, straightened her back, gave him a look of pure innocence, and spoke again. “In S-s-sundabar, M-mirabar and…and…and K-kuldahar, the…the b-bar is under par…” 

“Arrrgh!” Lord Logum’s eyes were rolling wildly by now. “No! No! Confidence, I told you! Confidence! Do better or make yourself useful. I’m certain I have some laundry that needs taking care of somewhere…” 

Aerie made her lips tremble violently, and her eyes fill with tears. “I…I’m trying! I c-can’t help it! I thought…I thought you wanted to help me!” 

“Of course I do, you stupid girl! And I’m doing it by giving you exactly what you need – some much-needed backbone.” The lord gave her that disturbing smile again, the one that made a thin string of drool form in the corner of his mouth. “I’ll give you exactly what you need, just you wait. And if I’m perhaps a little harsh, it’s only meant to benefit you. And you will be a good girl and try again, won’t you?”

“I…I suppose so.” _And I’ll give you exactly what you need too. A few heated needles rammed into your…_

It was at this moment that the butler stepped inside, announcing a guest, one Sir Felix Twittering, who happened to be a friend of Lord Logum’s. Sir Felix turned out to be a tall young man, with flowing long golden locks, elaborately curled and perfumed, and a pretty face. 

“My darling girl!” Sir Felix gushed after having been introduced to Aerie. “I had heard of you, but never did I guess that the truth would be so lovely. Eckel is a lucky man to have the pleasure of your company. Oh…and your hair is so pretty…are those curls natural?”

“Y-y-yes,” Aerie said, smiling timidly up at her new victim. _Unlike yours. Hm…a spell of baldness should torture him sufficiently before he dies. First I’ll make good use of him though._

“Hmpf,” Lord Logum said. “She is pretty enough, but she is a cold-blooded murderer…”

_WHAT?_

“…of the Common Tongue,” Lord Logum went on, blissfully unaware of Aerie’s startlement. 

_Phew._

“Ah, but she is so sweet and pretty!” Sir Felix went on. “So utterly feminine! So unlike those harsh, coarse women you see everywhere these days, and so delightfully naïve! My fair lady, is there anything I can do for you?”

“Why yes!” Aerie said, fluttering her eyelashes. “In fact there is…there were these mean and…and n-n-nasty people I was traveling with…and…and they hurt my p-poor feelings very badly!”

“Say no more, my lady, say no more! A true Twittering always defends the pretty and fair-spoken against the coarse and the ugly! I’ll fetch you their heads in no time!”

“Oh! That…that is v-very brave of you…but…but perhaps not yet? I’m…I’m a very c-compassionate p-p-person you know, I’d like to…to talk to them first. But if you could find them for me…?”

“Certainly, fair lady!” Sir Felix bowed deeply, golden curls sweeping the carpet. “And…I am off!” He dashed out the door, or he would have done if he hadn’t run straight into the doorpost. “Ow…” he muttered as he staggered out the door. “By poor dose…dow I wod’t look as pretty…” 

“Enough with the prattle,” Lord Logum irritably said once Sir Felix had left. “We need to go on with the lesson at once.” 

“Y-yes…of course…” _And just wait until I’m done with you, and have the leisure time to teach you a thing or two. A barbed whip tends to make people very eloquent and outspoken. I’ll have you screaming out those ridiculous ‘exercises’ of yours._

-*-

Minsc didn’t understand. This wasn’t unusual, and it usually didn’t bother him greatly. The world was a complicated place, with complicated people doing complicated things. Minsc wasn’t a complicated person, and so he tended to be perfectly happy most of the time, and unlikely to worry about the strange and complicated things that the complicated people worried about. Besides, Boo would handle the complicated things and point him in the proper direction for kicking Evil butt, or his Witch would. But in this case, he felt he ought to try his best to understand, since it was clearly a matter of great importance to his Witch. She had tried to sound calm as she explained it all, but he could tell that she was nervous. 

“May Minsc and Boo ask a question?” he said, raising his hand. 

“Of course,” Zaerini said, raking a hand through her red hair. “What is it?” She was smiling at him, which was good, but she looked tired too, which was not good. Boo suggested that he should make sure she got more sleep, which sounded like a good plan. The Evil Wizard mustn’t be allowed to keep her up all night with whatever it was Evil Wizards did when they were not sleeping or plotting Evil Plots. Then Minsc realized that his Witch was still waiting for an answer, so he cleared his throat, concentrating carefully to make sure he got everything just right. 

“Boo does not understand. It is not as though the scoundrel will be missed, but where has Edwin gone and who is this woman that wears his clothes?”

The woman in question didn’t seem particularly pleased about this innocent question. She was a fairly tall dark-haired woman, quite handsome too, and she had had a permanent baleful scowl on her face since she’d first come downstairs, one that could compete even with Jaheira’s worst. She was wearing red mage robes, but they weren’t very well fitting, they were torn in places, and she kept unconsciously tugging at them. Right now, she was leaning against the wall in Keep De’Arnise’s audience room, her arms crossed across her impressive chest, and as she looked at Minsc her eyes were practically spurting fire. “I will not be scrutinized for the sake of your rodent!” she snarled. “Mind your own concerns, you stone-headed oaf!”

Minsc wasn’t particularly upset by this. Dynaheir had often lost her temper with him when he brought up the subject of Boo, and perhaps this lady was the same. He carefully held the little hamster up in the palm of his hand so that Boo would be able to see the lady properly, and then he nodded. Boo made good sense, as usual. The lady was magical, and even if she wasn’t a real _Wychlaran_ , she had a temper to rival the fiercest Rashemani warriors. Also, Boo suggested that maybe she was shy meeting all these new people and could be angry because of that. Scared people sometimes got angry, Boo said, so he should be nice and friendly. “Such a temperament!” he said, smiling cheerfully. “Fire in her belly and not afraid to spit in an eye! It reminds me of the fighting women of my homeland! Ah sweet lady, you bring me tears.”

For some reason, the lady didn’t seem to appreciate this, though Minsc did notice that Anomen, Jaheira and Jan all looked very amused for some reason. Her breathing became even more strained than before, causing the torn red robes to also become very dangerously strained, and her fingers curled in a claw-like fashion. “Tears indeed! Stand away lest I bring you a fireball as well! (Such suffering I must endure! The pain behind my eyes does grow steadily!)”

Then Minsc noticed his Witch putting a hand on the strange woman’s arm and whispering something at her, and after a few moments the dark lady nodded silently, calming herself, though she still kept glaring at Minsc. 

“See…” Zaerini said, looking at Minsc. “This _is_ Edwin. He had this unfortunate magical accident, and now he’s stuck like this until we can change him back.” She coughed briefly. “Oh…and in public we’ll refer to him as Edwina for the moment. So that people won’t ask too many questions, see.” 

Minsc took another good long look at the dark lady. He wasn’t entirely certain how such a thing could have come to pass, but if his Witch said this was Edwin, then it had to be so. Witches often did strange things for reasons of their own, so he supposed Evil Wizards might be the same. “Minsc will do so,” he said. “Does the wizard have to change back though? Minsc thinks he looks far prettier this way, and Boo likes him better too.” 

Anomen seemed to find the whole exchange very funny. The cleric had laughed out loud when he first spotted the transformed wizard and had kept chortling ever since. Right now, the hilarity of the situation was clearly becoming too much for him. “Hay, Edwina!” he said, offering the woman an exaggerated bow. “I shall be your champion at the next tournament that we come to if only you give me a piece of your robe, uh, that is, dress to adorn my shield.”

Jan grinned widely at this, saying something about how the thing was in pieces anyway, and even Jaheira had an amused smile on her face. Edwina, however, was less than amused, and she looked about ready to try to claw Anomen’s eyes out with her bare hands. “(My condition draws fools like flies to honey). Silence, you idiot!” she hissed. “You've a death wish that is larger than your swollen head.”

Anomen’s face took on an expression of mock despair, and he theatrically clutched his forehead, actually going down on his knees on the floor in front of the livid wizard. “Fair Edwina, I am truly bereft by your non-acceptance. It is tragic when a knight has no fair maiden to moon over. Heh he he...”

This little display made Edwina go quite red in the face with frustrated anger and humiliation, and for once it seemed that she was at a loss for words. 

Minsc was feeling a little uncomfortable by now, though he had a hard time explaining why to himself. From the way that his Witch was looking at Anomen, he could tell that she was very cross with him, and her yellow eyes were narrowing dangerously. Boo quickly told him that it was a bit like the look Minsc himself would get before he went Very Angry. He thought that his Witch would probably be sorry afterwards if she chopped Anomen into little bits, and he didn’t want his Witch to feel bad, so he felt he should do something about it. And there was another feeling too, and even if it was very hard to put it in words, he still thought he should try, with Boo’s help. 

Smiling amiably, Minsc walked over to give Edwina an encouraging pat on the back. At the last moment he changed his mind though and switched to what he considered a gentle hug. After all, the Evil Wizard was now an Evil Girl Wizard, so it felt more proper this way. The gentle hug left the surprised Edwina wheezing and gasping for air. “Boo says that you should not mind people laughing,” he solemnly said. “People laugh at Minsc all the time, so Minsc is used to it and hardly ever breaks people’s heads over it. Also, Boo tells me not to mind, since Boo won’t ever laugh at me, and as long as Minsc still has Boo and his Witch, it doesn’t really matter if other people laugh.” He held Boo up in his palm, and the hamster gave Edwina an eager squeak. “See? Boo says that you are just the same as Minsc in this, except you have a clever little monkey rather than a courageous hamster.” 

The Evil Girl Wizard just kept staring at Minsc, looking extremely baffled, and her mouth kept opening and closing soundlessly. Zaerini gave Minsc a grateful smile though, and then reached up to give the ranger a kiss on the cheek. It felt very nice. “That was a _very_ sweet thing to say, Minsc,” she said, “and I’m sure that Edwina will be very grateful too. Won’t you, Edwina?”

“What?” the wizard said in a startled voice. She was still looking at Minsc in a way that made him worry that maybe he hadn’t shaved his head properly this morning, but he felt relieved when Boo told him that he looked very smart. “I…er…maybe I…that is…(This has to be my imagination acting up on me. I couldn’t possibly have heard that, could I?) Yes…well…maybe the barbarian isn’t quite the imbecile that I had previously taken him for.” 

“Good,” Zaerini said. “I’m glad to see the two of you making friends.” Then she sniffed briefly. “As for the rest of you, Edwina and I will be checking out Nalia’s library to see if we can de-curse her that way. Just in case you care.” She stuck her arm under the wizard’s and marched away, not looking back. 

Edwina shot one final, very thoughtful look at Minsc, and then smirked triumphantly at Anomen across her shoulder. “You did get one thing right, you asinine illustration of the perils of interbreeding between siblings. You should be bereft, and you don’t have anybody to ‘moon over’, or anybody remotely interested in you. Well, not unless you count the immense attraction your stinking body has on all manner of flies and lice.” Then she haughtily swept out of the room by the half-elf’s side, the effect only spoiled a little bit by the fact that she almost tripped over her too-long robe. 

After Minsc was certain that the Evil Girl Wizard was in no immediate need of more Cuddly Hamster Comfort, he went and busied himself with taking care of his gear for a while. Then he spent a couple of hours wandering about the Keep, saying hello to the servants and soldiers who were even now returning. Despite her grief, Nalia had been very busy all day, and she had let the adventurers know that she would need a few hours to take care of important things, but that she would like to speak with them afterwards. Minsc particularly liked playing with the four large dogs that he found in the courtyard. At first, they got a little bit excited about Boo, but they calmed down soon enough once the big ranger petted them and fed them, and then there was a very funny game of stick-fetching. The sun was already starting to sink in the west when Zaerini and Edwina appeared again, walking across the courtyard. Both looked quite tired, and a bit down. 

“Hello, little Rini!” Minsc happily shouted. “Would you and the Evil Girl Wizard like to come and play with Rex, Sparky, Rover and Spot? They are quite nice doggies, though Minsc thinks they are a little bit afraid of Boo.”

“Thanks, Minsc,” Zaerini said, smiling. “I’d like to do that, but we’re both rather exhausted right now. I’m afraid we’ve had no luck so far.” 

“We will, though,” Edwina hastily said. “A Great Wizard of my caliber will not be daunted for long, and I certainly don’t plan to let this annoying condition become a lasting one.” 

“Of course not,” Zaerini said. “But just until we fix you up, I think we should buy you some new clothes, ones that fit a little better and are a little less…drafty.”

Edwina frowned, but eventually she nodded, tugging a little at her torn robe. “Yes, that is quite right. I am of course magnificently skilled with needle and thread, but I do need some more whole material than this to work with. Something impressively red of course…and gold thread. There must be plenty of gold thread, and some sequins…maybe gems…”

“Give me a break!” Zaerini said, nudging the wizard in the side. “Nalia will pay us for helping her out, but most of it has to go towards Immy’s rescue and buying essentials.” 

Edwina’s eyes were very large and dark as she gave the bard an innocent look. “But gold thread _is_ essential!” 

“Eddie…”

“Just a little bit of gold thread? A few pounds, maybe?” 

Minsc decided to say what he thought. “Minsc likes sparkly things,” he said, “and the Evil Girl Wizard would look pretty in it, but little Imoen must come first of course.”

Edwina sighed deeply, throwing her hands into the air. “Nobody around here knows the least bit about high fashion, except for me of course. Really, I ought to give you lot instructions, if only in order for you not to completely embarrass me when we eventually start moving in a little bit more exalted circles than trolls. (Well, in her case she could wear anything of course, and she would still be stunning, just like me. Anything, or even better nothing. Only not in public.)”

Zaerini grinned at this, shaking her head. “Glad to see you’re feeling a little better. I was getting worried. Anyway, let’s go see Nalia. That note she sent to the library sounded pretty urgent, so I guess we’d better see what she wants. We’ll do the shopping when we go back to Athkatla.” Still chuckling, she headed into the Keep. Minsc was just about to follow when he felt a finger poking his arm, and he turned to see the Evil Girl Wizard watching him, looking very awkward. 

“Ah…” Edwina said, fidgeting a little. “I just thought about things and…do let me know if you would like somebody in particular gruesomely and disfiguringly cursed. (Particularly if it’s that goat-fornicating and freakishly dense Helmite.)” 

Minsc thought about this for a moment, listening intently to Boo’s assessment of the situation. Then he nodded and smiled. “It is not the sort of thing of which Boo would approve…but Minsc understands what you wanted to say.”


	48. New Arrivals

**Cards Reshuffled 48 – New Arrivals**

_When arriving in a new city, there are a few things you should do as soon as possible. Learn which parts of the city are lawless, and which are heavily patrolled by guards. Learn which streets require you to be heavily armed before walking down them and which laws you are most likely to break by doing so. But first of all, try to find a place to stay that is clean enough not to give you unwanted many-legged company in bed, and that serves food which doesn’t require you to spend an entire night contemplating the contents of a bucket. Also, try to find out about any current plagues, civil wars or rampaging undead. That sort of thing is very convenient to know._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Asssassin’_

Zaerini was sitting in one of the chairs of Keep De’Arnise’s main audience chamber, legs tucked up comfortably under her in a position that would have had Lady Delcia make a few very cutting remarks about un-ladylike behavior, had she seen it. However, that worthy was busy terrorizing the servants who were in the business of cleaning the Keep up after the Troll invasion and was luckily unlikely to interfere at the moment. The bard sighed, idly fingering her deck of cards within her pocket. She had a strong feeling she should try to do another Reading in not too long, even though there were still a few issues left unresolved. _Korgan…that was Rage. And he led me to something all right, just as the Reading said. The stupid Nether Scroll. Which explains Eddie and the Death Card. I guess it was a transformation rather than actual death that was meant. I just hope we can get him back to normal soon. And the Harpers, and Ployer, that came true. But what about Nalia? She is the Page of Cups; she has to be. But there was something else…she was embracing Death. Her father is dead, but she’s alive…unless…oh gods, suppose she’s about to…to hurt herself? She was so unhappy, and no wonder. But she asked us all to come talk to her…she wouldn’t do that if she meant to kill herself, would she?_

Her vivid imagination swiftly running away with her, Rini immediately imagined a scenario where Nalia’s corpse would suddenly drop through a trapdoor in the ceiling, hanging by a rope, a suicide note pinned to her chest. _No, come on! That’s stupid! I wouldn’t ever write that into a play! On the other hand, stupid things do happen in real life. Just look at Edwina…_

At this point, the half-elf’s musings were interrupted as Nalia entered the room, through the door and still alive. There was something different about her though. The young noblewoman was dressed entirely in black mourning clothes, a well-cut but simple black dress, black gloves with the fingers cut off, even a lacy and thin black veil that rested on top of her reddish-blonde hair. She looked rather pale and tired, but if she had been crying earlier, she had dried her tears by now. And there was something else as well…not security exactly, but a new determination in her eyes. It was as if she had made her mind up about something and meant to go through with it, despite being scared. _I know that look. I saw it in the mirror more than once, after Gorion died._

“Thank you all for coming,” Nalia said after she had briefly greeted the assembled adventurers. “I am in your debt for the help you gave me. Thanks to you the Keep is liberated. My father is slain…but many others have been spared. I know you are eager to return to Athkatla for many reasons and mean to leave soon.” Here she gave Edwina a briefly amused look before continuing. “I will pay you the reward you have earned and wish you the best of luck.” Then she cleared her throat and looked a little nervous. “Before you leave though…there’s just this one tiny favor I would like to ask you.” 

“Uh-Oh, here it comes,” Jan said. The gnome was sitting on top of the long table standing next to the wall, his legs dangling over the edge as he busied himself tinkering with his already outrageously modified crossbow. “That’s just like what my old Godfather, Vito Jansen used to say sometimes. Just a teensy tiny favor, something to make the old man happy, and then before you knew it you’d find yourself robbing some homicidal wizard’s turnip cellar, or fighting a griffin that had insulted the Jansen Family honor, or maybe breaking some annoying cousin out of jail…he was a good old fella actually, but he mumbled a lot. It was the death of him, in the end.”

“I’m probably going to regret asking this,” Nalia said, looking weary, “but how could mumbling possibly have killed him?”

“Well, he wanted one of his sons, young Boffo Jansen, to stuff a rotting old pony head into the bed of a rival named Broca, one who’d been undercutting the turnip market. Only, he told Boffo to ‘Take care of Broca’s pony’s head,” but he mumbled so badly that poor Boffo thought he said ‘Make sure Poppa’s made stone dead.” And Boffo, being a dutiful son, obeyed. Snuck up on Vito when he was having a nice and quiet walk buying tomatoes…”

“Not turnips?”

“Whatever for? He _grew_ turnips, he didn’t have to buy them. Anyway, old Vito Jansen was talking a nice walk, buying tomatoes, when up comes his own son Boffo and hits him over the head with a stuffed flamingo. Died instantly, he did, which goes to show how important it is to speak clearly and above all to the point, don’t you all agree?” The gnome gave all his companions an innocent grin as he said the last. 

“Right,” Nalia said after a few seconds silence. “About what I wanted to ask you…there is a little bit of a problem with my inheriting the Keep. You see, ages ago my father arranged my betrothal to a young brat of a nobleman named Isaea Roenal.” She made a disgusted grimace. “The Roenals are a powerful family, with a large military force, or my father never would have agreed. They epitomize everything I hate about nobles; everybody is seen as beneath them and they care not at all for those in their service. Father had meant to stall the marriage for as long as he could, hoping we would find a way to get me out of it altogether, but now…” 

“This Isaea will attempt to force you into marrying him?” Jaheira asked. 

Nalia nodded. “I’m sure he will. And the worst thing is that as my betrothed, he may attempt to wrest control of the Keep from me. Theoretically daughters may inherit the same as sons, but when it really comes down to it, the law tends to favor the man. I need to get around Isaea somehow.” 

Rini had been listening to this, and she thought she saw what Nalia was getting at. “Are you saying you want to arrange a marriage of convenience?” she asked. “With…one of us?” _She’s a noble, even if she tries to pretend otherwise. She’ll want another noble…and there are only two of us who fit that description. No, wait. Only one at the moment, I doubt she’d pull off introducing Edwina as her husband in high society._

“Not exactly…I know you’ve all got things you need to do. I just wanted to ask you to keep it in mind, in case you think of a likely candidate. Preferably a fighting man, but any noble will do, as long as he will consent to function as a figurehead for me. We don’t have to actually marry, but a lengthy engagement might be enough to get rid of Isaea.” 

“Well,” Zaerini said, “we’ll certainly let you know if we find anybody.” Then she looked at the rest of her companions. “Unless one of you guys want to…?”

“I think the Helmite would be an excellent candidate,” Edwina said, smirking. “He’s stiff, wooden, brainless and easily manipulated – the perfect puppet in other words.” She made a show of carefully studying her fingernails and gave the cleric a considering look. “Certainly, no other way is open to him if he desires female companionship, but it is a slim possibility regardless, so he would probably be better off seeking out a small chicken to molest. (A very small one if it is to suit him properly.)” 

Anomen’s blue eyes turned almost black with rage, and he leapt to his feet, towering over the wizard, his hand raised as if he meant to strike. Then he faltered, and Rini quite correctly guessed that he was unable to bring himself to hit a woman. “At least I am unlikely to be mistaken for a courtesan running away from her brothel,” he snarled. He blushed faintly and gave Rini, Nalia and Jaheira an apologetic look. “Your pardon, ladies. I’m afraid this…creature…makes me forget my good manners.” 

“That should be entertaining,” Edwina said in a silky voice, and then her eyes widened as she pointed at Anomen’s hair. “Look! Chicken feathers!” As the priest reflexively clutched at his head the wizard gave a low and throaty chuckle, and as annoyed as Zaerini was with her behavior, she couldn’t deny that the sound sent little shivers of delight down her spine. 

“Will you cut it out?” she told Edwina as she hastily pulled the other woman away from Anomen and guided her to a chair. “We have more important things to do than sit around while the two of you fight.” 

“I need to improve my mood somehow.”

“Well, try to think of a way that won’t end up with your head bashed in with a flail, all right?” 

A few seconds later a gleaming claw of blue-white lightning raked across the sky outside the windows, followed by a deafening clap of thunder. Zaerini clasped her hands across her ears, wincing, and she noticed that Jaheira looked quite pained as well. The sky had darkened, and heavy clouds were swiftly gathering, even as the wind began to howl. Then there were shuffling footsteps outside the door, followed by a loud creak as the door swung open. A thin, elderly man stepped inside, bowing in a way that made him look as if he were about to break in two. “Pardon me, Lady Nalia,” he said. “There are…guests.” 

Nalia blinked. “Thank you, Podkin,” she said. “These guests…they wouldn’t be the Roenals by any chance?”

The butler coughed delicately. “No, my lady. Not unless their appearances have greatly changed for the worse. Shall I tell them you are not at home?” 

“No,” Nalia said. “Let’s see who it is and what they want.” 

“Very good, my lady,” the butler said, and then shuffled out the door again. After a while he returned, looking quite disapproving. “The Lady Nalia will see you now,” he said to somebody standing outside the door. 

A loud peal of cackling laughter was punctuated by yet another thunderclap. “The lady, the lady!” The voice was cheerful, melodious, and very much familiar to Zaerini, though she certainly hadn’t expected to hear it. “The lady will see us now, but will we see her? Or is she hiding with the invisible bugbears on the dark side of the moon? What do you think, Monty?” 

“Just get out of the way, ye ninny,” another voice grunted. “Yer blocking the door.” 

“Urrrrgh!” another voice, this one wet and bubbling, added in. “Urrrgh, urrrrgh!” 

“See, Monty? Abduh will help you get inside more quickly! Isn’t he a good boy?”

“No! Put me down, ye blasted zombie! No! Nooooooo!” 

Thud. Montaron came flying through the air, struck an ancient suit of armor standing in a corner, and then landed heavily on the floor. “What are you doing?” he complained. “Isn’t it enough that I already died once this month?” Then his eyes widened in terror as her looked up to see the old armor beginning to topple dangerously. “Oh no…” The clatter of falling metal almost drenched out the halfling’s grunts of pain. 

“Urrrrgh!” Abduh said apologetically as he strode into the room, with his own distinct stench preceding him by several yards. He tentatively started picking the armor up, as Nalia looked on, her eyes as wide as teacups. 

“Oh dear,” Xzar said, peeking around the corner of the door. “Really Abduh, you don’t know your own strength…poor Monty could have been hurt! Now make certain he’s all right and reattach any bits that might have come loose.” The tattooed wizard suddenly broke off, and his breath caught at the sight of Nalia in her black outfit, standing at the other end of the room, illuminated by the lightning bolts flashing by outside. “Oh…” he said. “Oh _my_!” An enormous smile slowly spread across his face, making him look even more disturbing than normal. “Monty…you have to see this! It is the loveliest lady in the world, as fair of skin as the palest of vampires, as mysterious as an ancient bone guarding the nameless secrets of the Elder Races, with eyes as burning as those of an angry lich…it is enough to make me feel faint!” 

Still sporting that disturbing and huge grin, the insane Necromancer crossed the room, walking as if in a trance. “Powerful magic…” he murmured. “I can sense it in her…great potential, and the scent of even greater ambition…you are magnificent, oh lovely one! You could make even the Bunnies turn tail and run and pick the screaming stars out of the unforgiving sky to adorn your head with unholy light.” 

Nalia was watching the wizard, her mouth open with fascination, and Rini noticed that there was an odd gleam in her eyes. “Hello,” she told Xzar, her voice a little faint. “My name…my name is Nalia De’Arnise. My…those tattoos you have are certainly very interesting…I always wanted to get a few myself. They make you look so…so dark and mysteriously dangerous.” 

“Nalia…” Xzar whispered, sounding quite besotted as he seized upon the young noblewoman’s outstretched hand and proceeded to rain kisses upon it. “Oh Nalia…you drive me quite sane; you know!” he said between kisses. “I am Xzar, the Great and Terrible, and I will make you very unhappy if you will only let me…” 

Nalia actually giggled at this. She didn’t remove her hand either, though she was blushing a little. “I think I might enjoy that…” she said. 

Montaron had just managed to get to his feet again and was looking quite disgusted with the whole spectacle. He kept rubbing his eyes, as if he didn’t quite believe what he was seeing. 

“Urrrrrgh…” Abduh skeptically said, and for once Zaerini found herself actually agreeing with the zombie. 

-*-

The sun had already sunk below the horizon as Dekaras walked through Athkatla’s city gates, and though there were still traces of blood-red light across the sky they were fading rapidly. Down here on the streets, the shadows already lay heavy between the houses. The assassin made good use of them, slipping through the narrow streets as quietly as a ghost. Standing still in one place and gawking was never a good idea in any city, that sort of thing tended to attract muggers and pickpockets, and he’d really not rather have to kill anybody before he had at least had some supper. 

He had never visited Athkatla before, since he and Edwin had come via a different route on their journey west, and only had a vague idea about the general outline of the city. From what he had been able to gather, the more aristocratic quarters lay to the north of the river, and the seedier ones to the south. _South it is then. Not only should I be able to blend in more easily, but that is where I will be most likely to come across good sources of information. The Shadow Thieves are well known for knowing everything that goes on in this city, if anybody knows the whereabouts of Imoen and the others, they will be the ones._

As he made his way south, he mused on what strategy would be best to adopt. Simply strolling into the Shadow Thief headquarters to introduce himself would be out of the question. Possibly some of the more cosmopolitan assassins there might be familiar with his name, but that certainly didn’t mean they’d be willing to offer assistance. _They’d be just as likely to try to pull off some foolish dominance challenge. No, I will take things one step at a time. Let’s see what the word on the street is first of all, and then there will be time enough to check in with the Shadow Thieves. Some work on their behalf could prove useful._ He must also make certain to regularly check for messages from Poppy. Hopefully the halfling would soon be able to learn where the dwarven mercenary Kagain had escorted Edwin to. 

_And then perhaps I’ll feel a little calmer_ , Dekaras told himself as he passed into a deserted alley where a couple of emaciated wild dogs were fighting over a bone. For the past day or so his constant latent worry about Edwin’s wellbeing had increased steadily until by now it was like a persistent and painful itch that wouldn’t go away. _Something is wrong with him. I have no logical way of knowing it, but I know it all the same. I know. Something has happened to him, and I should be there to help him. If only I had some idea of where to find him…_ Feeling immensely frustrated, the assassin walked on, and by now he did wish for a group of muggers to ambush him, if only so he could take his frustration out on somebody. _Edwin is in trouble. I know it. And he will want my help. I have always been there for him; I should be there now. Whatever the matter is._

Dekaras briefly rubbed his temples and then went on. He could feel the beginnings of a headache, not something unusual where Edwin was concerned. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost hear the wizard’s voice, calling out for him in pain and confusion, pleading for him to come, asking why he wasn’t there yet. Logic told him that the answer to that question was ‘because he tricked you into visiting Icewind Dale’, but that didn’t help much. Nor did it help that even if he had known where Edwin was, he couldn’t just teleport himself there. He still felt just as guilty. _Anything could have happened to him. Anything. He could be in jail, or doing drugs, or dead. He could be tortured, or the victim of one of those necromancers who don’t bother with buying human kidneys. Or he could have been duped into joining some strange cult, or enslaved by a demonic force, or…_ The list went on and on, each item on it more gruesome than the one before. Dekaras usually was pleased enough with having an active imagination, but there were downsides to it, and at times like this they were very much apparent. His mind refused to stop thinking up terrible scenarios, much as he wanted it to. 

Distracted as he was by his worries over Edwin, Dekaras had almost reached the intersecting street before he noticed that something was wrong. The street that the alley led to was a little bit broader, though still dark. Most of the magical lanterns hanging between the houses were cracked and broken, probably by such folk as preferred their activities to go unseen by the local constabulary. And a group of just such people was standing close to the alley mouth, conversing in quiet voices. The assassin had time to pull back into the shadows though, and his presence remained unnoticed. 

There were two young men, dressed in dark and nondescript clothes, and the way they moved classified them as rogues beyond a doubt. They were looking very nervous, and they kept peering along the street, clearly afraid of being seen. The person they were with was a woman, and her voice sounded young, but as she was standing with her back towards the alley Dekaras couldn’t get a good look at her face. Still, there was something about her that made all his instincts scream out loud warnings. What he could see of her skin was very pale, and almost glittered in the faint light, catching it the way snow would, and her movements were all wrong. Sometimes they were too fast for a human being, sometimes too slow, as if she had to make a conscious effort to appear human. _Because she is not human_ , Dekaras thought, icy certainty filling his mind. _Another vampire. Hopefully one that can lead me closer to this ‘Bodhi’ person._

“So,” the vampire said in a smooth voice that was nevertheless filled with hints of unspeakable pain for all who dared oppose her. “Have you considered the Mistress’ proposal yet? I warn you; she will not wait forever.” 

The two young men gave each other a brief look. “We have thought about it, Hareishan,” one of them said. “But you’re asking us to take a very great risk, you know. Going against the Guild like that…it would be worth our heads if we were found out.” 

“Perhaps,” the vampire said, chuckling a little. “But do not think of it like that. Think of what it would be…worth…to accept the offer. Or to refuse it.” 

The second young rogue swallowed nervously, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “I’ll do it,” he said, then looked surprised at his own daring. “There are risks no matter what…and the Shadow Thieves are weak right now. Not just with the Guild War going on, but with that recent mess in Waukeen’s Promenade.” 

“Not to mention Mae’Var turning up dead,” the other man said. “Renal might have had his reasons for that…but I don’t like him bringing outsiders into our affairs. I’ll accept the offer too.” 

“Excellent,” the vampire purred. “You will receive orders later on, as well as the rewards you earn for yourselves. I will call on you later.” She waved her hand, and an instant later she was gone, while a small black bat fluttered into the air and soon disappeared. 

“So…” one of the thieves said, shivering. “Guess that’s it, huh?”

“Yeah…” his companion agreed, looking in the direction where the bat had disappeared. “Guess so. Well, better head on back to the Guild. We don’t want people to wonder where we’ve been.” 

The two young rouges weren’t bad at stealth, but Dekaras was better, and he had no particular problem following them at a distance through the city. Finally, they reached an area where the smell of salt and rotting seaweed was strong in the air, and he knew that they must be close to the harbor. He watched as the two men stopped outside a large stone building, knocking briefly on the door before they disappeared inside. He didn’t intend to follow them, not right now, but at least now he knew where he would be able to find some Shadow Thieves, should he want to. And perhaps they might lead him back to the vampire Hareishan as well…perhaps even to the mysterious Bodhi. _And her associate…whoever he might be. That other vampire I interrogated certainly seemed terrified of him._

Satisfied with this, Dekaras decided to seek out a suitable place to stay the night. The Shadow Thieves would have to wait, before he did anything else, he needed to explore the city a little, get a feel for its layout and important landmarks and possible spots of danger or safety. Preparation was key in all dangerous endeavors after all and tangling with some sort of vampire Queen should prove a dangerous business indeed, perhaps as much so as opposing Sarevok and Winski. _But if Imoen requires it, I will do it, as I would for Edwin. I hope she is still alive._ He realized that he was almost as worried about the pink-haired young thief as he was about Edwin, though with one big difference. In Imoen’s case he knew that she and her friends were in serious trouble because of the information he had gathered. In Edwin’s case…he just knew, with every fiber of his being. _Have to manage both. Somehow. I will not let them down. Not while I’m still alive._ Briefly, he recalled his conversation with Winski. _Or even if I’m not. Actually, I rather suspect that when I do eventually die I’ll follow his example and still keep watch over the children. As long as I don’t manage to get turned into a vampire of course. Impressive magical tricks, but I’d rather skip the ‘sleeping in a coffin’ bit. It seems extremely uncomfortable…_

Feeling a little better now that he had made some progress, the assassin went on his way. After the inevitable group of muggers did approach him, he felt even better. The same couldn’t be said about the muggers. Once they realized their mistake it was already too late, but they did increase his funds in a very satisfactory manner. _I suppose I should do some shopping soon, dull as it is to run around looking for clothes. But it can’t be helped, not if I want to be able to show myself in daylight. The trip did cause quite a lot of wear and tear after all. At least Athkatla is a merchant city; I should be able to get what I need without too much difficulty. Perhaps a few other supplies as well, what with the vampires and all. Holy water would be good if I can get hold of some._ Thinking of clothes made him think of Edwin again, this time with a fond smile. The boy had certainly inherited his mother’s fondness for such things, though Edwin was even more inclined to go for the outrageously flashy. It was all a bit of a mystery to Dekaras, who couldn’t care less about which color was currently fashionable since he only used one anyway, and grew extremely bored if forced to accompany one of his loved ones on a shopping spree. Ironically enough, Edwin always pleaded for him to come along, since the sight of the tall assassin glaring menacingly at his surroundings tended to make the shopkeepers especially eager to please. Thinking about that made him recall an incident that had happened not all that long ago, when they had been en route to the Sword Coast.

It hadn’t been all that long after they had left Thay, and Edwin was still very much unused to life on the road, if commendably eager to learn. Still, sleeping on the ground and living off dried rations was new to him, and though he tried not to show it, it wasn’t easy for him. So Dekaras hadn’t objected when they were passing through a city and the wizard requested that they stop so that he could get more supplies. Well, it had sounded reasonable enough, after all a mage needed to restock his spell components from time to time. Unfortunately, he had decided to trust Edwin to get what he needed himself, told him to get only the essentials, and then arranged to meet up with him afterwards. 

The problem, of course, lay in what Edwin considered to be essential. When the time was up, Edwin had come staggering along, proudly showing off his ‘great finds’. Not only had he bought enough scrolls and spell components to supply a small army of wizards, including a small stuffed alligator that he claimed he needed ‘for ambience’ but he was carrying a pile of red cloth so tall that he couldn’t even see over it. All of the material was very fine, and there seemed to be a heavy emphasis on silk and velvet. Oh, and there was also a lot of gold thread. Dekaras had pointed out, as gently as he could, that gold thread perhaps wasn’t quite essential as such, but Edwin had been extremely reluctant to grasp this concept. He did eventually give in about returning the alligator and the pile of cloth though, once Dekaras explained to him that they didn’t have an army of servants along with them, somebody would have to carry the heavy bundle and the animal, and he didn’t intend to be that somebody. The gold thread Edwin kept however and sewed so much of it onto his robe that the stiff fabric made it almost impossible for him to walk. _Lucky he didn’t fall in the water, he would have sunk like a stone._ Since that incident Dekaras had been very careful about not letting Edwin do unsupervised shopping, no matter how much the procedure bored him. 

_Except right now I’d cheerfully let him drag me through all of Athkatla’s merchant quarters and carry whatever he bought without complaints. As long as I knew he was alive and well. He has to be. If not…_

No. Edwin had to be well, anything other didn’t bear thinking about. _But still I have that nagging feeling…hold on, Edwin. Whatever the trouble is, please just hold on. I’ll be there as soon as I can._


	49. Death and The Page Of Cups

**Cards Reshuffled 49 - Death and The Page Of Cups**

_The Page of Cups usually represents a cheerful, open and naive young man or woman, one with benevolent intentions. Death, apart from its most obvious meaning, also represents transformation, and sometimes darkness in general. An odd pairing, but frequently the odd pairings may be the most powerful ones. This one will either bring greatness or destruction, and sometimes both._

_Excerpt from 'The Chaltar Deck of Cards - An Introduction'_

"She honestly means to go through with this? By the Oak Father, that girl has lost whatever little sense she had to begin with!" Jaheira's voice was an even mixture of disbelief and exasperation. Zaerini knew the tone well, though this time around it wasn't directed at her. 

"It sure seems like it," the bard replied. She and Jaheira were sitting in the druid's room, discussing the events of the evening. Jaheira's pack was already sitting neatly on the floor next to the door, ready for leaving, and Jaheira herself looked impatient enough to pick it up and walk out right away, even though it was night already. "She keeps going on and on about him. I guess it must have been love at first sight." 

"Yes, but…with Xzar?" 

Rini shrugged, tucking a strand of red hair back behind her ear. "I know…not exactly my first choice either, but tastes differ, I guess."

"Yes…but…Xzar? He is completely insane!" 

"According to Nalia he's 'charmingly eccentric and unconventional'. I guess the fact that he's apparently a noble helps. I honestly had no idea about that." 

"We have to convince her not to go through with this!" Jaheira's voice was flinty with determination. "And if you care at all about Nalia, you will help me out!" 

"I do care about Nalia," Rini said, feeling rather annoyed. "And I don't want to hurt her by interfering with something that's none of our business!"

"None of our business? Suppose he kills her and eats her liver, what would you say then?"

Zaerini thought about this for a moment. "I don't think he'd do that…he actually seemed quite taken with her. I've never seen anything like it. It was really quite sweet. Tell you what though. We'll go and talk to Nalia, and see what she says, but don't go too rough on her, all right?"

"Of course not," Jaheira huffed, moving so quickly that she was almost out the door already. "I never go rough on anybody." 

Nalia was eventually found in a small sitting room off the main hall. She was sitting in a tall and high-backed chair decorated with carved dragons and unicorns, in front of a roaring fire. With the storm still raging outside, the heat was quite welcome, for the air was quite a bit chillier than was usual for the balmy Amnian climate. Nalia still had that dreamy, slightly distant look on her face that she had sported ever since she first laid eyes on Xzar, and in the firelight she was practically glowing, despite her black mourning clothes. She was smiling widely at nothing in particular, a smile that seemed very familiar to Zaerini. She had seen it often enough in her mirror, if she happened to be thinking about a certain Red Wizard. _I guess she really is in love_ , she thought. _Or at the very least seriously smitten._

"Hello!" Nalia bubbled as soon as she saw the two women entering. "Can't you sleep? Not that I blame you…it's a beautiful night, isn't it? Just listen to that thunder…"

"Oh, I'm pretty much an evening person myself," Rini said. She sat down next to the fire, on the wide stone separating the fireplace from the rest of the floor, and stretched her hands out, enjoying the heat. "So, had a nice evening?"

"Oh yesss…" Nalia said, sighing deeply and smiling again. "I don't know how I will ever be able to thank you enough! Not only have you saved my Keep, but Xzar tells me that you saved _his_ life too, not long ago. Imagine that, I never would have met him if not for you!" 

"Yes," Jaheira said in a flat voice, giving Rini a meaningful look. "Exactly. Where is he, by the way?"

"Oh, he went to fetch some of his spell scrolls! He says he thinks I can be a really powerful mage, just like I've always wanted! Isn't that wonderful? And Necromancy seems so fascinating a speciality…perhaps I should give it a try. Xzar says he thinks I can do it; he really believes in me! He's so…so special! I never met anybody like him before!" 

"I should think so," Jaheira said in a weary voice. "Few enough people regularly go off on rants about rabbits and…and the demonic properties of socks. The man is completely insane, not to mention dangerous!" 

"Dangerous is good," Nalia said, still smiling and staring into the fire. "With somebody dangerous at my side, I shouldn't have to worry about Isaea. And I think he can help me become more dangerous too, and that's even better."

"And the sanity issue?" Rini asked. 

"Oh, that. That's nothing. Just a charming little foible, a quirk of character and expression." Nalia shrugged apologetically. "Plenty of members of the upper classes have those, though I can't blame you for not knowing that. One of my ancestors spent the last ten years of his life believing himself to be a fern and demanding to be buried up to his knees in good soil and watered every morning. And my great-grandfather used to hunt for mice in the hallways every morning. With a heavy crossbow. When you're a noble you can afford to be a little eccentric." 

_Never thought I'd hear anybody describe Xzar as 'a little eccentric'_ , Rini thought. "So, how do you like Montaron and Abduh?" she asked. "After all, if Xzar is to play the part of your fiancé, you'll have to put up with those two as well."

"Oh, that little halfling is truly the salt of the earth!" Nalia beamed. "So charmingly blunt and outspoken, maybe a little rough around the edges, but after all he's a commoner so you can't expect otherwise." 

"And Abduh?"

"The zombie? Isn't he fascinating? Amazing what Necromancy can do, isn't it? And he's really sweet, so loyal and devoted, and never talks back at all."

"The perfect servant, in other words," Jaheira interjected. 

Nalia didn't even notice the sarcasm. "Well, yes! I thought we might train him to be our new butler. Podkin resigned only an hour ago.I can’t imagine why. And Xzar says that he can show me how to make more zombies…it seems ever so exciting!" 

"What about your Aunt, though?" Jaheira said, making a final, desperate attempt. "What does she have to say about all this?" 

"Well," Nalia said, "she didn't like his tattoos much, but then I explained that where he comes from, they're a sign of noble blood, and that only the highest aristocracy may wear them. She came around after that." 

Rini couldn't help laughing at that. "Good one!" she said. "Is there any truth to it at all?"

"No idea," Nalia said. Then she giggled. "But I couldn't very well tell Auntie Delcia that his tattoos make my knees go all wobbly, now could I? According to Auntie Delcia, a Lady doesn't even have knees, at least not visible ones." 

Jaheira shook her head. "I give up," she said, getting to her feet. "I just hope you know what you are doing, that is all." Then she left, muttering something under her breath about easily infatuated girls. 

"I guess I'd better get going too," Zaerini said after a few minutes. "We'll be going back to Athkatla tomorrow morning, I should try to get some sleep. Are you sure you'll be all right here?"

"Yes," Nalia said, nodding. "I will be. I have to be, for my people's sake. I'm the Lady De'Arnise now, and I mean for everybody to recognise that, especially the Roenals. And I won't be alone now either." She swallowed once, her lips trembling a little. “Father is gone…but I live. I mean to keep on living, and now it will be easier to do so. As I said, at least I won’t be alone.”

"No…I guess not. Well, if there's any trouble you can probably reach us via Bernard of the Copper Coronet, and maybe we'll stop by later if we have the time. I hope everything works out for you." 

"Thank you," Nalia said, hugging the half-elf briefly. "And the same to you." 

Zaerini had left the room and was just about to go upstairs when she heard voices coming from behind her. The room had two different entrances, and she correctly guessed that somebody else must have entered by one as she left by the other. She could guess who that 'somebody' must be too. _I probably shouldn't do this_ , she thought as she pressed her eye to the keyhole, straining her sensitive ears as much as she could. _But if I don't do it the curiosity will keep me awake all night!_

The storm was still howling wildly outside, but she was still able to hear with no great difficulty, and through the keyhole she could just make out Nalia standing in front of the fireplace, a dark silhouette against the leaping flames. Xzar was standing very close to her, and he seemed to be holding both of her hands in his own. "Nalia, delight of my eyes!" the insane Necromancer crooned. "I'm not sure what you are doing to me, but I like it! It makes my heart pound in a most interesting way…did I tell you about my collection of hearts back home? Fascinating things…anyway, all the voices agree completely about you, even the Great Frlurlik of the Tentacled Lips, and when I'm near you the bunnies go completely silent. You don't know what that means…the silence of the bunnies." 

"I don't," Nalia admitted. "But I'd love to learn." 

"And Abduh adores you," Xzar raved. "He's _such_ a good boy, he knows what's good for his Master. I must see about building a lady zombie for him as soon as possible, he deserves that, I think. Yes…a Bride for Abduh! And I think I could probably use lightning to make her even more lively than he is, as long as I have the proper equipment, and this castle really seems to attract it. Oh, this will be so perfect…" 

Nalia whispered something in a low voice, words that Zaerini couldn't understand but thought sounded very pleasant. It was difficult to hear, but she thought it was Elvish. Xzar seemed to catch the meaning though. "Nalia!" he exclaimed. "You're…speaking Elvish!" 

" _Uma_!" Nalia said. 

This was followed by a loud and delighted gasp from the Necromancer, and Rini could see him raise the noblewoman's hands to his face, raining down kisses upon them. Whatever Nalia said was quite inaudible, but from the way she stepped into the Necromancer's arms, making their silhouettes melt together to one single dark shape, Rini thought she seemed pleased enough. 

_I've seen that before_ , the bard thought as she silently left. _The Page of Cups…embracing Death. I'm not sure exactly why, but I have a feeling this was meant to happen, that it's important. I sure hope things will work out for them. It seems totally insane at a first look, but they really do seem to have fallen head over heels for each other. It must be nice to have a simple, uncomplicated love life like that._

Once she reached her bedroom, Zaerini crept into bed, wishing that it hadn't been empty. After that initial night of comfort, Edwina had pulled back into her shell a little, claiming a need for privacy. Rini was certain that it was at least partially a pretense, she knew that the wizard wanted to be with her, and for more than just sleeping company, but she also thought she could guess the reason for it. _She's embarrassed by this whole Nether Scroll thing. She thinks I won't be able to think of her that way as long as she's female, and she likely won't believe me if I simply tell her otherwise, she'll think I'm just trying to be nice. I must think of some way to show it to her. I guess she needs a little space too, but…but I'm afraid she'll take it too far. I don't want to lose her, ever. If we can't change her back within the next few days, I have to prove that to her, somehow._

Sighing a little, the half-elf turned over in bed, clutching one of the spare pillows tightly in her arms. As she closed her eyes and drifted into sleep she smiled, and for a few seconds she was able to pretend that the pillow was a live and warm body, right next to her, the body of the person she loved. _Right here with me…where he's…or she's…supposed to be._

_The next day…_

“This does it! I will go nowhere else until I have the chance to get properly outfitted!” 

Edwina tossed her long dark hair back across her shoulder in what she had to admit was a very satisfying gesture and gave her companions a commanding look. Travel in the countryside had been bad enough, but now that she was back in Athkatla things were really getting intolerable. Her old robes didn’t fit her at all any longer, but there was nothing else for her to wear. Her female traveling companions didn’t have many changes with them, not surprising since they had only so very recently been imprisoned in a dungeon, and they weren’t the right size anyway. It was clear and obvious that shopping was necessary, and that had given her a nice idea. “I think perhaps I might benefit from some company while I see about getting attired in a manner suitable for my station,” she said, giving Zaerini a sidelong look. “Some female company. To assist me in making the proper selections. (And perhaps I can even persuade her to model a garment or two for me. Or an undergarment.)” At least she could profit a little bit from her misery. So far, the temples they had visited had been able to do exactly nothing about her condition, though she certainly didn’t intend to give them up until they had checked every single one in Athkatla.

“Sure, I’ll come,” the half-elf said. “You probably need it. And I guess I could do with a thing or two myself. Jaheira, do you want to come as well?”

The druid shook her head. “No, child. I have some errands of my own to take care of. I will see you later at the Copper Coronet.” She looked calm, but there was something about her voice… Edwina gave the Harper a sharp look. _More Harper intrigues? That one bears watching._

“Minsc will come!” Minsc said. “He will protect his Witch against the Evil of Rampaging Shoppers, and send them to the Final Sale. And he will help carry the packages too, as long as we can stop to buy a brush to keep Boo’s fur shiny and silky.” 

“Say…” Jan said, giving the ranger a sly look. “You really shouldn’t take Boo with you into a madhouse like Waukeen’s Promenade, Minscey! Why, he could get crushed! Let him come with me to visit my family instead, he’ll get as much turnip as he can eat.” 

“No!” Minsc growled, clutching his hamster protectively to his chest. “Minsc doesn’t trust you with Boo, you keep eying him greedily.” 

“But…” 

“Leave Boo alone, Jan,” Zaerini said. “Anomen, how about you? Are you coming with us?”

_No! No, please no! Anything but the Helmite, not in my present condition! He’ll try to take advantage of it in order to get close to her!_

Anomen hesitated for a moment. “I would like to, my lady,” he said. “However, I feel the need to visit the Temple, it has been some time. Might I perhaps ask for the boon of your gracious company later today instead?”

_No! Just say no!_

“Um…I guess,” Zaerini said. “Sure.” 

_Damn._

There was a small hand tugging at Edwina’s nose chain, and as she turned her head, she noticed Insufferable grinning at her. _Don’t you worry, boss!_ The monkey sounded supremely confident. _The pretty cat lady wants you. Say, have you tried marking your scent around her yet?_

_I’m probably going to regret asking this, but exactly what do you mean by ‘marking my scent’?_

_You don’t know? Gee boss, you’re really in need of help. Here, I’ll show ya!_

_No! Don’t…_

Too late. The tiny monkey had jumped off Edwina’s shoulder and onto the ground and proceeded with the demonstration. The rest of the party watched in silence. 

“Edwina?” Zaerini said after a few seconds. Her voice sounded rather edgy, not a good sign at all. “Perhaps you can explain to me why your monkey is peeing in a circle around my feet? Is this some sort of weird magical ritual I’ve never heard of?”

_Insufferable, when I catch you I will kill you._ “Ah…yes!” the wizard tried, attempting a convincing smile. “It is, actually. It’s a…a magical circle of protection against all danger! Very powerful, very exclusive. I wouldn’t use it on just anybody, you know.” 

“Oh, I guess that makes sense.”

“It does? I mean…of course it does!”

“Yes. The smell would certainly keep most people at a certain distance at least as long as I stand still in one place.”

Anomen snorted, giving the monkey a disdainful look. “That beast is probably as rabid as its owner,” he said. “It should be put down before it bites somebody.” 

Insufferable hissed angrily, and then made a derisive bird-like sound. _Oh yeah? Take this, helmet-head!_

“Argh!” Anomen screamed, trying to step on the animal, but failing spectacularly as the nimble little monkey leapt aside, rapidly jumping onto Edwina’s arm where it perched and made rude noises at him. “That…that thing just soiled my boots! I will squash it like…” 

Edwina didn’t even pause to think. She simply stepped forward, scowling up at the angrily red face of the cleric, and when she spoke her voice was a low and deadly hiss. “Lay as much as a finger on my familiar and I will ensure that you soil your boots even as I use my magic to tie you in a knot tight enough that your view of the world will always be limited to the up-close sight of your own fat posterior.” Insufferable stuck his tongue out at Anomen, then imitated the position suggested by the wizard, showing Anomen his tail-end. _That should tell him. Annoying as the monkey is, he is my familiar._

Anomen was quite purple by now, and he was trying to draw breath as his hand itched closer to the Flail of Ages. Edwina tried not to think about how it would feel if those spikes impacted with her head. 

“Anomen!” Zaerini shouted, pushing in between the wizard and the cleric. Her eyes were flashing angrily, and her red hair was practically giving off sparks. “How could you threaten a poor little animal? I know he behaved badly, but really!” She petted Insufferable, and the monkey rubbed himself against her finger, crooning adorably, and then gave Anomen a triumphant smirk behind her back. “And _you_ ,” the bard went on, rounding on Edwina, “had better not be the one who put him up to that or I’ll get very annoyed with you.” 

“What? Me? I would never…” 

“Oh, spare me. Now come on, we need to get that shopping done before it gets dark. See the rest of you guys later.” The half-elf neatly tucked her hand beneath Edwina’s arm, and then walked off, Minsc amiably trailing after them. 

_Am I a genius or am I a genius?_ Insufferable proudly asked. 

_You’re an annoying pest, that’s what you are._

_Aw, come on, boss! It worked, didn’t it? She’s not really all that angry with you, and she adores me. Next time you try it. She’ll probably pet you too._

Edwina sighed. She knew that a mage would suffer greatly if his or her familiar got killed, but right now she almost felt it might be worth it. 

The journey back to Athkatla had been a pain, of course. She was still trying to get used to this new and unfamiliar body that she had found herself trapped in, and though she was at least beginning to get a better sense of how to use it, that gave her no pleasure. _Because this isn’t me. It isn’t how I am meant to be._ True, she had spent quite some time admiring her female form in a mirror, and it was certainly an attractive one. And pleasurable as well under the right circumstances, she certainly hadn’t passed up the opportunity for some active investigation in private. _Once I turn back to normal, that could prove very useful. First hand experience of just what pleases a woman…yes, very useful indeed. That Helmite is the sort who’d just jump on top of her, please himself and grunt like a pig, and expect her to be satisfied with that. Once I turn back, I’ll show her how a Thayvian man can satisfy a woman. If I turn back, that is. If._ And that was what was worrying her more with every passing hour. Her magic had proved useless against the Nether Spell, and she had found nothing to help in the scroll itself. The priests she had seen had shrugged, or thrown their hands into the air, or in one case even laughed. Though that one wasn’t likely to laugh at his petitioners again until he got himself healed, not with all the missing teeth and the broken nose.

_Suppose I can’t change back? Suppose I’m stuck like this forever? Stuck as somebody to be laughed at, ridiculed?_ She felt a sharp pain behind her eyes as she contemplated this, along with a tightness in her stomach. Fear, twisting her insides painfully. Briefly she snuck a glance at her companion. Zaerini was looking contentedly at the crowds of people they passed through, fascinated by the life and bustle. Her flame-red hair swung lightly this way and that as she kept turning her head to look curiously at something new and fascinating. _My Hellkitten…she will not laugh at me. Not that way, not for real. I could almost fool myself into believing that she would not care which form I’m in…but I do! I don’t want her coming to me out of pity. And she deserves the real me, and nothing less. I just have to get back into my proper shape._ She sighed, wishing not for the first time that she’d been able to discuss her plight with her teacher. _Teacher Dekaras wouldn’t laugh at me either. He might have a thing or two to say about my casting a spell without having finished my research properly…but he’d never laugh at me. He’d listen to me, and he’d think of some way to fix this, or at least he’d be able to say something to make me feel better about it all. He always does. I wish he were here right now._

About an hour later, Edwina had found yet another reason to long for her mentor’s presence. She knew full well that the assassin detested shopping, unless it involved things like weapons, books, or rare poisons. Clothes and shoes bored him practically to tears, but if he was present Edwin always tended to get a discount from the shopkeepers without even asking for it, simply so the assassin would stop unnerving them by glaring at everything in sight, not to mention scaring the other customers off. Well, discount or not, she had still found herself a number of satisfying items. Enough red cloth that she’d be able to make herself the perfect stylish mage robe, and of fine quality too. _Magic for the routine stitches in order to spare time, but the finer work needs to be done by hand. Not quite as much gold thread as I’d like, but it will have to do. I can always buy more later._ She knew that she was capable of instilling a few basic enchantments in the cloth, protection against fire and the like, the usual things. And she had a perfect model in mind, something that she was certain would suit her admirably. _How could I possibly go wrong? After all, I know exactly what looks good on a woman, it’s simple enough to acquire the same things._

“Edwina?” Zaerini said, coming around a corner with a few packages in her arms. “Did you find what you were looking for?” 

“Of course! It may not be Thayvian work, but it will have to do. (And I must admit it, being able to simply walk into a shop supplying feminine undergarments without feeling embarrassed is a novel experience.) Here, let me show you.” Edwina proudly held up the things she had bought and waited for the exclamations of stunned approval. When they failed to materialize, she gave her companion a puzzled look. 

Zaerini was staring at the undergarments in question, her golden eyes wide with a mixture of shock and amusement. Eventually she tentatively poked them, as if checking to see if they were actually real. “Edwina…” she said. “How familiar are you with what is comfortable to wear for a woman? Honestly?”

“Comfortable?” Edwina asked blankly. “Comfortable? What an incredibly boring way of looking at it! Feminine forms should be proudly displayed to their full advantage, using every trick available. (Not that either of us need tricks as such, since we’re already stunning and perfect in every way, but it can’t hurt either.)”

“I see,” the half-elf said, rubbing her temple. “Well, I guess I’m glad that you’re still _thinking_ like a man, but I’m afraid you’re in for a nasty surprise or two. Just look at these things! That they’re all red is one thing, apart from the black ones. But really, Edwina…sequins?”

“They’re sparkly!”

“Yes…but there are even sequins on the inside of this thing!” 

“So?”

“Edwina…sequins itch! And your skin will be…” The bard suddenly blushed a little. “Er…your skin in your chest area is very sensitive. You don’t want sequins rubbing it. The one made from itchy lace is a bad idea for the same reason. And the one with…with holes in it is also an extremely bad idea, but for an entirely different reason. And what’s this thing?” She held up another of Edwina’s purchases, looking utterly disbelieving. “Do you really mean to walk around with a…a piece of string up your butt?” 

“It’s not string!”

“It might as well be!” 

“It just so happens,” Edwina huffed, “that I will look absolutely ravishing in it. I thought…” She looked away, feeling a little hurt. “I thought you would like that.” 

Zaerini’s eyes softened, and Edwina couldn’t help staring helplessly into them, feeling as if she were about to drown. The smile that the half-elf gave her was tender and mischievous at the same time, as well as a little sad. “You always look ravishing. Always. You don’t need to wear instruments of torture in order to prove it to me. I don’t really want you to get some sort of nasty fungal infection, you know.” 

Edwina nodded, filled with confusing emotions. She wanted to believe that the bard might care for her equally in her current form, but she didn’t quite dare to. A rejection now, when she was already vulnerable…that would hurt too much. Privately she resolved that she would hold her tongue for now and work even harder on getting rid of the curse. _I want her so much…but not like this. She deserves the real me, giving her all the pleasure I can._

Privately, in her room that night after having tried her purchases on for a long while, Edwina also resolved never, ever to buy any string-like undergarments again. Not even on pain of death. Clearly, this ‘being a woman’ thing was more complicated than she had previously thought.


	50. Three Dark Queens and One Happy Birthday

**Cards Reshuffled 50 – Three Dark Queens and One Happy Birthday**

_As horrifying as it is with a foe reveling in his or her own evil deeds, there are things worse still. For example, one who is able to hide his nature, and use subterfuge against you. And the worst enemy of all, the one able to create the greatest amount of misery, is one who is convinced of his own ultimate goodness and has the power of tyranny to back it up._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

The blood was exquisite. Bodhi savored the full, rich taste, taking a heady delight in it. Sweet, sweet blood, the taste of life itself, rushing into her mouth past her fangs, filling her throat with delicious warmth. Her victim for tonight was a young man, a poor fool who had wandered into the graveyard at night and would never wander out again. He had pretty blue eyes, now glazed and almost lifeless, soft brown hair and suntanned skin, now paler than it had ever been. He had a fine young body, nicely muscular, and his feeble struggles in her arms had been very amusing. _Ah, yes. A fine hunt it was._ She had chased him all over the dark city of the dead, played with him and taunted him, now and then letting him think he was about to get away, then appearing on top of a crypt or behind an old tomb, smiling at him with her fangs clearly visible. Finally, when he had been almost to the exit, the mist had risen up about him, and he had been caught in her cold embrace. 

And now the lovely young prey was in her arms, his heart pumping the last of his lifeblood more and more slowly, with ever weakening beats. Soon enough, it would cease to beat altogether. Bodhi sucked a little harder at the twin wounds in the youth’s throat, eager to draw out the very last of that delightful blood. Soon now…soon. The moment came, the heart ceased to beat, and she thought she could almost feel the life rush into her along with the blood. The hunt was but the foreplay, but the moment of death was when she could almost feel like the Bodhi she had been before, the one who had lived completely in every given moment, who had _felt_. The Bodhi who had been before. Before the Curse. 

The vampire hissed quietly as she raised her head from the wound, letting the corpse slide to the ground. She licked her lips, feeling the last of the blood tickle her tongue. Her eyes glowed red in the dark of her bedroom as she spotted the warm human body near the door. So, her slave had come again. Almost a pity she was already full…his blood had a nice taste. “Yoshimo…” she purred, gliding towards the bounty hunter. “How nice of you to come to visit me.” 

The bounty hunter’s smooth face remained impassive, but her eyes were far keener than those of a human, and she could see the slight tension of his jaw, as well as the almost imperceptible sheen of sweat on his forehead. 

“You summoned me,” he stiffly said. He didn’t add, ‘And so I had no choice.’ They both knew that was the truth. 

“Why Yoshimo!” Bodhi said, grinning hungrily. “I’m almost beginning to suspect that you don’t want to be here…poor boy, do I frighten you that badly?” Quick as lightning, she pounced on the man, holding him tightly in her arms, and then she slowly and with great abandon let her cold pink tongue dart out, licking her way along his throat. She could feel him shudder at her touch, and idly she wondered if it was desire or revulsion. Perhaps both. It did not matter. “What have you to tell me?” she asked, abandoning her seductive tones for a colder, more business-like voice that never failed to take people by surprise. 

“I have kept track of the Avariel, as you ordered,” Yoshimo said. “She is staying in the Government District, and she seems to have found herself a noble patron. What she plans apart from that is still unknown to me.” 

“Well, keep on watching her! Mind that you don’t let her see you though, or you’ll most likely be found dead in the gutter, minus a few important body parts. And what of the other one?”

Yoshimo spoke reluctantly this time, as if he had to force the words between his lips. “I spotted Zaerini from a distance this afternoon. She has just returned to Athkatla.”

“Excellent. Perhaps it will soon be a good time to approach her openly…but let us wait and see a little while yet.” Bodhi suddenly frowned. The thief looked far too impassive for her liking. “There is something you are withholding, slave,” she coldly said, running her sharp nail along his jaw. “I don’t like that. Speak, while you still have a tongue to speak with.” 

This time it was definitely revulsion that made Yoshimo shudder. “It is about one of her companions,” he explained. “The wizard…” 

Bodhi listened, and as she did her smile widened. This sounded as if it might certainly turn out to be useful. 

-*-

Aerie concentrated, making her rosy lips tremble and a few tears well up into her eyes. “And…and then they j-just abandoned me in the street. I…I g-guess I must have been too weak again…but I only ever w-wanted to be nice and make them like me. How…how can people act like that? So…so callously?”

The man sitting next to her on the comfortable pink couch frowned deeply, his one bushy eyebrow contorting itself like a mating caterpillar. “Call-ass-ly? What’s that mean? It’s got something to do with ass?” He guffawed. “You said ‘ass’! Hehn Hehn!”

_Great Mistress Loviatar, I so adore an idiot. Unfortunately, I still want to strangle him with his own drooling tongue._

Young Fedric Eckel did indeed have an unfortunate tendency to drool, caused by a combination of rampant hormones and a pea-sized brain. He was by far more stupid than his elder brother Lord Logum Eckel, not a mean feat at all. In fact, Aerie suspected that the greatest intellectual challenge young Fedric had ever faced had been potty training, and she rather suspected that it had been a great strain. He was a shrimp-like young man, so skinny that you could hardly see him if you watched him from the side, and though he didn’t have an exactly ugly face as such, the dull and cow-like look in his eyes made Aerie want to claw them out and make him eat them. The fact that he was a complete physical weakling hadn’t kept him from convincing himself that he was a muscle-bound stud. He had covered the walls in his rooms with paintings of sweating gladiators with bulging pectorals and biceps, and he was happy in the delusion that he looked just like them, and very contemptuous of all ‘lesser’ males. But off-putting as he was, he had his uses as a wealthy young noble who would increase her circle of power to encompass his friends in addition to those of his brother.

“N-no…” Aerie made herself stutter. “I meant that they were…that they were mean to me!” 

Fedric digested this for about three minutes, his eyes glassy and his lips moving. “No good!” he finally pronounced. “You’re good and pretty. I can tell. I’m great judge of char-act-ter. Those people…bet they’re really ugly! And stupid!” He beamed at her, impressed with his own cleverness. 

_Takes one to know one._ “Um…I…I guess so,” Aerie said. “So…where are we g-going tonight? You said something about…about ch-cheering me up? A break from your brother’s exercises?”

“Oh yeah!” Fedric said with a wide grin. “Thought we’d go down to Execution Square…three pieces of thieving evil scum up for being torn to chunky bits by horses tied to ‘em with chains! That’ll be fun! We can cheer an’ gloat an’ throw eggs an’ stuff! They’ll scream lots, and if we’re lucky they cry too, but then they sort of just go splat. That’s the best bit.” 

“Oh!” Aerie exclaimed, trying to sound shocked. “That…that sounds so h-horrid! But…but I s-suppose they are very w-wicked people?”

“’Course!” Fedric winked at her, grinning. “It’s all right, I know women are weak and scare easy, not like strong men like me. I’ll protect you!” He flexed his upper arm, making a biceps the size of a walnut strain to become visible through his shirt. 

“I’ll c-come then,” Aerie said, fluttering her eyelashes. “As l-long as they are really wicked people I s-suppose it’s all right.” _And as long as they scream delightfully. Finally, an evening’s good entertainment, even if the company is that of a complete and utter bore. I can’t wait to see the blood…_ She smiled, contemplating the sweet screams of the dying, and her face took on a dreamy, faraway look. 

-*-

The screams of the interrogated woman subsided into quiet whimpers, and the _Oluanna_ nodded quietly to herself, giving the signal for the Web of Pain to be temporarily lifted. “I am sorry this has to be, sister,” she honestly said, gently wiping the bound woman’s face. “Will you not recant? Surely there is no need for all this foolishness?” 

The woman bound to the table was weighted down with heavy chains, augmented with magic, that cut into her skin. Her dress was torn by invisible whips, her body covered with sweat, her face swollen and discolored. “Never!” she breathed, trying to spit the other woman in the face. The only thing she managed to spit out was a tooth. “Never! I will fight you with every breath of life left in me, for what you have done to the _Wychlaran_ , for what you would do with Rasheman!” 

The _Oluanna_ shook her head, brown braids swaying. She felt true sorrow at hearing these delusional rantings. “Poor sister,” she said. “You are mistaken, confused. In your heart, you must know that I act only in the best interests of the _Wychlaran_ …and of the rest of Rasheman of course, for what is good for the _Wychlaran_ is certainly what is good for Rasheman. It grieves me that you cannot see this, that you refuse to join me in building the beautiful world ahead.”

“Your ‘beautiful world’ is a prison! A zoo!” The woman on the table yanked in vain at her chains once again, her swollen and bruised face twisted up with anger and fear. “When I first learnt of your plans, I could not believe it. I did not want to believe it. But now…and then I found out about the things you and those who came before you had already done, the changes. You are insane, drunk on your own glory, and you will be the death of us all!” 

The _Oluanna_ felt tears rising in her eyes, and she clasped her hands in front of her, in order to remain serene. “I seek no glory!” she said. “I seek only to serve, and to protect us all from danger. I am the one best equipped to do so, and it is therefore my duty. And I will let nothing interfere with that duty.” Her voice turned cold as she steeled herself to do what she had to. This was her sister in front of her, in spirit if not in blood, but her duty was clear. “The Law is clear. Disobedience breeds rebellion, anarchy, and death, putting innocent lives at risk. Therefore…disobedience merits death. Sisters…end it.” The group of purple-robed Witches around the table obeyed instantly, never hesitating. The bound woman spasmed once, then was still. _My poor sister…if only I could have made you see the truth. Justice…virtue…order…these things are greater than any of us. They demand that we make sacrifices._

Once she returned to her quarters, the _Oluanna_ sat down in her favorite armchair, and closed her eyes for a moment. In the birdcage next to the chair, Piri, her nightingale, was singing a sweet and melancholy tune. Though she usually kept the cage locked, she had made certain that the bird’s wings were clipped for safety’s sake. She did not want to run the risk of him escaping, getting hurt. Yet the bird was refusing both food and water, and his song was faltering. She would need to get a new one soon. _I will protect him well, as I will my people. I am the_ Oluanna, _the Chosen One, and it is my duty to do so. I will protect them all._

She unrolled the letter she had received this morning, reading it through again. She had never met Serenstina Tershar, but she knew that the woman was one of the _Wychlarans'_ finest agents, and she had no reason to doubt her word, though the subordinate Witch had no idea who would be the ultimate recipient of it. 

A Wychlaran agent was missing, presumed dead. There was nothing odd about that, not in itself. The world was a dangerous place, after all. But this particular agent, this ‘Dynaheir’ wasn’t just any agent. She was an agent who had just happened to be sent after one of those…Bhaalspawn. A Bhaalspawn called ‘Zaerini of Candlekeep’. Whether it was the evil creature herself who had killed the agent was unclear, but she would undoubtedly have something to do with it. _I will not allow these fiends to tear the world asunder! They are a threat, and they will be dealt with. Permanently._ This particular Bhaalspawn seemed to be a powerful one, from Serenstina Tershar’s account, and that made her even more dangerous. And that wasn’t all, either. 

The _Oluanna_ rolled the letter up again, frowning. Serenstina had been phrasing herself vaguely, despite using code, but her message had been clear. Both parts of it. The first part concerned young Dynaheir, and the Bhaalspawn. The second part…the second part concerned the odd experience that Serenstina herself had recently had, when she had awoken with no memory at all of having gone to sleep, and an odd hole in her memory. It could have been natural sleep, but that was doubtful. Scryings had turned up nothing, nothing apart from shadows. 

_Shadows…_ The Oluanna frowned again, her mouth tightening. She was good at Divination, very much so, and so she judged that it might at least be worth making an attempt. She chanted the scrying spell, focusing on the letter in front of her. Yes. There was something there. Nothing clear, the shadows were obscuring almost the entire scene. Yet one of the shadows was different…vaguely humanoid. She could make out no features, no details, but she knew who that had to be, knew it as certainly as she knew her own name. _The Wraith. This has gone on far too long. It is high time we did something about that one._

As she let the spell dissolve, the odd silence in the room attracted her attention, and she turned her head towards the birdcage. It seemed that it was indeed time to get another bird. She honestly couldn’t fathom why they kept dying despite her best efforts to take good care of them. 

_Meanwhile, in Beregost…_

“Aw, come on!” Poppy wheedled. “You can tell me; you know you can!” 

“NO!” Kagain roared, and then put his head on the sticky table in the Jovial Juggler, trying to cover it with his arms. The fact that his beard was getting soaked in a puddle of beer was a very minor annoyance compared to the halfling. “I told ye already, I don’t tell tales about me clients. That be bad for business. Find the wizard on yer own.” 

“But I’m not just anybody!” Poppy said, smiling sweetly at the dwarf over the top of the table. “I’m his own Auntie…well, practically. I mean, he belongs to my Best Friend, who is practically my little brother, so I have to take good care of him. I promised to.” She increased the power of the smile. “Go on, don’t be grumpy! Your face could get stuck like that. You wouldn’t want that. I always find a happy smile makes you feel lots better.” 

Kagain groaned quietly. “Little brother?” he said in a sour voice, as he gave the small halfling with the bouncing brown braids and the red cheeks a dark look. “How big would he be? Pixie-size?” 

“Nope!” Poppy said, giggling. “Not really…though I’d love to see him in sparkly wings. So, are you gonna tell me where I can find little Eddie or not?”

“NOT! Not, not, not! Now leave me be, before me axe cleaves ye in two and…” Kagain suddenly broke off in mid-sentence. He had barely seen the halfing’s hand move, but all of a sudden something very sharp was poking into his side, between two ribs, and he was becoming uncomfortably aware of the fact that a chain mail is in fact composed of holes, holes a slim weapon can enter quite easily. 

The sweet smile on the halfling’s face never wavered. For some reason, the cute dimples made her even more terrifying, especially when she giggled again, eyes sparkling merrily. “You sure?” she said. 

“Athkatla,” Kagain said very rapidly, trying not to exhale too much. “The City of Coins, down in Amn. That’s where I took ‘im. Don’t know where he went from there.” 

“Thanks!” Poppy said, dimples deepening even more. “See, I knew you were nice after all! I like dwarfs, they’re funny. And it was sweet that you tried to keep Eddie-kins’ secret, I like that. See ya!” She reached her hand out, tugging teasingly at the irate dwarf’s beard, and then she jumped away, quickly melting into the shadows as the furious Kagain reached for his axe. She was still smiling to herself as she crawled beneath a few tables and slipped out the door to the inn. 

_Oh, goodie goodie!_ Poppy thought to herself as she skipped down the dark streets of Beregost. Silently of course, as an assassin should, not that skipping was something assassins usually did. Certainly, her Best Friend would rather die than be caught skipping, but then she’d always thought he was too gloomy for his own good. _Athkatla, that’s just perfect! Wait until Dekkie hears that, he’ll be so pleased! Now he can pick Eddie up and still find that girl Imoen. I’ll go write to him at once._

It was tempting to go deliver the message herself, but with this piece of news she was certain that her Best Friend would be able to take care of himself for a little while, and she had somebody else to visit before she could think about heading south. It had been ages since she’d seen her niece after all. _Cute little Alora! I bet sis is still pissed off because Alora likes me too. Hee hee. I’ll enjoy seeing her face when I show up on her doorstep. Maybe I can catch up with Dekkie after that. Should be in time for our birthday too, if I don’t take too long._ The halfling’s smile widened, as she thought about that, and about previous joint birthday parties. Especially that very first one… 

_Many years ago…_

“Oh!” Poppy exclaimed angrily, after her eleventh failed attempt. “Stupid old poopy-head dummy!” 

“Well…” her Best Friend said, sounding altogether too amused for the halfling’s taste, “it is a dummy after all. But I’m personally rather happy it’s straw inside the head and not poop. The smell, you know.” 

The subject of this conversation was ‘Bob’, one of the practice dummies in the Surthay Assassin’s Guild. There were several of them, which could be used for basic training, whether with missile or melee weapons. This particular one was a humanoid scarecrow-like figure, stuffed with straw, and it was hanging from the ceiling. It had buttons for eyes, a permanent disdainful frown on its painted face, and it was wearing an old and tattered coat and an ancient dark green broad-brimmed hat. Poppy had decided that she was going to pull off a Turmish Twisted Throat-Slit, a very impressive move, and she had energetically leapt at the task. Literally leapt. Unfortunately, she had forgotten about one small detail. “I can’t reach high enough to get to Bob’s neck!” Poppy complained. “I can’t even reach his waist. It’s not fair.” 

“Well, I can’t reach high enough either.” The young Dekaras sounded rather puzzled about his friend’s sudden bad temper, something that was very unusual for the normally cheerful halfling. “I’ve tried, you know that.” The black-haired boy had climbed onto one of the wall-ladders lining the walls of the practice hall, and was currently hanging by his knees from one of the upper rungs, while simultaneously trying to read his homework on Assassins of the Ancients, which described various techniques for killing undead. Studying upside-down went slower then otherwise, but he persisted. As he noticed the unhappy edge in the halfling’s voice he dropped the book to the floor, grabbed a lower rung and then let go with his legs, performing a sort of back flip that eventually landed him on the floor. “Poppy?” he said as he made his way over to the girl. “What’s wrong?”

The halfling sighed. “It’s just that _you_ will grow tall enough eventually that you can reach him. But I won’t. And some of the other kids think I’m no good as an assassin ‘cause of that.” 

“That’s just stupid!” her Best Friend said, his eyes flaring angrily. “Shows how much they know. There have been plenty of great halfling assassins, and you’ll be one of them. I know you will. Anyway, I don’t care what size you are.” 

“Awwww!” Poppy exclaimed with a smile, her good humor reasserting itself as she pounced on her friend to give him an exuberant hug. “Thanks, Dekkie!” 

“You’re welcome. Just one thing…” 

“Yes?”

“Next time you plan to bowl me over, could you maybe give some advance warning? I think my back may be broken, since I can’t move my legs. Of course, that might also be because you’re sitting on them.” 

Once various limbs had been sorted out and the two children were seated more comfortably on the floor, Poppy spoke again. “You never know though. It’s my birthday next week. I’m sure I’ll grow at least a little taller by then.”

“Birthday? Why didn’t you tell me before?” The boy looked outright chagrined. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have spent all that money on that Snake in a Box last week.” 

“I’m telling you now!” Poppy gave her Best Friend a reassuring nudge. “Don’t worry, I know you’re broke. It’s all right. And the snake was great fun, the way you set it up in class, so it pounced up and bit Master Skarmain on the nose! Everybody laughed. Well, everybody except for Master Skarmain. The poor Snake…there wasn’t much left of it once he calmed down.”

“Just the spring, I’m afraid.” A mischievous grin crossed the boy’s face. “It was worth it though, seeing him leap on top of the desk and scream like a banshee. But all the same, I’ll try to think of something for your birthday, I promise, money or not.”

“Hey, I told you not to worry!” Poppy said, reaching out to ruffle her friend’s hair, totally ignoring the annoyed look on his face. “After all, I didn’t get you anything for _your_ birthday. When is your birthday by the way? You’ve never said.” She immediately realized that she’d said something she shouldn’t have, when she noticed the tired, closed-in look that crossed her friend’s face. 

“I don’t know,” he simply said, his black eyes flat and empty. “I can’t remember it anymore. I guess it doesn’t really matter.” 

“Oh!” Poppy said in a small voice. She hadn’t known about that. Well, she knew that some of the stuff her Best Friend had been through had affected him in bad ways. He’d let slip that there were things about his early childhood that he simply couldn’t recall, as if they’d been erased. But she hadn’t known that he couldn’t even remember when his birthday was. _That’s…that’s simply too unfair! Everybody should have a birthday! Say…maybe I can do something about that! He can share my birthday._ The more she thought about it, the more perfect the idea seemed. Yes, she’d fix things all right. No Best Friend of hers should have to go without a proper birthday. Not if Poppy had anything to say about it. 

Poppy spent the next few days thinking about what sort of birthday present she might give her Best Friend. Eventually, she chose the traditional halfling approach. After all, everybody appreciated a nice cake. Of course, a really good cake should have every possible treat on top. Whipped cream, chocolate and strawberries were all good, but she wanted it to be the best cake in the world, and that meant having all their favorite foods inside. Such as meatballs, marzipan, kipper, licorice strings, scrambled eggs, ice cream, bacon and fried potatoes. Pleased with her masterpiece, she placed two large lollipops on top, in the middle of a decorative ring of strawberries and meatballs. Then she carefully placed the cake in a large box and set out to locate her Best Friend. She’d hardly seen him during the past few days; he’d mostly shut himself in his room, apparently hard at work with some project, for she could hear strange noises coming from inside, and occasionally muffled cursing. Poppy had eagerly picked up a few Rashemite curses, and she knew that the ones her friend had recently been using were some of the naughtier ones. 

“Dekkie?” the halfling said, banging on the door. “It’s me. You in there?” 

This time the door immediately opened, and her friend poked his head out. He had a wild and feverish glint in his eyes, his disheveled hair looked as if it hadn’t been combed for days, and his pale and somewhat hollow face led the halfling to suspect that he’d skipped more than one meal. “Poppy!” he exclaimed, sounding incredibly pleased. “I was just about to go looking for you. Meet me in the practice hall in five minutes, would you? I’ve got a surprise for you.” 

Poppy nodded and set out. Once she reached the practice hall, she carefully set the box containing the cake down on the floor, and then waited for her friend to arrive. As he did, her heart made a happy little lurch as she noticed that he was carrying a box of his own, neatly wrapped up with a red ribbon. “Happy Birthday!” he said as he held the box out. “It took me ages to get these working properly, but now I think I’ve got everything right.” 

Too eager to speak, Poppy hastily tore the wrapping paper off and opened the box. Inside she found something very curious. A pair of large springs connected to straps. “You can tie them to your feet,” her Best Friend quickly explained. “I made them myself, with the spring from that Snake in a Box. It’s not much, and I wish I could have bought you something better…but at least you should be able to get back at Bob now. And then just let people _try_ to say you’re not good enough to be an assassin.” 

“I think,” Poppy said, “that it’s the best present I’ve ever had in my life. Thanks, Dekkie! You’re the best. Hey, I’ve got something for you too!” 

“For me? But it’s not my birthday.” 

“Yes, it is!” the halfling stubbornly insisted, placing her hands on her hips as she gave her friend a determined look. “If you can’t remember when your birthday is, it could be any day. So, I’ve decided that it’s today, same as mine. Happy Birthday to you, whether you like it or not!” 

He smiled then, an unusually open and unguarded look in his eyes. “Poppy,” he said, “I’d be a total idiot if I didn’t love it.” 

“Go on then!” Poppy eagerly insisted. “Open the present!” 

“In a second. I thought you’d like to get your revenge on Bob the Dummy first. Just think, you’ll practically fly like an eagle, slitting his unguarded straw throat from above…” 

Poppy thought about this for about three seconds. Then she gave in to temptation. “YAY! Let’s KILL! Go on, you take one spring, I’ll take the other one, and then we can do it together.” 

“Together? What, on one leg each?”

“Sure! Best Friends should do stuff like this together. We’ll just tie our legs together with the ribbon like this, see? Then we won’t wobble too much.” In a few moments the children had backed up against the wall, their spring-equipped legs tied firmly together. “Right!” Poppy said. “Let’s go get him!” 

“Yes,” her friend solemnly stated. “Bob is surely doomed.” 

As they jumped towards the hanging dummy, they went higher and higher with every leap. “It’s working!” Poppy yelled triumphantly. “It’s really working!” 

“Of course! Bob is as good as dead!” They were rapidly approaching Bob the Dummy now, and Poppy thought the frown on that painted face looked more and more worried. Then the children took a final flying leap, laughing loudly, and she caught the straw dummy by the neck, happily tearing the hat off his head. 

“Got him!” she screamed happily, swinging the tattered hat about. She was still clinging to the by now wildly swinging dummy, as was her Best Friend. Actually, she realized that the game had just turned even better. She’d never guessed that an assassin’s victims might also be used for a good swing, but Bob was special in that way. He was swinging rapidly, making the two apprentice assassins practically choke with laughter as he tried to throw them off with wild spins and twists. Eventually, he succeeded, and the children found themselves flying through the air once more, this time heading for the floor. “Oh no!” Poppy exclaimed as she saw in which direction they were heading. “Not my…” 

There was a loud splat. Then there was silence for a few seconds. “Ooops,” Poppy eventually said, sounding a bit sheepish. “Guess I should have put our birthday cake in a safer spot, shouldn’t I, Dekkie?” She snagged a strawberry and swiftly gulped it down.

“Mmmmfff…” her Best Friend said from within the creamy depths of the cake. Then he managed to pull his head out, his face covered with a white mask of whipped cream. “Poppy? Was that a fish I saw down there? And a blood sausage?”

“Yup!” the halfling happily said. “I like kippers, and I know you like those sausages, and I wanted lots of good stuff in our birthday cake. Do you like it?” 

“Oh yes,” her Best Friend said, his voice completely serious. “Never tasted anything like it…” 

_Present Time…_

Poppy smiled happily to herself as she recalled that first joint birthday. _I must make certain to get something really nice for Dekkie. Something fun…he could use a good laugh. Maybe…oh yes! That’s perfect!_ As her skipping increased in pace, the halfling contemplated the thing she’d spotted for sale in a nearby temple. It would be a perfect funny birthday present, which was just what her Best Friend needed in her opinion. _All right, he might grouch about it at first, but it’s really something that can be useful too. He’ll come round. Anyway, I wish I could see the look on his face when he finds out what it does…that would be so cute to watch!_


	51. Entertainment

**Cards Reshuffled 51 – Entertainment**

_Entertainment is a word that holds vastly different meanings for different people. It’s certainly worthy of notice that one person’s entertainment may well be another’s idea of hell. The key to success in this case lies in making sure that you are the one to laugh last._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“So, what do you think? Quite stunning, wouldn’t you say? Of course, I could hardly be otherwise, but I do believe that my masterful work has enhanced even my great natural assets. (Granted I would much prefer my natural form to this one, but if I am temporarily stuck like this I might as well make the best of it.)” Edwina preened and spun around, displaying her new robe. The effect was such a one that Zaerini almost choked on her ale, and she noticed that quite a few of the males present in the Copper Coronet’s common room ogled the wizard unashamedly. More than a few. Just about everybody. Even, and this she was _really_ stunned to see, Anomen. The cleric tried to pretend otherwise, but his eyes kept returning to Edwina’s impressive cleavage, and lingered there. 

Having returned to the Copper Coronet with her purchases the previous evening, Edwina had immediately shut herself inside her room, and she had refused to come out for any reason, not even to eat. When spoken to through the keyhole, she had refused to say anything other than that she didn’t want to be disturbed until her ‘grand work was complete’. Apparently, this was the result of that work. The wizard had used the red cloth and the gold thread to great effect, creating a robe that would have made a magpie drool with desire, if magpies knew how to drool, and that certainly made more than one human mouth water. 

The mage robe was a deep blood red, and its cut was such as to display a female form to its fullest advantage. There was a long slit on either side, which showed off a pair of elegant long legs. _She…she’s even wearing red boots! Sparkly ones! And…was that a bit of garter I just spotted?_ There was cleavage. Lots of cleavage. Lots of very attractive cleavage, and Rini couldn’t help noticing that any more than Anomen could, though she hoped she was less obvious about it. The ruby amulet that the wizard always wore nestled between a pair of highly desirable breasts, drawing even further attention to them. And the bodice fit very well, and very snugly, and the waistline was just perfect, and then there was the way the skirt flared out as the wizard moved, in a highly dramatic fashion. Oh, and there was embroidery too. Gold thread embroidery, winding its way along the full sleeves, cascading towards the waist like a waterfall, encircling the bodice. She had brushed her hair out too, so it tumbled smoothly down her back like a dark flood, and her nails were neatly manicured. 

“You…did you make that yourself?” Rini asked, still staring. “In just one day?”

“Certainly!” Edwina told her, sitting down at the table opposite to the bard, something that displayed even more of her legs. A collective sigh passed through the crowd, but if the wizard noticed it, she didn’t let it show. She certainly didn’t seem to notice it. “Granted, I had to use magic for the routine stitches, but the finer work I did by hand, as it should be done. (I couldn’t let any of the oafish cretins that call themselves tailors in this city touch the garment that should grace my own divine form, after all. No doubt they would give me fleas.)”

“Oh…right. I never was that good at sewing myself, actually.”

“Really?” Edwina leaned forward, in a movement that looked dangerously close to making her spill out of her robe. Her dark eyes were intent and focused, and there were small spots of color in her cheeks. “If you like…I could perhaps spare my precious time to make a little something for you one of these days. (Of course, it would require taking her measurements, very closely.)” 

_You’d like that, wouldn’t you, kitten?_ Softpaws chimed in from her spot on Zaerini’s lap. The cat had her eyes closed and was purring loudly as the bard rubbed her behind her ears, but that didn’t keep her from listening in. 

_Yes…would I ever!_

_That is good…grooming is very important, and mates should help each other out with it._

At this point Anomen finally found his voice again, though his eyes still lingered. He was very red in the face, Zaerini noticed. “You…you vile wizard! Have you…have you not a shred of decency whatsoever? Did not the curse that struck you as punishment for your pride curb your outrageous ways in any way? No doubt you deck yourself out as some cheap courtesan in order to tempt decent men onto the path of Sin!” 

Edwina gave the cleric a look of complete bafflement, and then sneered. “Once again you display your utter lack of control, priest. A man who can control his urges need not fear female garments, or females for that matter. Your ranting and lack of restraint clearly demonstrates just how inexperienced you are, and I pity the poor woman fool enough to take up with you. And I do not expect an uncultured gorilla such as yourself to understand Thayvian high fashion, I’m quite frankly amazed you’ve progressed beyond the stage of the common loincloth made from twigs and leaves. (And I don’t look like anything of the sort.)” 

“You know,” Jan said, “that does remind me of my distant second-cousin, Astor Jansen. Now, he was lost when his parents accidentally got killed by a nasty griffin-attack, and the poor little mite was found by a tribe of giant ants, who raised him as one of his own. Astor, Lord of the Ants, that’s what he used to call himself. He could click his mandibles with the best of them and run as swiftly on two legs as the ants could on six. He’d wrestle the giant termites with his bare hands when they came calling, fighting side by side with his loyal sidekick, Dora the Ant, and nobody could milk a louse like he could, not to mention that he was a mean drummer. When the family tracked him down, he had just gained the favor of the ruling Queen, and wasn’t keen at all on being rescued, just kept trying to bite us. So, he got to stay with the tribe, and is very happy as I understand it. We did persuade him to start wearing a simple loincloth though, he thought it was a bit embarrassing with all the lady ants gawking at him, even if the workers don’t actually reproduce they still have their urges, you know. They try to be polite about it though, just wave their antennae about in suggestive ways, so Ano here could likely learn from them.” 

“I do not have urges!” Anomen snapped. “At least not towards that disgusting wizard, I would sooner die. And I don’t have antennae!” 

“Both of those could easily be arranged…” Edwina murmured, smiling coldly. From his perch on her shoulder Insufferable smirked at the cleric and stuck his fingers up above his head to mimic those precise insectile appendages, then meticulously returned to combing his fluffy fur with his little fingers. 

Jaheira had been eating silently through all of this, by all appearances hoping that concentrating on her bowl of soup would block the conversation out. By now she couldn’t keep quiet any longer though. “Enough!” she said, glaring openly at both combatants. “There are more important matters at hand than your petty bickering.” She lowered her voice so that only the people sitting at their own table could hear her. “I have spoken with Bernard again, and he had some new information for me. This place is more than it appears, and not in a good way. Illegal gambling and prostitution are one thing, but I now have reason to believe that worse things go on in the Copper Coronet’s backrooms. Bernard has spotted prisoners in chains taken in there, and I suspect that this place is involved with the slave trade here in Athkatla. The Harpers cannot and will not allow it to continue, and neither will I.” 

“What?” Minsc boomed, half getting up from the table until Jaheira and Zaerini jointly managed to motion him back into his seat. “Such a thing is an evil that must not be tolerated! If the Worm of Evil Whipwaving has eaten deeply into the Tummy of Athkatla, then we Heroes must be the De-Worming Powder of Freedom and let all run free!” 

The ranger beamed proudly at all his companions after this statement, watching in some confusion as they all deliberately pushed aside plates and set down forks and knives. 

“Yes…” Jaheira eventually said, looking slightly nauseous. “That was more or less the essence of what I meant to say, thank you Minsc.” 

“Boo helped; he comes up with many clever things that Minsc cannot think of himself!” The hamster squeaked helpfully from its spot near Minsc’s plate, where it was nibbling on a bit of cheese. 

“So,” Zaerini said, “what exactly do you want us to do, Jaheira? If what you say is true, then I’m all for it, but this place is swarming with guards. I’d rather not charge them straight on.” 

“That will not be necessary, child,” the druid said, smiling in a pleased manner, green eyes glittering with determination. “We will enter as guests; I have acquired permission for us to do so. Then we will see what we see…and then we will act depending on what we see.” 

Getting past the back door of the Copper Coronet was easy enough, once the adventurers introduced themselves as ‘special guests’ of Hendak. “Finally decided to have some fun, preacher-man?” the guard asked Anomen, leering suggestively. “Should have known you had to be human after all, inside the metal. But three fine-looking ladies just for you, isn’t that a bit of a waste? Or do the gnome and the giant get to share? Could be fun to watch…”

“We are guests,” Rini swiftly said, since she rather feared that Anomen might smash the man’s head in prematurely. “All of us. And what we do inside is our business.” 

“Just step aside and do not bother us, coprophiliac son of a troll!” Edwina said, and swept haughtily past the man, wrinkling her nose. “Your stench would make even an Otyugh shy back!” 

_Gods, she looks cute when she scrunches her nose up like that!_

_So tell her!_ Softpaws said. _She needs to hear it, she’s feeling very confused at the moment, and more than a little miserable. Insufferable says…_ The cat broke off, and then licked her nose in an embarrassed manner. 

_Insufferable says what?_

_Sorry, kitten. I can’t tell you, it’s private. I shouldn’t even have said that much._

_Softy, I’m worried about him…I mean her. If there’s anything I can do to help, I want to know._

_Just keep a close eye on her. And don’t let her be alone too much. She needs you badly right now, but she’s too proud to say so, or to ask for help. Basically, just try to be there as much as possible._

_I am planning to. Believe me, I am really planning to._

There was a dark passage leading ahead, and a flight of stairs going up. Laughter could be heard drifting down from a lit doorway at the top of the stairs, and there was the faint murmur of voices up ahead. “Let’s split up,” the bard suggested. “We can search the place faster that way. Two groups of three, and we’ll meet back here in about half an hour, earlier if possible. Just act inconspicuous, even if you find something bad going on. If we have to fight, we want to be prepared for it.” She paused for a moment, thinking. “Me, Anomen and Edwina go upstairs. Jaheira, Minsc and Jan, you go down that other way.”

“Very well,” the druid said. “Just try to be cautious, all of you.”

“’Course we well! See you later then.” 

The upper floor of the Copper Coronet turned out to be, to put it briefly, a brothel. There was a main room, with a few tables and grubby couches, where scantily clad courtesans conversed with more or less drunk customers. Armed guards could be seen here and there, and Rini wondered if they were there for the safety of the prostitutes, or to keep them from leaving. The courtesans smiled at their customers of course, that was only to be expected. But she thought their eyes looked dead, glassy and hopeless. _Selling your body cannot be a happy life of course…but these people look outright broken._ From the two adjoining corridors, she could hear voices, grunts, laughter, now and then screams. She hoped they were screams of pleasure, but she wasn’t entirely certain, and she shivered violently as the memories came crashing home. _Reiltar. He would love such a place, I’m sure._ She wasn’t even aware that she had moaned under her breath, until she saw the worried looks that her companions were giving her. _He would really like this, people helpless, people in his power, people he could hurt for his own pleasure…_ Now she was really shaking. 

“He is gone,” Edwina said, almost as if the wizard had read her mind. She had moved closer to the bard, and had put her arm about her waist, supporting the shorter half-elf. “He is gone, and he will never touch you again, I swear it.” 

Anomen nodded, squeezing her hand. “The mage is right, for once. The fiend you told us about is no doubt rotting in a hell of his own making, and will never again be able to harm you, my lady. I would die before I let such a thing happen to any woman, much less to yourself.” 

Rini sighed deeply, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands. _Stupid tears. I don’t want to cry about it anymore. Reiltar doesn’t deserve that._ “I know,” she said. “Thank you, both of you. I just…flipped out there for a moment. I’ll be all right now, I think.” 

Anomen was just about to say something, but at that point they were interrupted by a corpulent woman in a shiny yellow dress, and with a predatory smile on what had probably once been a lovely face. “Hello there, my dears!” she said. “What can Madame Nin do for you?” She smiled again. “You are all pretty enough, but you are customers, are you not? So, tell me…what do you want? Or perhaps that should be…who do you want?”

-*-

The air in the small room was cloyingly sweet, and it made Jaheira cough as soon as she entered. _Black Lotus_ , the druid thought as she concentrated on keeping her stomach under control. _I am not surprised, I would expect drugs to be sold in a place like this._ The room was grimy and dark, mostly unfurnished except for a number of rather disgusting pillows on the floor. They had once been in different bright colors, but a large number of Lotus users had done enough unmentionable things to and on them that they were all a uniform ‘stained’. 

There weren’t all that many customers present, probably it was still too early for that. A dwarf lay on his back on one of the pillows, snoring loudly and drooling. A human woman was sitting on another pillow, a broad smile on her face as she stared at nothing in particular. “Pretty colors…” she murmured as Jaheira walked by her. “Lethinan is so nice…making me see all the pretty colors. I’m all sparkly too…and I can fly! Just like a pixie! And look, there’s funny blue tubes coming out of the walls!” She giggled loudly, and then she fell over, making happy gurgling noises. From the sudden stench that momentarily drenched out the lotus smell, that wasn’t the only thing she made either. 

Wrinkling her nose with disgust the druid approached the final customer, a man who was leaning against the wall, watching her quietly with eyes that were glazed, but at least awake. “Hello!” he said as she came closer, and then cocked his head curiously to one side. “Are you real or not? There were a lot of girls in here before wearing only bunches of grapes, but they all turned into flying lizards and flew away. You’re not one of them, are you? Would you like some Lotus? Just go outside and talk to the guard, the stuff is really good today…”

“I am very real,” Jaheira said, side-stepping the fellow’s groping hand as he tried to grasp her wrist. “And so is my quarterstaff, and you will find out exactly how real in three seconds if you do not keep your sticky paws to yourself.” 

“And Minsc will help!” Minsc said, frowning at the drugged man. “You will be nice and polite to Oak Lady Jaheira, or Boo will nibble your eyeballs to make you behave.” He held the small hamster out towards the drugged man, who goggled at it, his eyes very large and round. 

“Aaaaaaah!” the drug addict screamed. “Keep it away! Keep that monster AWAY from me!” 

“Boo is no monster,” Minsc patiently explained. “He is a giant miniature space hamster, but he always fights in the name of Goodness, cracking the Bones of Villainy open to suck out the Marrow of Evil.” 

“It’s as big as an elephant! And it has flaming eyes and fangs like a tiger! And…and tentacles! And three heads!” By now the fellow was trying to press himself backwards through the wall, and he didn’t take his eyes off Boo. The hamster was still sitting in Minsc’s palm, and Jaheira could almost swear that she saw the little beast snicker. _Sometimes I really do wonder if that hamster is more than he appears to be._

“Oh, Boo is very friendly as long as you’re nice,” Minsc said. “He only bites bad people.” 

“And he does it so well too!” Jan said, admiring the hamster. Then the gnome turned to the drugged man, grinning. “Tell me, friend, what kind of entertainment is available in here? Any Griffin-baiting?”

“N-no…” the man said, still pressed against the wall. He was sweating heavily now, and Boo was still making those odd snickering noises. “Not that…there’s the brothel upstairs of course and…”

“Brothel?” Jaheira sharply interrupted. _Zaerini, Anomen and Edwina, together in a brothel…that is a disaster waiting to happen. Should I go after them, perhaps? But the child has learnt a lot…she should be able to control the other two enough that they at least do not blow anything up, apart from possibly each other._

“Yes…and there’s the gambling tables, and the gladiator games, of course.” 

Now this was more like it. “Where are those?” Jaheira asked. 

“Along the passage outside, past the slave pens, and into the arena. You’ll need the week’s password for getting past the guard though. You’d better ask Lethinan, but he only lets regular customers back there. Security, you know.” 

Jaheira thought about this. Hopefully the distasteful owner of the Copper Coronet did not know about her Harper affiliations, but she still doubted that he would trust her with his dirtiest secrets. “Thank you,” she curtly said. “You will go to sleep now, and not talk about this to anybody.”

”I will? Oh, I’d like that, those tentacles on that great hairy thing are really…”

Bonk. 

“He will sleep for at least an hour or so,” Jaheira said once she had checked the unconscious man. Her oak staff had left a bump on his head that he would have for a few days, but otherwise he was all right, and now there would be no risk of him telling anybody about being questioned. “Let us go.” The hamster _was_ snickering, and she was certain it winked at her. 

_Meanwhile…_

“Oh, honestly you two!” Zaerini said. “I’ll be right back, don’t worry.” 

“But my lady!” Anomen protested. “Certainly, you do not mean to…I mean…you…” To his great frustration he felt his cheeks heating as he looked at the young man standing a short distance away. The fellow was tall, broad shouldered and heavily muscular, with wavy golden hair, sky-blue eyes, perfect cheekbones and a ready smile. He was wearing a pair of pink boots. That was it. Well, except for the tiny pink bit of cloth that didn’t do much for his modesty. Even worse, it was very obvious that there was a lot that would have needed covering. _She would not! I am certain she would not! Not with that…that hideous, ghastly creature. Not in a place like this!_

Edwina was seemingly of a very similar opinion. The transformed wizard scowled darkly at the pink-clad prostitute, something that made the fellow smile a trifle more nervously than before, as well as put his hands protectively over the pink posing-pouch. “Have a care, bed-slave!” she told the blond. “You do not wish to offend me, and at the moment I am in an extremely bad mood. If you do anything to annoy my companion, you will find yourself out of a job, caused by multiple fractures of your professional equipment.” 

Zaerini sighed loudly, rolling her eyes. “Just give it a rest,” she said. “Stop bullying poor Jondalar, he’s only trying to do his job. I’m sure you two don’t want to come along and watch.” She lowered her voice until it was almost inaudible, then went on, smiling broadly. “Madame Nin is watching us. Please do nothing to tip her off. Just stay here, both of you, until I come back from my little talk. It shouldn’t take that long.” She gave the reluctant pair a little wave and strolled off. Softpaws remained behind, watching the mage and the cleric with what Anomen could swear was amusement. 

“I’m certain that’s not the only thing that wouldn’t take too long,” Edwina muttered once the bard had disappeared into one of the nearby bedrooms. The wizard tossed her dark hair back across her shoulder with an angry gesture, and she kept her eyes firmly locked on the bedroom door. “He would never be able to satisfy her, nor would any of these Western barbarians. (Not that I wouldn’t scoop his miniscule brain out through his nose if he tried.)” She absentmindedly reached down to rub the small and fluffy head of Insufferable. The monkey was nestled in her cleavage, where it seemed to be highly comfortable. 

Anomen pointedly looked away. He loathed the wizard with all his heart and soul of course, and yet…and yet he had to admit that in this female form she was actually quite comely. Not that it in any way lessened his feelings for his Chosen Lady, but he was only human, and he couldn’t help noticing certain things and… _No! No, no, no! Helm protect me and guard my virtue against sinful thoughts such as these! I cannot possibly be contemplating…I wonder what she looks like without any clothes on? NO! NO! NO! I do not want to wonder about that!_ No, this vile and wicked creature was simply shameless enough to flaunt her body like a harlot, probably hoping to attract the attention of the first man to stumble blindly into her clutches. But he would steadfastly ignore her. His heart knew better, it was simply his body that was reacting automatically and… _NO! DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT THAT!_ No, he had found a True Love already, and now that the annoying mage was inconvenienced in this humiliating fashion, the road should be clear ahead. _Perhaps I could take her home to meet Moira? The Lady Zaerini that is, not the wizard. I am certain they would get along. I do not wish for her to meet Father though. Not if I can help it. No doubt he would make insulting remarks about me far more hurtful than anything the wizard could ever manage. Father has certainly practiced enough. But soon…soon I will be a full Knight of the Order, and I will never again need suffer his taunts. Yes. Very soon._

-*-

Terlen Brandilar was having a night out on the town. As the younger son of a successful merchant prince he had plenty of those, being in possession of a full money pouch, a mostly empty head, and an older brother who could handle all the dull and boring ‘work’ stuff. He had started the evening the same way he usually did, by getting himself pleasantly drunk. To him that meant ‘drunk enough to be almost unable to speak, but still able to walk if holding onto the walls.’ It was a fine line to walk, since if he went too far and drank enough to throw up that tended to really dampen the evening. 

The next item on Terlen’s ‘To Do’ list was ‘Finding Himself A Good Whore’. He had the money to pay for one too, he didn’t need to settle for any old disgusting baggage with no teeth and ten different exotic diseases. Whistling happily to himself he headed upstairs, horribly mangling one of the more popular tunes from the current popular play of the Five Flagons Theatre. 

It was then that he saw her. The Lady in Red. A vision of…of…his wine-soaked brain was utterly incapable of finding the right words, but his body emphatically told him that words were completely unimportant. So was the brain, for that matter. It wasn’t as if it was going to be any help in the upcoming enjoyment, it was simply going to be along for the ride, hooting violently and cheering more important organs on. Smiling broadly, Terlen puffed his not-so-broad chest out, and strode up to the Lady in Red. There was a sour-looking bearded fellow standing next to her, probably a customer who couldn’t afford such a beauty. Unaware of the thin string of drool escaping from his mouth, Terlen reached out with both hands, sighing happily as they grabbed soft but still firm flesh. “Hey, babe!” he slurred, planting a wet kiss on the woman’s neck (he had aimed for the mouth, but his aim was a bit off for some reason.) “Let’s you and me go do some hot riding! I’ll be your stallion, my hot little filly! Hur hur.” 

Something flashed in the woman’s eyes, something that Terlen made the fatal mistake of confusing with lust. “Unhand me at once, or I will do it for you, you hairy little wart on the scrotum of humanity!” Beside her, the armored fellow was scowling darkly at Terlen, but he paid no heed. The fellow would simply have to wait. 

“Not to worry, I’ll pay handsomely!” Terlen assured the Lady in Red. “And you’ll get the ride of your life, as long as you don’t mind getting some…saddlesores. Hur hur!” He let his hands wander once again, this time reaching for the tempting bosom in front of him. Some minute part of his brain was screaming warnings to him, that possibly this woman wasn’t a prostitute at all, that there were angry red spots in her cheeks, and that the hissing and snarling syllables she was muttering under her breath sounded rather ominous. He ignored them. After all, the woman looked like an expensive harlot, so she clearly had to be. And even if she wasn’t, dressing like that certainly made her fair game, as far as he was concerned. It made her look like she was begging for it, and he fully intended to give it to her. She’d come around in the end, he was sure of that. And if she didn’t…well, who would believe the word of a harlot over that of a fine young man like himself? “Here I come, ready or not!” he happily shouted, opening his trousers to show off his means of conquest. 

At this point, several things happened all at once to Terlen Brandilar, all of them painful. A mailed fist connected firmly with his jaw, breaking it with a sound like smashing porcelain, as well as sending him flying into a wall, where he collapsed on the floor in a groaning heap. Simultaneously, his skin erupted into painful pustules, like a large number of small volcanoes going off all at once. Most of them seemed to be concentrated to his face, but not all. Several of them also assured that both sitting down, and walking was going to be an extremely painful affair from now on. As for doing the thing he had originally come upstairs to do, it didn’t bear thinking about. This pain was major, and he was only partially distracted by it by the white-hot agony in his right index finger, as something tiny and furry bit deeply into it, deep enough that tiny teeth felt about to meet with bone. The worst pain though, the very worst, was the one that kept him from screaming, and reduced him to pitiful howls and whimpers, as well as made him unable to even move. 

“You miserable little maggot,” the Lady in Red sneered at the prone man as she bent to pick up the furry fiend that was biting his hand, petting it with a pleased if shaken look on her face. “That should keep you from laying hands on any woman against her will, be she a courtesan or not. (It should keep him from certain other activities as well, and good riddance. We really do not want this one to breed.)” She then turned to the armored fellow. “Not an entirely feeble punch. I still hate you, of course.”

“Likewise,” the man said. “’twas common courtesy that made me act, I could not see any woman treated such, not even a twisted she-devil such as yourself.” 

“Good. I’m glad we understand each other.” The Lady in Red bent to pick up the second furry animal, the black one that was causing the intolerable pain. “And as for you,” she told Terlen, “that should teach you not to dangle tempting toys in front of a cat unless you really want her to play with them.”


	52. Beastmaster

**Cards Reshuffled 52 – Beastmaster**

_Sometimes, it may happen that part of the group is incapacitated for some reason, be it by fatigue, wounds, disease or the aftereffects of an excellent party. If that should happen, it is important that those party members who still remain standing are capable of working together, using their strengths to their advantage. Hopefully without driving each other insane in the process._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

She still felt…cold. Edwina pulled her robe a little closer, but it didn’t seem to help much. Perhaps she should have chosen a more…covering one. For more than one reason. Tiny shivers kept making her tremble every now and then, despite her best efforts to suppress them. _I’m just a bit unsettled. That’s all. I’m a Great Wizard, no matter what gender I happen to currently be, and I’m not afraid of anything. I’m not. So there._ And yet she couldn’t drive the dark thoughts away, the thoughts of what most probably would have happened to her if she hadn’t had magic with which to defend herself, at least if she had been alone. _That disgusting creature, that filthy piece of snot straight out of a troll’s nose, he would have…it is intolerable! Of course, not every man is possessed of my own considerable charm and skill at seduction, but to try to use force…_

Edwina swallowed heavily, hoping that nobody noticed. A would-be rapist would have disgusted her as a male too, certainly. Especially after having seen the look in her Hellkitten’s eyes as she was brought out of Reiltar’s dungeon. But now she completely understood the horror that she had previously only been able to guess at, and she wished she didn’t. _Is this what it’s like for women all the time? That you have to be constantly on guard? That there are always oafish simpletons like that one, who cannot grasp the concept of a simple word like ‘no’, and who think that they have a right to put their grubby paws all over you just because you happen to have a stunning body?_ Yes, now she understood. She could feel it in her bones. Certainly, people had tried to kill her before. That was all part of being an adventurer, or a Red Wizard for that matter. But this…this was somehow worse. This was being seen as something not quite human, a toy to be used for somebody else’s pleasure. She shivered again, wishing she could forget how it had felt. Anger, that was fine. But this…

Unconsciously, her hand crept towards her throat, caressing the ruby amulet that hung there. As always, it made her feel a little better. As if all would be well somehow, regardless of how bad things seemed at the moment. The amulet felt warm to the touch, and as she touched it light flickered briefly inside of it, responding to her, offering wordless reassurance. Edwina smiled faintly and tightened her grip on the ruby. 

“Edwina?” Zaerini asked, turning towards the wizard. “Are you all right?”

“Oh yes,” Edwina hastily said, trying to look casual. “Certainly. Er…why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Well, you haven’t said anything at all over the past few minutes. Actually, you’ve hardly said a word after my talk with Jondalar.” Her eyes suddenly widened. “Please don’t tell me that you honestly think I did anything other than talk with him? I mean, he was pretty good looking, but he was wearing a pink thong for crying out loud! Really, how come there are all sorts of different girls here, but just one man for the female customers? And one wearing a pink thong at that? I call that unfair, don’t you?” She suddenly seemed to hear what she was saying and blushed furiously. “Er…not that I would want to buy the services of a courtesan, of course. You know I don’t, don’t you? It’s just the principle of the thing. Well, at least he was able to help us out, what with the stuff he told me.” She frowned, looking Edwina straight in the eyes. “Something is wrong. I can tell. Won’t you tell me about it?” 

_Go on, boss_ , Insufferable suggested from his perch on the wizard’s shoulder. _Tell her. You’ll feel better afterwards._

_No! I don’t want her to think of me as some kind of weak and useless fool!_

_Naw, she won’t do that!_ The little monkey patted the wizard’s ear with its tiny, clawed hand. _Wouldn’t it be nice if it was her doing this? What you need right now, boss, is a nice grooming session._

_I’ve told you before, neither of us have fleas._

_Doesn’t have to be fleas, boss. Maybe you could…I don’t know…ask her to braid your hair or something?_

“Maybe later,” Edwina told the red-haired half-elf walking next to her, after giving her familiar an annoyed look. “Not that there’s anything I can’t handle of course. You know nothing fazes me. (Well, almost nothing. Except possibly for that completely mesmerizing little thing she does when she yawns…)” 

Zaerini nodded, her face utterly serious. “Of course I do. Later it is then.” 

Yes, Edwina reasoned, perhaps she would tell the bard at least a little something of what had occurred upstairs. She had managed to convince Anomen to push the offending brothel visitor under a bed in a currently unused bedroom, stating that Zaerini would most likely be upset if she heard what had happened, and the cleric had reluctantly agreed. Oh, it had been obvious how he ached to spread the embarrassing tale around, but he had agreed. And once the body was under the bed, and the cleric had turned his back, Edwina had paused to make certain that the body in question became a _dead_ body, courtesy of the knife she carried for cutting up spell components and such. She hadn’t wanted to use her magic, that would be too noisy and Anomen might have noticed and raised objections. And there had been a sense of rightness about doing it this way, and a temporary sense of satisfaction. It hadn’t been enough though. That sense of unease, of discomfort, it was still there, and vengeance hadn’t managed to get rid of it as she had hoped it would. So many conflicting emotions whirled in her head that she felt extremely confused. Perhaps it would indeed be a good idea to talk it over with Zaerini, though obviously she needn’t go into every detail of it. Briefly, she bit her lip. No need to mention the feeling of combined dread and humiliation for example. _I’m all right now, anyway. I just need to sort things out._

She absent-mindedly fingered her amulet again as she followed the half-elf through the corridor in the backrooms of the Copper Coronet. _I really wish I could ask Teacher Dekaras about all of this. Even if it meant having him see me like this._ Her mentor would certainly be able to think of some way to help her, or at least say something to make her feel better. And it would be less embarrassing to admit to him exactly how bothered she had been by the whole incident than to the woman she loved. _He’d fix things, somehow. I know it. I wish he were here._

Lost in her thoughts as she was, Edwina hardly noticed when they met up with Jan, Minsc and Jaheira, who were waiting in a side hallway. Nor did she pay much attention when Zaerini quietly explained about how the prostitute she had spoken to had explained about how the Copper Coronet brothel worked. He himself was there voluntarily, but more than one of the others were slaves, something that had made the half-elf quite angry when she heard about it. The anger was still evident in her voice, and in the way she scowled when she spoke of it. 

_Teacher Dekaras never used to like the slave trade either. I remember that he mentioned it more than once. I suppose it reminded him too much of other things._

By now Zaerini was telling the others about how the prostitute she had spoken with had told her about how there were also gladiatorial slaves, slaves kept for the sole purpose of dying and killing for the entertainment of others. They were apparently kept somewhere downstairs, under close guard, and you’d need a password to get inside. Fortunately, the man had known it, and hadn’t minded sharing it. Unfortunately, the guards inside would certainly attack anybody entering whom they didn’t recognize, password or not, and they were under strict orders not to relinquish the slaves to anybody.

“It is not right to keep people in chains and cages!” Minsc angrily said. “Little Rini, we must hurry to break these poor people out, and to give them swords so they can help kick evil Slaver Butts, just like Minsc and Boo!” 

“I mean to,” the half-elf said, her voice still angry as she stalked towards the door leading to the gladiator quarters, the door that Jaheira’s group had found earlier. “I really mean to. I’ve seen enough chains and cages these past few weeks to last me a lifetime.” She knocked hard on the door, and Edwina almost thought she could see sparks flickering in the air at her touch, she was that angry. 

“Yeah?” a voice growled from behind the door. “Password?”

“It’s ‘Spartacus’,” the half-elf flatly stated. “Now let us in.” As the door started to slowly pull open, she took a step backwards, allowing Minsc, Jaheira and Anomen to move forward to flank her, even as Jan and Edwina readied themselves behind her. “Careful with your spells,” she told the two mages in a low voice. “We don’t want any of the slaves to get hurt.” 

As the door opened, Edwina just had time to glimpse an unshaven face beneath a heavy helmet. “Hey!” the guard said. “You aren’t…” Then he was flying backwards through the air, as Jaheira’s quarterstaff struck him firmly in the chest. He slammed heavily into the barred door of a prison cell and was silent. The battle was on, as four more guards rushed to their fallen comrade’s aid, two of them mages. Edwina fought as well as she knew how, but her thoughts kept trying to drift away, making it difficult to focus properly on her spells. _Have to concentrate! Have to!_ Still, she had almost readied the words to a spell, and was preparing to cast it when she broke off in mid-chant, feeling horrified as she realized she had almost launched a Fireball into the middle of the melee. _I could have harmed the others…I could have harmed her!_ Still shaken by her mistake, she failed to pay proper attention, and a glancing glow to her head took her completely by surprise. 

When Edwina regained consciousness, it was to the unpleasant sensation of a throbbing head, with eyeballs that felt on the point of dissolving into pools of agony. However, there was also the pleasant sensation of realizing that said head was leaning against Zaerini’s lap, and that the half-elf was looking worriedly down at her, smiling in relief. Behind her, Edwina could just about make out Anomen’s angry scowl, and she felt a small surge of triumph. _Choke on that one, Helm-boy! Perhaps I should get wounded more often if this is the result…_

_You’d just better not_ , Insufferable angrily protested. The little monkey was sitting on Edwina’s chest, giving the wizard a stern look. Then it grinned. _But I’m happy you’re alive, boss! Here, let me give you a hug!_ Before Edwina could protest, the monkey hurried up towards her face, and then hugged her nose tightly, finishing off with a very wet and soppy kiss on her forehead. _There! Feel all better now?_

_Monkey, how shall I put this…it is not your kisses that I dream about at night._

_So, go for it then! It’s not my fault that you humans complicate things. Just grab her tightly and smooch her! And then some sweet loooove!_

“Hey there…” Zaerini said, smoothing Edwina’s dark hair back from her forehead. “Feeling better?”

“I feel conscious at least. Though with this headache, I’m almost starting to regret waking up.” 

“Well, I’m happy you did.” The bard flashed Edwina a swift grin. “Really, you’ll have to stop getting hit on the head. A mage needs an intact mind, you know. Here, let me help you up.” 

As she staggered to her feet, Edwina noticed that the room they were in was dominated by one thing. Cells. Rows and rows of barred cells all along the walls. There were people in the cells, watching the adventurers and the dead guards on the floor. Some looked frightened, some angry, some apathetic. There were mostly younger men and women, though there were some older ones as well. And then…there were the children. Not very many of them, but they were there. Edwina stared into one cage, where a small boy sat hunched up on the floor, knees drawn up protectively to his chest. His dirty blond hair hung lankly against his thin and dirty cheeks, and his eyes were dull with pain and fear. _When I was that age, I was safe. Happy, too. I never thought…I never saw anything like this. There were slaves about of course, but…nothing like this._ “Why are they all still in there?” she asked, unable to take her eyes off the child who mutely looked back at her. 

“The cells are locked,” Jan explained, “and I’m afraid the locks are too complex for me. But their leader, Hendak, that’s the big scarred fellow in the loincloth over there, he says that there’s somebody called ‘The Beastmaster’ around here, the keeper of the animals used in the arena, and that this person has the key. We were just waking for you to wake up before we went to get it.” 

“Why do you even care, Red Wizard?” Anomen contemptuously said. “Your kind has never been known for compassion. I would have expected you to approve of vile practices like this, it cannot be that different to what you are used to.” 

The words weren’t even a proper insult as such; they ought to have slid easily off her. And yet…they stung, stung badly. She couldn’t even explain to herself why they should hurt so much, it wasn’t as if she had any reason to care what the others thought, was it? Except for her of course. Her Hellkitten was different. “You know nothing of what I am used to,” the wizard spat. _I will not explain. He has not earned that._ “And as for the practices of Thay, I suggest you hold your fat mouth right now, or I will introduce you to some of the more exotic ones to further your education.” _Pity I don’t know how to cast a Flensing. I’d like to peel the skin off his ugly face, layer by layer, like an onion. Then maybe he’d stop prancing around her and go hide in a hole somewhere like the unsightly little mole that he is. I’d do that in a heartbeat. But children in cages, there I draw the line. That shouldn’t be too complicated to understand, even for his miniscule mind._ She turned away from the cage, forcing herself to look away from the child, and made a dedicated effort to sneer coldly at Anomen. “And I would enjoy every single moment of it, especially the bit when the fat melts clear off your face and oozes into your clothes.” _Never let them see it when they have managed to hurt you. Keep the pain hidden inside, where none will see. Strike back instead, as hard as you can, and don’t let them see your blood. Don’t give them that satisfaction._ She kept the sneer up with some effort, but it felt as if she was crumbling to pieces inside, and she didn’t know how much longer she would be able to keep her façade up. _Home. I wish I were home._

-*-

Jaheira could sense them up ahead. The animals, caged in, shut away from fresh air and sunlight, enslaved just as the poor people in the cells behind them were. The druid forced herself to breathe calmly, as she reached her senses out, carefully feeling ahead. A couple of bears. A panther, and a wolf. No…more than one wolf. And…a lioness. There were other creatures too, but not pure animals. Monsters of some kind, she guessed. Hendak, the unofficial leader of the slaves, had explained how the ‘shows’ in this filthy place were conducted. Sometimes there would be regular gladiator shows, with warriors forced to fight each other to the death. Sometimes, the battles would be against dangerous predators, or captured monsters. Sometimes, unarmed women and children died in the bloody sand of the arena, for the amusement of the vicious crowd. 

The group of adventurers were entering that very arena right now, in fact. It was a round pit, the bottom covered with sand, that was still moist here and there from recent battles. As the druid looked upwards, she could see seating places above the pit area, where the onlookers would be seated. In fact, she thought she could catch a glimpse of moving shapes up there right now, and here and there a pale face, nervously watching. They would not be expecting anything like this, of that she was certain. 

The two wolves burst silently out of the shadows, released from one of the cages leading into the arena. Winter wolves, their fur was the pure white of newly fallen snow, and their breath puffed out of their open mouths, cold like the northern wind. They have been starved, just like the human slaves, Jaheira thought as she noticed the jutting ribs of the two animals. _Starved so they will attack on sight._ Concentrating as hard as she could, she focused on reaching the half-crazed and pain-filled minds of the two animals, sending images of calm, of the peace of running swiftly across frozen fields, of resting in the den with a belly full of meat. Suddenly hesitating, the wolves slowed down, then stopped, watching her with confusion in their amber eyes. “Come now, friends,” Jaheira murmured, “you do not wish to fight us. You know me, you trust me, I am a sister of your pack and I will aid you. Come with us…” Finally, the two wolves padded over to the druid, and she lightly placed her hands on the two great heads, offering the animals further reassurance. “They will aid us now,” she said, her heart heavy. “I would not send them into battle, not when they are ill, but they wish it themselves. The Beastmaster is ahead of us, and he has given them much pain. They will fight.” 

“Wow!” Jan said, his eyes round with amazement. “That was a very impressive thing you did there, Jae! Can you do it with other beasts as well?”

“Not with griffins, if that is what you were thinking of,” Jaheira sighed. 

“Now, now, Jae! I’m almost starting to think that you think I have a griffin obsession! Shame on you. No, no, that’s not what I meant at all. I just thought that poor Boo seems very nervous about being in this nasty place of animal captivity, that’s all, and that I might be able to ease his mind. I’ll just give it a try, purely for altruistic reasons of course. I’ve got this new magical turnip you see, it’s a real miracle worker!” The gnome took a piece of string with a small turnip tied to it out of his pocket and started swinging it back and forth in his hand, holding it up so it would be visible to Boo. The hamster was sitting on Minsc’s shoulder, looking curiously at the turnip with his shiny black eyes. “You are feeling ssssssleeeepy…” Jan said. “Verrrrry sssssleeeeepy…I am your new Masssssterrrr…” 

“Stop that, tiny gnome!” Minsc protested, clamping his hand over Boo’s eyes. “You will not addle the clever head of my Boo with your tricks, he must be awake to nibble up the Eyeballs of Evil, not sleepy-headed with his own eyes closssseeeddd…” The ranger’s eyes rolled backwards into his head as he watched the spinning turnip. “Oh…Minsc isss sssssleeepyy…nighty night…” 

There was a sound like thunder as the large Rashemite crashed to the ground, snoring peacefully, and Zaerini just barely managed to leap out of the way in time not to be crushed. Edwina wasn’t quite so lucky, and the wizard hopped about on one leg, clutching her aching foot in her hands. “Look what you’ve done, you moronic miniature hypnotist! Now how is he going to help us fight? You should have known better than to apply your turnip-obsessed barnyard magics on the weak-willed! (Not even a proper Dire Charm. I call that tacky.)” Boo squeaked angrily from on top of Minc’s head, sounding as if he agreed more or less with the wizard’s estimate of the situation. “In fact,” Edwina went on, “we’re lucky that none of the rest of the assorted simians around here succumbed to you…” At that moment, her eyes accidentally locked on the still spinning turnip, a broad smile spread across her face and she collapsed in a heap on the floor, deeply asleep. A loud crashing sound behind her made Jaheira spin around, just in time to see Anomen succumb to the same fate. The cleric was making snuffling little noises, and his legs were twitching in his sleep. Possibly he dreamt that he was running. Jaheira lunged desperately for the turnip, but it was too late already. By the time she had caught hold of it, Zaerini had already landed on top of Edwina, snuggling up against the wizard in her sleep with a rather pleased smile on her face. By her side, a sleeping Insufferable had wrapped his tiny arms around the neck of Softpaws, and Jaheira didn’t think that the sounds the cat was making in her sleep were happy purrs. Especially not since the monkey now and then nibbled at her ear.

“Oooops…” Jan said with a sheepish grin on his face as he stopped the turnip’s spinning. “Guess I overdosed.” 

“SQUEAK!” Boo said, sounding extremely disapproving. Jaheira felt moved to agree with the hamster, though it took her a few moments to gather her thoughts properly. 

“You…you idiot!” she eventually growled, grasping the gnome wizard by the collar and shaking him. “What in the name of the Oak Father were you thinking, putting them all to sleep like that? Have you any idea what a precarious situation you have placed us all in with your antics?”

“Well,” Jan said, smiling that infuriating smile of his, “at least they’ll all get a good rest, won’t they? I’m sure they’ll thank me afterwards. People get far too little sleep these days, that’s why so many people are so grumpy. You should try it too, Jae, I’m sure you’d feel much improved afterwards!” 

Snarling wordlessly, the druid let go of Jan, and turned to her other companions. Alas, all her efforts to revive them were in vain. They were all deeply asleep, and didn’t seem at all aware of her presence, nor to her shouts or her attempts to shake them awake. Zaerini barely stirred, muttering ‘Go ‘way, Immy, I’m sleepin…’, and Minsc just kept snoring. Anomen didn’t even twitch. As for Edwina, her one reaction was to pull the sleeping half-elf closer towards her and say ‘Want my Mr Bobo…’, and Jaheira didn’t even want to think about what that might mean. Goodness knew her ward’s love life was complicated enough as it was already, without further complications added into it. 

“Aw,” Jan said, “isn’t that sweet? Makes me remember when I was a wee gnome…and Ma Jansen would tell me stories every night.”

“Sweet does not come into it,” Jaheira said. “We have a serious situation here, and you are going to help me sort it out.” _Silvanus help me, the gnome is the only one available, so I suppose I will have to make do._ “Since we cannot wake the others, you and I are going to have to deal with the Beastmaster on our own, before he can take us by surprise, or before Lethinan discovers those guards we killed earlier.” 

“What? You and me? On our own?”

“Yes Jan. On our own. Since the others are all _asleep_ , thanks to you. I do not like the idea of leaving them, but the wolves should be able to guard them well. I have asked them, and they are willing to do so, though they would rather fight.” 

“SQUEAK!”

“Oh yes,” Jaheira added in a slightly weary voice. “And you too, Boo.” The hamster preened proudly, puffing his small and furry chest out. For some reason, Jaheira suddenly felt certain that he would be quite as dangerous as the wolves to anybody who tried to hurt Minsc or Minsc’s ‘witch’. 

There was a narrow corridor leading out of the arena, barred with a heavy gate that soon yielded to Jan’s lockpicks. The smell of penned animals grew stronger, strong enough to sting Jaheira’s nostrils as she carefully advanced through the dark passage. Finally, she emerged into what had to be the kennels. Snorts, snarls and growls greeted her as the caged animals sensed her presence. But there was somebody else there too, a two-legged shape that she could make out beyond the cages. A slim, two-legged shape, pointy ears clearly visible amidst tangled brown hair. It was an elf, and his grey eyes were cold as he watched the approaching half-elf. By his side sat a large lioness, a magnificent animal, proud and strong. The elf calmly rested one slim hand atop the animal’s head, rubbing it behind the ears. “I do not recognize you,” he said. “Who are you?”

“I,” Jaheira said, matching the elf’s clipped tones word for word, “am here to free the gladiators from their cells. Hand me the key you carry or suffer the consequences!” Her very being felt revulsion at the thought of an elf acting such, enslaving men and beasts alike, using his spiritual connection with nature to twist animals into his slaves. For she could sense Tabitha’s mind, and she knew that the lioness was not a willing pet but had been forced into obeying the orders of the Beastmaster, with no concern for her own wishes. Both the elven part of her and her druidic faith felt disgust at what they saw. 

“Foolish half-breed,” the Beastmaster sneered. “You will never escape these cells alive. In fact, I think I may have you join my pets, once you have been properly subdued! Tabitha! Obey your master, slaughter them!” The lion snarled, baring her long fangs, and the Beastmaster raised the elegant bow he carried across his shoulder, readying an arrow.

“Hold it right there, mister!” Jan said, as he stepped out from behind Jaheira. To the druid’s chagrin, she noticed that he was once again holding up that ridiculous turnip-on-a-string. “Is this the way to behave, I ask you? Why it reminds me of when my cousin, Rex Jansen, tried to be a lion tamer. Look at the turnip now…anyway, Rex thought that lion taming would be a great career. Making lions dance and leap at his command, sticking his head into their mouths, that sort of thing. He got the chair, he got the whip, he got the little hoops and stools for the lion to jump through and climb onto, he even got himself a huge mustache and a tigerskin loincloth. Watch the turnip spinning, isn’t that nice? So, Rex just lacked one thing, namely the lion itself. Naturally he sent off for one from that fine company called ACME Deadly Predators. That’s where we bought Jaheira here, by the way.” 

Jaheira tried to object to this, but the gnome’s monotonous babbling made it extremely difficult to focus on what she meant to say. The Beastmaster seemed to be in a similar state, his eyes had gone glassy, and he was rubbing his head in confusion. 

“So,” Jan went on, twirling his turnip, “Rex awaited the post eagerly every day, remind me to tell you about the vicious people that work in postal service some time, and finally there was a big box waiting on the porch. Eager as a young tot, Rex tore the box open, only to find out that he’d forgotten about something very important.” 

“Whu…” the Beastmaster groaned. 

“Why, simply that the lion wasn’t tamed yet, dear fellow! It said so in the advert from ACME, ‘taming not included’, even if the letters were very small. Not to mention that he’d missed the note on the box that said ‘This Side Up’, and that was upside down. The lion was annoyed enough about having traveled upside down all the way from Calimshan, and having traveled on an empty stomach didn’t improve its mood very much. Well, Rex did learn that part of the trick that included sticking your head into the lion’s mouth, but he never got to the second part where you get to take it out again. Pity, but at least the lion got a nice dinner out of the deal and fell deeply asleep, blocking the front door of the Jansen home for three days. We had to enter via the chimney, which taught me that all ways are good except those that end up in a lion’s stomach…”

Thump. The Beastmaster dropped to the ground, deeply comatose, and as he did so Tabitha gave him a long and considering look. Yellow fire flared in the lioness’ eyes, as the elf’s hold over her was broken by his mental disintegration, and she opened her hot red mouth to give a low growl. Before Jaheira even had the time to think about trying to soothe the animal, it was all over, and Tabitha was already enjoying her meal. 

“My my!” Jan said, “he couldn’t have been listening very closely to my story, I think. How very rude. I’m sure I warned him about untamed lions…” 

“Yes,” Jaheira said, not taking her eyes off the eating lion. “I am sure you did.” Eventually Tabitha had finished, and retreated into the shadows, pulling bits of the Beastmaster with her, presumably in case she woke up later and felt a bit hungry. Jaheira advanced carefully, making certain the lion wasn’t about to attack, and picked up the small metal item she saw gleaming tantalizingly on the ground amidst the gore. Wiping it off, she then retreated, motioning for Jan to follow her. 

“Pretty nifty work, Jae!” the gnome happily chattered. “Of course, you couldn’t ever have pulled it off without me and my amazing turnip. I’m sure it must have special magical properties for it to work so well, I tried it before with another one in front of the mirror and all that happened was that I got a bit drowsy…Hey!” 

The turnip sailed through the air, propelled by the druid’s mighty throw, and landed in a cage containing a small and extremely ugly gibberling, that immediately gobbled it up. “My lucky turnip…” Jan complained. “I’m sure I’ll never find another one like it.” 

“Oh?” Jaheira said, with a smile that closely resembled Tabitha’s, except that there were no bloodstains - yet. “Good.” 

A short while later, Zaerini was sitting up, rubbing her eyes sleepily, as she tried to make sense of things. Minsc, Edwina and Anomen were still blissfully asleep on the floor. “What happened?” she asked, yawning loudly. “Did I miss something?”

Jaheira thought about Tabitha’s dinner for a moment. “Nothing,” she said, “that you would have wanted to see.” Then she thought about Jan’s story. “Or hear, for that matter.”


	53. Freedom

**Cards Reshuffled 53 – Freedom**

_Freedom is certainly one of the most precious things in the world. You cannot really appreciate its true value until you have lost it, and once you have lost it you will do just about anything to regain it. And once you have regained it, you will fight to the death in order not to lose it again._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“You have the key! You have it! Thank the Gods! And thank you truly, my friend, for what you have done.” Hendak, the leader of the Copper Coronet slaves, was an impressive-looking warrior. Tall and muscular, his body was covered with scars that bore silent witness to the many battles he had lived through, and his face was hard and wary. Yet right now there were tears streaming freely down it, as Jaheira swiftly unlocked the doors to the other cells, and his hands were trembling as he grasped a sword that had belonged to one of the fallen guards. Other gladiators were coming up to him now, and he straightened up, raising his sword into the air. “We are free, my brothers! Go, now, and free the women! Hendak will strike his blade into the heart of our so-called owner, so that he shall never trouble you again! Go and savor your freedom!”

The rest of the slaves roared at his words, their faces filled with joy, but also with terrible anger. “Praise be! We are free! Free at last!”

“Free!” 

“Free!” 

“Death to the slaver! DEATH!” 

Hendak momentarily turned towards the adventurers, and there were still traces of tears on his cheeks, but his eyes burned with a fierce light. “Thank you again, my friends. Now to the task of killing that fiend, Lehtinan. Assist me if you wish. Otherwise, stand and watch the vengeance of Hendak be fulfilled!” Once again, he addressed the slaves. “The time has come! Now, we go! For freedom!” 

And the slaves roared again, a cry loud enough that it almost seemed to make the rotting foundations of the Copper Coronet tremble. “FREEDOM!” 

The battle was short, but bitter. The slaves didn’t have too many weapons to start with, but between them they had many, many years’ experience of fighting for their lives, and they really had nothing to lose. The guards put up some resistance, but in the end they either fell or fled. Zaerini and her friends helped out as they could, smoothing the way for the rebelling slaves, granting them access into the inn proper. And so, it came to be that Hendak the Gladiator came face to face with Lethinan at last, the cruel master of the Copper Coronet. The innkeeper’s face was twisted up with frustrated rage, and he was literally spitting as he spoke, threatening his former slave with death and terrible punishment. He was wrong of course. Without his mercenaries to back him up, Lethinan did not stand a chance against the warrior, and he soon died, vomiting his own blood up as he was impaled on Hendak’s blade. 

Rini watched, trying to slow her own breathing after the battle. As had happened before, the sight of the blood, the sharp tang of it in her nostrils made her feel…excited. Her heart was beating faster, she wanted more of the smell, wanted it on her hands, on her face, to feel life extinguished by her blade, by the spells she could command, snuffed out like a candle and… _No! No, I don’t want that! That’s not me, that’s the beast talking, the madness._

_Steady kitten_ , Softpaws warned her, a soothing presence in her mind. _Remember your brother._

_Yes…Sarevok…don’t want to end up like Sarevok…_

_The battle is over, kitten. There is no more fighting here. Look, it is all over._

The half-elf blinked the sweat out of her eyes, looking about her in some confusion. Her familiar was right, the battle was indeed over, only the moans of the wounded and the blood on the ground remained. Dimly, she was aware of Hendak thanking her and the others for their help, offering some money and nice spell scrolls that Lethinan had kept on his person as reward. Apparently, he intended to take over the tavern for himself, and to try to return as many slaves as possible to their former homes. Then his face turned grim. “I wish I did not have to ask, but there is one more task that needs doing. The slavers remain at large within Athkatla, hidden at their base here in the slums. They have many children, yet, that they retain as slaves. I would ask of you to rid the city of this infestation once and for all.”

_Children…slaves…nobody should have to be a slave, but especially not a child._ “I will,” she said, and there was something in her voice, an eagerness that once again reminded her uncomfortably of Sarevok at his most bloodthirsty. 

_The children, kitten_ , Softpaws, leaping into her mistress’ arms said, looking steadily at her with her green eyes. _They are the important thing, not the slavers. Don’t you agree?_

The fires flickered and died as she recalled the hopeless looks on the faces of those children she had already found caged below the Copper Coronet. _Yes…yes, of course they are. The children. Must help the children._ “Yes,” she repeated, her voice calm once more, the fire in her blood mercifully dimmed. No longer did the smell of blood entice her, it revolted her, and she was grateful for it. “Yes, we will try to help the children.” 

Hendak smiled at her, his eyes warm. “I thought you would. I would go with you myself, but I must stay here, to keep this place a safe haven for those too weak to defend themselves against the thugs on the street. I dare not leave at the moment. The compound is not far from here...a dry-docked boat just across the way on the east side of the slums. It may be risky to approach openly. There was talk of a secret passage to the sewer connecting the Coronet to the slaver base, but I do not know where it might be. I know nothing of the defenses of the place inside, however. My stay there was brief and long ago.”

“Minsc is happy that we will save the little children!” the ranger stated. “But he is boiling with rage that children are kept in chains! That is not right, and little Boo is quivering with righteous Hamster Fury, so that Minsc is quite worried he will shake all his pretty fur off!” Then Zaerini could feel the giant berserker’s hand on her shoulder, steadying her. “Minsc also thinks his Witch needs some rest before the next battle. It is all right for Minsc to lose his head in a fight, he doesn’t use it anyway, but a Witch needs to be calm and rested. Minsc will tuck his Witch in good and make some nice hot Rasheman tea, using Boo’s best recipe.” Before the bard knew it, Minsc had easily picked her up in his enormous arms and was carrying her towards the stairs. Eyes wide with surprise, she could only watch as the amused faces of her friends receded behind her, except for Softpaws, who padded silently behind the ranger, purring loudly. Clearly the cat agreed that she should get some rest. _Is this really what leadership is supposed to be like? Somehow this sort of thing never happens in the stories…but I wouldn’t want to hurt Minsc’s feelings, and I guess I am pretty exhausted…_

Rest certainly did feel good, and when Rini woke up some time later, she did feel much better. She yawned, stretching carefully to work all the kinks out of her back, and then got out of bed, carefully prodding the roof of her mouth with her tongue. The pitch-black tea that Minsc had brought her had no doubt been made with love, but it had also been blisteringly hot, not to mention strong enough to make her ears feel like they were about to wilt. 

“Oh, Minsc is sorry!” Minsc had said. “Rasheman tea takes practice, Minsc should have said…”

“That’s…that’s all right, Minsc,” Zaerini had said, trying to catch her breath, wondering if the top of her head was about to come off. “I’m sure I’ll…get used to it…”

Minsc had beamed proudly at this, as if he was a mother duck and she was his favorite duckling. “Minsc will make it every night then, so his Witch will sleep really good and feel all hot and snuggly! It also is good for fur, Boo drinks it often and look how nice and shiny he is!” The half-elf had met the glittering black eyes of the hamster, and for a moment she thought Boo gave her a look of fellow suffering. Well, ‘shiny fur’ or not, at least the terrible tea had helped her sleep well, and now she felt about ready to go after those slavers. Having pulled her clothes on and brushed out the worst tangles in her hair, she decided to go search for her companions. The sun was low in the sky, so she must have slept for at least a couple of hours. Hopefully, they hadn’t all wandered off while she slept. 

As she approached the stairs, she could hear voices coming from below, and easily recognized Minsc, Anomen and Jan. From what she could tell, it sounded as if Jan was telling a story, one involving soap, paladin basic training, and inflatable women. Anomen’s groans were clearly audible. Shaking her head, she decided to wait until a little later before joining them. As she was about to turn around to enter her room again, she heard something behind her. “Oh, hi Edwina,” she said, not turning around. 

“How did you know it was me?” Edwina asked, sounding rather put out. “I’ll have you know I was being extremely sneaky and stealthy, moving as quiet as a shadow. (Damn. This ‘stealth’ business is so much trickier than it looks.)” 

“Well,” the half-elf said as she turned around, giving the wizard a small grin, “I guess you have to be really good in order to sneak in high-heeled sparkly red boots. Keep practicing though, you may get there eventually.” 

“Hmpf,” Edwina said, tapping said sparkly red boot against the floor. “I suppose high fashion means sacrificing a little practicality…a pity. Still, it should be possible to outfit them with some sort of spell to muffle noise – or would that be cheating? Yes…it probably would. And besides, it could wear off at an awkward moment.” She twined her hair a little awkwardly between her fingers. “How is it that you are not downstairs, guzzling beer with all those witless barbarians and listening to the gnome tell tall tales about a family large enough to give even a rabbit pause and start thinking about contraceptives?” 

“I just woke up,” Rini said in a reasonable voice. “How come you aren’t?”

There was perhaps just the slightest hint of hesitation before the wizard spoke, her voice laced with acid. “Why would I want to?” she said, her full lips curling into a disdainful sneer. “The crowd downstairs is composed entirely of raving monkeys with only one thing on their mind, and I do not mean bananas. It is hardly a place befitting my breeding and refinement, you know. Besides, I do not need that sort of company anyway. They would only distract me from my studies, most likely by making me ponder how so few brain cells can propel so many pounds of muscle forwards.” 

_And you wouldn’t want to run the risk of getting embarrassed again, would you? Oh dear…_ “All right,” the bard said in a neutral voice. “Whatever you say. But in that case, how about keeping me company for a while? Unlike you, I do need it now and then, and I don’t feel like going downstairs right now either, at least not until Jan finishes that story.” 

Edwina blinked briefly; dark eyes somewhat confused. Then she rallied. “Certainly! Clearly you need some intellectual conversation, with somebody capable of forming polysyllabic words, and of showering you with scintillating conversation and dazzling wit. And since I am, of course, the only possible choice, I suppose I shall have to sacrifice myself, simply in order to keep you sane.” 

“Thank you, Edwina,” Zaerini said, her voice perfectly serious. “Much obliged.” She motioned for the other woman to enter the bedroom, and then sat down on the bed, next to her. “I was just thinking,” she said, “that I ought to give this another try, now that we have the time.” She slowly reached her hand out towards the wizard’s neck. 

“What?” Edwina almost shrieked, her eyes as wide as teacups. 

“The amulet,” the bard clarified, teasing the ruby slowly out of the wizard’s robe by pulling at the chain. “If you don’t mind, I thought I could try another scrying of it.” _Oh gods…her skin is so soft…and hot too…and…no no. Mustn’t spook her. But maybe if I can just get her used to me being close to her…_

“Oh!” Edwina gasped, startling a little at the half-elf’s touch. “No, no…I don’t mind at all…please go ahead, it is all in the name of scientific research after all and…(Is it supposed to feel like this for a woman? I never realized…yes, further research is definitely required.)” Her eyes were half-closed by now, and she had unconsciously grasped Rini’s hand, pressing it against the amulet that was hanging around her throat. The bard could feel the smooth stone pressing into her palm, almost as hot as the skin surrounding it, and there was a pulsating rhythm to the flickering light within its depth, the same rhythm she had sensed before, as of the heartbeat of a living creature. 

_Is the amulet itself alive? No…no, I don’t think so. That seems wrong, somehow. And yet…there is definitely something there…something aware._

As she cast the scrying spell, focusing on the amulet, Rini briefly got the same impression as before, that of beautiful stars, swirling through the darkness. But this time, the vision was replaced by something else, as the scrying tried to show her the truth from a different angle. 

She was wandering through a dark forest, where tall trees blotted out most of the sunlight coming from above, and thorny bushes tried to grasp for her feet. The wind whistled through the treetops, far above, and now and then she could hear noises in the bushes as some animal passed. A large animal, by the sound of it. The sun was already setting, and the red rays of the dying sun didn’t manage to do more than provide a faint contrast to the dark shadows lingering between the trees. Yes, a dark place, a place full of peril, she could sense that. Not evil though, not as such. There was life all around, she knew that as certainly as if Jaheira had been there to confirm her knowledge. Whatever this place was, it was natural. In its own wild way, it was even beautiful.

Natural, yes. But still dangerous. The sense of it increased with every step she took further into the forest, where the paths disappeared, and she had to force her way deeper into the gloom. She could hear something…hear it in her bones rather than in her ears. A deep, throbbing sound. A heartbeat, the heartbeat of this very place, and as a sense of surprised disapproval washed over her, she knew that she had been noticed. 

_Who are you?_ The wind whispered it, the shadows hissed it, and the trees creaked it. Many voices, yet all of them were really the same, she thought. One single voice, multiplied, whispering. _You are an intruder…you are not welcome here…_

“I mean no harm,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “I seek only the truth.” 

_The truth?_ The voices were mocking now, yet bitter at the same time. _What makes you think you have the right to seek it? Go away, leave us alone. This intrusion displeases me…I will stand for it no longer._

“But I…” There was a light up ahead now, she could glimpse it between the trees. A beautiful, beautiful light, and somehow, she knew that it contained all the truth she sought. But the heartbeat of the dark forest was increasing in pace, increasing in anger and resentment, and the wind was howling with fury. She took a step closer.

_You will not go._ The voices in the shadows were quiet now, and that made them somehow even more frightening, especially since they sounded closer than before. _Very well. Then I will see you out. You will not approach against my will, nobody will. Never._ There was a terrible growl coming from behind her, the growl of some large animal that sounded both angry and hungry, and she could feel hot breath against her back. 

With a gasp, Rini managed to tear herself out of the scrying spell, half expecting to feel large teeth closing around her throat. “Oh gods…” she breathed. “Guess I wasn’t really welcome…” 

“What is it?” Edwina asked, sounding worried. “What did you see?”

“I’m not sure…I can’t make sense of it. Except for one thing. The amulet itself may not be alive, but there is definitely a connection to something alive in there. Alive and very dangerous.” 

_Somewhat later…_

“Another dank hole with which to improve my mood,” Edwina sarcastically stated. “Joy.” She made an expansive gesture of contempt at her surroundings. “Look at this! Slime, grime, muck, dirt, filth, as well as, let’s face it, monster droppings. Why is it that we always seem to wind up in places like this one? Once, just once, I would like to have an adventure that did not leave us all stinking like a Balor’s behind. (Preferably an adventure in a nice clean palace somewhere, something involving peeled grapes and chilled sherbet.)” She gave her soiled robes a dark look, and then proceeded to spray herself liberally from a small crystal bottle. A sweet-smelling cloud of perfume enveloped her. It carried the scent of roses, musk and vanilla with it, and it made everybody else cough. 

“Minsc knows the answer!” Minsc eagerly chimed in. The ranger had Otyugh blood splattered all over his face, creating a fearful look that clashed with his open and innocent smile. “It is because Evil hides in dark and slimy places, and so Heroes of Goodness like us must go there to hunt the Evil down and drag it kicking and screaming into the light, just like when Minsc has to drag Boo out of the Evil Girl Wizard’s funny bags.” 

“My funny…” Edwina checked her bags of spell components, and then she breathed in heavily as angry red spots appeared in her cheeks. “That hamster has been eating my spell components, hasn’t he? (And you’d better not be referring to me as a Hero of Goodness.)”

“Poor Boo,” Minsc said, taking the hamster out of his pocked and giving him a worried look. Boo gave the ranger what could best be described as a happy leer, rolling eyes that had unaccountably turned a bright purple. His fur was purple too, with yellow spots. “Boo says he likes the pretty colors, but he is acting very oddly. He keeps saying things like ‘groovy’ and ‘far out man’, and he keeps giggling oddly. The Evil Girl Wizard must take better care of her things, or Minsc will spank.” 

“Squea-he-he-he-eak…” Boo said. Then he fell over in Minsc’s palm, kicking his legs in the air as the ranger poked him worriedly. 

“Take better care of _my_ things? You take better care of your rodent, unless you wish to become the owner of the world’s smallest furry hat! Look at this! Look at all my precious components! He’s been into them all! And what is this? Hamster droppings? How am I supposed to summon my overpowering magic using hamster droppings? What do you expect me to do? Conjure an Excrement Elemental?” 

“Might be fun to watch,” Zaerini said, grinning. “At least that Otyugh would have been interested. Here, I’ll let you borrow some of my components until we can fix yours.” The adventurers had found the secret passage beneath the Copper Coronet with no great difficulty. It led into a maze of foul-smelling sewers, unsurprisingly enough. _Eddie is quite right about that_ , Rini thought. _It always does seem to be sewers._ So far, they had seen no sign of the slavers they sought. Nor had they encountered any great opposition. Some slimes, an Otyugh, and for some unaccountable reason, a group of hobgoblins, though what they might be doing down a sewer was a mystery that had died with them. “And speaking of gross things, you’re a fine one to talk. Did you have to bring along that disgusting thing you found before?” 

“It could be an artifact of great magic!” 

“It’s a hand! A rotting, severed hand! And haven’t you had enough of ancient magical artifacts yet? Next time you might turn into a…a frog or something.” 

Edwina gave her an annoyed look. “Research always carries certain hazards with it, but without experimentation we will never learn anything new.”

“Sure. Catching flies with your tongue would be pretty new.” 

“Hmpf,” Edwina said, patting the bag where she kept the disgusting appendage, she had found down a drain. “I wouldn’t expect you to fully understand the workings of the scientific mind, not having received higher education, as it were. (Come to think of it, there is a traditional method for curing an amphibian transformation that does sound pretty tempting…as long as she is the one to administer the cure. If tongues come into it, so much the better.)” 

“Oh, suit yourself. Just don’t blame me if it turns out to be the hand of a rabid killer and suddenly comes to life and tries to strangle you or something.” 

As the adventurers happened upon an intersection, they across a sad that was sad as well as unusual. Two skeletons stood in a niche in the wall, tightly embracing each other with skeletal arms. The shorter skeleton was leaning its skull against the bony shoulder of the taller one, and their fingers were entwined. “Look…” Jaheira said, her voice quiet. “A man and a woman.” 

“How can you tell?” Anomen asked. 

“The shape of the pelvis is different,” the druid explained, moving over to the skeletons as she pointed at them in order to demonstrate. “Do you see? The woman’s is wider, to allow for giving birth. That is how you can tell. The skulls are also different…though this man’s skull seems a little damaged. Possibly he had some deformity.” 

“Yup!” Jan agreed. “That’s one way of telling for certain. Or, you can read the inscription!” He pointed at the angular letters that had been carved into the wall about the niche. “See? ‘Eric and Christine, Together Forever’. Says so inside the ring too, see?” He held up a small golden wedding band. “The dead woman had it on her finger.” 

“You go too far, gnome!” Anomen protested, scowling angrily at the small thief. “How could you steal from a dead woman like that?”

“Well, the ring that the fellow is wearing wouldn’t come off, you see. Pity, that one is larger.” 

“Put it back right now, you little grave robber!” Anomen threatened, advancing on Jan. “I will not allow you to desecrate a pair of dead lovers like this, as they sleep eternally, dreaming dreams of their long-lost devotion!” 

“Oh, come on, Ano! They’ll never miss it, they don’t even have any eyes to miss it with, see?”

“No! Give it here!” The cleric angrily snatched the golden ring out of Jan’s hands and took the hand of the female skeleton, attempting to put it back. “I will see that the dear departed are treated with all the respect they deserve, giving them their chance to rest in peace once more…” 

Crack. Creak. Clutter. 

As Anomen tugged a little too hard on the skeletal hand, ‘Christine’ shuddered, creaked, and then suddenly collapsed in a heap of bones, her skull bouncing off the cleric’s helmet before it hit the floor. The noise as she spread all over the sewer floor was deafening, and Anomen was left standing motionless, still holding the ring up, as his face turned a bright beet red. 

“Maybe that should be ‘rest in pieces’?” Edwina sweetly suggested. 

“I…” Anomen said uncertainly, picking a thigh bone up. “Mayhaps…mayhaps we could glue her back together?” He took a step forward, and there was a loud crack as his mailed boot came down upon the unfortunate ‘Christine’s’ skull. 

“I think,” Rini said, “that we’d have better use for a broom…” 

It was decided that Jan might as well hold on to the ring, since ‘Christine’ clearly would have no further use for it. Rini had the unpleasant feeling that ‘Eric’ was glaring at them as they went, but she eventually shrugged it off. After all, it was only a skeleton, even if it was one with an oddly deformed head. Having traversed a few more corridors, they came across a bridge leading across a broad river of stinking sewer water. The half-elf was just about to set foot on it when Jan darted in front of her. “Hold on, your Worship! Trap ahead! That one would have roasted us all, just like when poor old Auntie Florence Jansen invited the dragon next door to a barbecue. Sadly, she forgot to buy enough meat, so the dragon decided to fix its own dinner, so to speak. The smell was quite tempting, or so I heard.” He busied himself with something on the ground. Presumably it was the trap, though Zaerini couldn’t pretend that she saw much of it. I guess I simply don’t have the eyes of a rogue. Immy would have loved to mess about with it though…As they waited for Jan to remove the trap, they suddenly heard a hooting, barking sound coming out of the darkness ahead. Three of the party members simultaneously groaned as bad memories came back to them. 

“Kobolds…” Zaerini sighed. “Pesky kobolds…I had enough of those long ago.”

“Just like under the Firewine Bridge,” Jaheira said, a look of suffering on her face. “Multiplying with unnatural speed…I swear they must spread by dividing.” 

“And they’d keep turning up right behind you too,” Edwina added, making a grimace. “Even in spots you’d sworn were empty five seconds ago.” 

“Minsc will go see that little yappy kobolds cause no harm!” Minsc said, and immediately marched off into the darkness. “If they divide, then Minsc and Boo will conquer! Boo says that is the same as kicking kobold butt, so that is all good and proper!” Before anybody had the time to comment, or indeed to follow him, there was a loud and terrified yapping, like a kennel of small dogs. Then Minsc returned, rubbing a bump on his head and holding up what seemed to be a wooden staff, decorated with carvings of leaves and vines. “Minsc is not sure what happened,” he said. “Minsc just held up Boo to tell yappy kobolds off for being noisy and bothering ladies, and they all run away screaming. One threw this stick at Minsc’s head too, but Minsc has had plenty of bumps before, so that is all right.” Boo burped loudly, rolled his purple eyes again, and extended his tongue. And extended it. And extended it. And extended it, until it had wrapped itself several times around Minsc’s wrist. He didn’t seem to be in any discomfort, but it was an unsettling sight all the same. I really hope that wears off soon, Zaerini thought. Or else I might run screaming too. 

The staff turned out to be only mildly magical, capable of producing a few tasty berries once a day. It worked too, but before anybody else could get the chance to taste the large blueberries that appeared, Insufferable pounced on them, stuffing them into his mouth until his furry cheeks were fully distended. Then the monkey retreated into Edwina’s pocket, where it promptly fell asleep, snoring deeply. “Greedy monkey,” Edwina muttered. “No manners whatsoever, doesn’t even think to share with me…” She did make very certain that the animal was sleeping comfortably though, and Rini was certain that she saw her gently petting it. 

Having got past a few more random dark tunnels, puddles of slime, traps and kobolds, the adventurers came upon what seemed to be a home of a sort. Actually, it was only a single room, containing a simple bed, a table, and a couple of rotting chairs. It also contained a carrion crawler, a sickly pale, worm-like monster the size of a large dog. It had multiple legs, and even more tentacles, waving like searching fingers about its hungrily gaping mouth. Finally, there was a wizened old man, looking half-dead with starvation, and completely mad. His long gray beard reached his knees, which was probably a good thing, given that he was completely naked otherwise. For a second, Zaerini was uncomfortably reminded of Elminster. “You have come for the blade, I suppose,” he said in a quavering voice. Then he petted the hideous monster next to him, tickling its tentacles. “It is as we have always expected, my friend. Too long in this pit, too long.”

“Friend?” Anomen said. “That dangerous monster is your friend?”

“He loves affection,” the old man said. “He loves to taste the flesh of the unwary. It is his one weakness. It has been his gift to me for these long years. This beast that you see, he is a monster to you but to me he is a friend. Would you like to kiss him?”

“Not bad…” Edwina murmured as she bent over the carrion crawler, examining its tentacles closely. “It seems very docile, given that it is only a doddering old fool who is its trainer and not a skilled mage like me.” She went down on her knees, for now oblivious to the damp staining her robe as she picked a multi-jointed leg up, paying close attention to how it bent. The carrion-crawler watched her quizzically. “Of course, these things have the intelligence of an earthworm, just keep them fed and they will be happy…” 

“Edwina…” Rini said, her tongue feeling quite stiff in her mouth. “That’s a carrion crawler. You do know what they eat, don’t you? Just come away from there. Please?” 

“In a moment, in a moment,” the wizard impatiently said. “These things cannot be hurried. Would you just look at those teeth…”

“I am looking! That’s why I want you to leave it alone!” 

“Just leave them be, my lady,” Anomen suggested. “If the mage has finally found a suitable mate, we might as well leave them to their happiness.” 

It was at this moment that Edwina accidentally touched what seemed to be a ticklish spot on the carrion crawler’s belly. The monster made a coughing sound, flailing its tentacles about, and a sticky white fluid splattered from them, hitting Anomen in the face. The priest immediately froze into immobility, a look of stunned surprise prominent on his face. 

“Beautiful little thing,” Edwina sighed, smiling at the carrion crawler. “Uncommonly clever for its kind too. Excellent judge of character.” She turned to give the old man an imploring look. “I think he looks a little hungry though…how about letting him feed? There seems to be a nicely frozen dinner available…”


	54. Stanzas and Steel

**Cards Reshuffled 54 – Stanzas and Steel**

_It is amazing how many people will gladly be part of a mob. It probably has something to do with getting the opportunity to tear some chosen person to pieces, burn him at the stake, slowly dismember him or inflict some other appropriately slow and gruesome death upon him, while simultaneously convincing themselves that they are morally justified to do so. I’m not certain exactly what that says about humanity. Probably not something children ought to hear._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

The scorch-marks on the fallen stones and toppled pillars were still evident, even now, in the purple twilight just after sunset. In places, the stone had cracked and melted, and whenever you walked nearby dust stirred in the air. Dekaras watched the ruined northern end of Waukeen’s Promenade, trying to visualize what had happened here. There had been a great magical battle, that much he had been able to gather from the people he had carefully questioned in the nearby shops and inns as he first came upon the site. A great and terrible magical battle, where several people had died. The assassin cocked his head to one side, narrowing his eyes a little as he watched the battlefield with a sense other than normal vision. Mage-sight was still his to use, and in such a place as this he had no problem summoning it. The magical residue was still extremely heavy in the air; he could practically feel his skin tingling from it. To a casual observer it would almost have looked as if he were sniffing the air, pacing back and forth in the shadows between the still standing pillars, like a hunting wolf about to pick up a track. 

_An Archmage…it has to be. Such power…yes, this is a rare one indeed._ Though the magic residue had faded some, it was still so strong and intoxicating that he had to remind himself to keep his mind clear and not lose focus. It was difficult not to do so, part of him wanted to let go and simply enjoy the sensation. _No. Can’t afford to do that. Have to concentrate, stay on guard._ Many spells had been cast here, yes. Deadly spells, beyond a doubt, though he couldn’t say exactly which ones. There had been magic coming from several different sources too, but the strongest source came from just by the ruined colonnade, with other, weaker ones, around it. There was dried blood here and there, almost invisible shadows that had been trodden into the dusty ground. _So. There was a battle, a great magical battle. One Archmage, challenged by several other, lesser wizards. And how did the battle finish, I wonder?_ It might have nothing to do with his own mission of course, but he still was determined to find out. Anything unusual was worth investigating, in case it had something to do with the people he was seeking. _Those girls tend to attract trouble, after all. You’d think they’d never learnt the meaning of the word ‘caution’. No wonder Edwin seemed to get along well with them._ Edwin…that was another concern. That feeling of wrongness was still with him, that certainty that the wizard was in some kind of trouble. Alive, yes. That he knew for certain. But…no. Something was certainly wrong. Hopefully Poppy would be able to find out something useful and send word soon before he went quietly insane with worry. 

With a final long look about the battlefield, Dekaras pondered where he might go next. It was still far too early to retire, and he was too restless anyway. What he really wanted was to keep up the hunt, but it was difficult to decide where to go next. Eventually he decided to try to gather some more information about this cataclysmic magic battle. Plenty of people in this area must have seen what happened, it wasn’t the sort of thing you could miss. Eventually he would certainly find somebody who was willing to talk about it. 

As it happened, it took a couple of hours of questioning performed in the taverns around the Promenade before he finally came upon something useful. In a fairly nice place called ‘The Den of the Seven Vales’, run by a large and very unpleasant woman who kept glaring at him as if she expected him to make off with the silver, he spotted a mage. He was a fairly skinny fellow wearing dark purple robes, and he seemed to be quite drunk. “Welcome, welcome all!” he exuberantly told the crowd. “Welcome to this night’s performance by…Alateto de Bonito!” He bowed extravagantly as if waiting for a thunderous applause, and then cleared his throat a little nervously as he was faced with disapproving silence, and a few jeers as well. “Er…just let me get on with the program, all right? Lovely crowd tonight, just lovely, not a single rotting vegetable thrown at me yet…all right then.” He struck a dramatic pose, and then started reciting a poem. At least Dekaras presumed it was a poem. It did rhyme…just barely. 

_The sky did quake, the ground did break, as magic did its task  
And out he came, the one to blame, the wizard in the mask!  
The shadows stirred, the thieves they erred, in thinking they could win  
He killed them here, he killed them there, before they could begin_

_Then came a child, so brave and wild, with hair of pink so fair!  
Her magic flew, so straight and true, right at the wizard there!  
Then portals gleamed, and in they beamed, Cowled Wizards did appear  
With magic free, they don’t agree, they will not have it here_

_The wizard fought, but all for naught, for he was only one  
He did give in, they took him in, yet even then he won  
They took her too, and who can know, where now the pink one cries?  
As Cowled Ones’ thrall, as are we all, in Amn where magic dies_

The wizard rubbed at his eyes a little, then ducked as a throwing axe whistled over his face. “Shut your stupid face!” cried one of the onlookers, a large and burly man who looked to be a mercenary. “D’you want to bring the Cowlies down on us all, you stupid good-for-nothing spell-slinger?”

“I will speak the truth as I see it,” the mage said, with the absolute conviction of an idealist, and a drunk one at that. Dekaras estimated his current estimated lifespan to be about two minutes. Just long enough for him to speak another sentence in fact, and for the mercenary to comprehend the more complicated words. _And that I won’t have. I need to talk to him. Pink hair…it has to be her._

“Magic is beautiful!” the wizard said in a loud voice, causing more than one member of the crowd to reach angrily for their weapons. “If people fear it, it is because they are too stupid to fully understand it! And the Cowled Wizards are tyrants, trying to gain power for themselves by controlling all mages in Amn! Join me, my friends! Let us run singing into the streets and build some barricades, for the iron fist of tyranny shall not strike down those who fight for justice!” 

“Oh yeah?” the mercenary growled. “But the iron edge of my sword just might…” He drew said sword, lunging for the hapless mage who was far too drunk to manage as much as to conjure a bouquet of daisies, far less defend himself. Then he suddenly sagged forward, a very surprised look on his face, coughed up a sizable amount of blood, and died. 

“Get down!” Dekaras hissed at Alateto de Bonito, pushing the man to safety behind the bar while he simultaneously pulled his dagger out of the back of the dead mercenary. Those other people in the crowd who had harbored violent thoughts towards the rhyming mage suddenly started considering other options as they found a crossbow pointing towards them. 

“If we all charge him at once we can take him!” one man shouted, with the sort of courage common to people who have been enjoying one good ale too many. 

“You might,” Dekaras coldly said, rapidly scanning the crowd in case somebody intended to go for it. “But the first one to do so will die. Now, which one of you would like to be the first one? Take your time, no rush.” 

There were a few seconds of silence as the mob considered this. Then, having decided that nobody really felt that keen on being the first one, they slunk off and out the door, transforming remarkably quickly en route from mob to fine, upstanding citizens and pillars of the community. _And in five more minutes they will probably have managed to convince themselves that they never really meant it, and that he certainly would have deserved it anyway. Sometimes I’m really happy not to be a pillar of the community._

“Is it over?” Alateto de Bonito whispered from behind the bar. “Can I come out now? Say, thanks a lot! Precious few people in Athkatla would leap to the defense of a wizard, you know!” 

“Oh well,” Dekaras said, smiling slightly to himself. “I suppose I have grown pretty much used to that. Besides, I wanted to talk to you, and I thought that it would probably be easier to do so if you were still in possession of your head.” 

“You did? You do? Oh my! Are you a patron of the arts, perhaps? Now, I know I’m not a proper bard, but I really do think my poetry has improved, and sometimes people even throw fresh vegetables at me now rather than rotting ones…you did like my poem, didn’t you?” 

“I found it absolutely entrancing,” the assassin said with a straight face. “Why don’t we go somewhere else, so we can discuss it privately? I would really like to go over some of the finer points and deeper symbolisms with you.” 

Here he was forced to dodge the sweep of a broom, as the fat innkeeper aimed a blow at his head, all of her chins wobbling with indignation. “Well, I NEVER!” she screeched. “Typical males! Causing a ruckus, leaving dead bodies lying about everywhere, and just how am I going to get the bloodstains out, I ask you? I’m sure you won’t be offering to help! That’s men for you, always messing things up and expecting us poor women to clean up after them! Get out of here, both of you, before I give you a thrashing.” She swung the broom wildly once again, but this time the assassin was able to catch it on the downward swoop. 

“Could you kindly stop doing that?” Dekaras asked. “It is extremely distracting, not to mention irritating.” 

“Talk back at me, will you, you big lout? Think that just because I’m a frail woman you can push me around, do you?” 

_Frail? That’s a strange definition of the word if I ever heard one._ After a few moments Dekaras managed to twist the broom out of the woman’s grasp, while simultaneously blocking out her angry curses. The last bit wasn’t as much of a challenge as one might have thought. After all, he had plenty of experience at such things. “We’ll be going now,” he said, backing towards the door while pulling the wizard after him. “And remember, if I hadn’t intervened there would still have been bloodshed, and those people probably would have smashed every piece of furniture here as well.” He paused in the doorway, the broom across his shoulder. The innkeeper still looked livid, and unlikely to see reason. He had no intention of letting her get her hands on that broom again while he was in the immediate vicinity. Then he smiled briefly and tossed a few coins onto a nearby table. “For the kind hospitality,” he said, and just barely pulled the door shut behind him in order for the heavy porcelain jug that sailed through the air to break against the door instead of against his face. _An admirable woman, actually. Very strong-willed and in possession of good aim._

Once they had found another suitable inn several streets away, where the city guards were unlikely to come asking awkward questions, Alateto de Bonito didn’t require much prompting to tell what he knew. He knew no names of the people involved, and knew nothing about the strange masked wizard who had started the whole mess, but the descriptions he gave of the other people he had seen were enough to make Dekaras certain of who they were. _A pink-haired girl accompanied by a redhead with odd yellow eyes. That would be them all right. The other half-elf sounds like the druid, and the large man with the tattooed face can only be the ranger. No mention of the druid’s husband though…nor of the Wychlaran, thankfully. I can certainly do without one of those interfering. And all of them looking worse for wear…somebody has been treating them badly, I fear._

Apparently Zaerini and her other companions had escaped the battle unscathed, and Alateto had no idea where they had disappeared to, unfortunately. _But if they are still in the city, I am bound to find them eventually. Imoen though…that is really bad news._ The pink-haired girl’s fate worried him a great deal. _Whatever reason this strange wizard might have had for wanting her arrested along with him, it won’t be a good one. And what was she doing using magic, anyway? She might have started studying it since I last saw her, I suppose, but she never spoke of wanting to learn the Art._ In a way he had to admit to himself that he rather hoped she hadn’t. Imoen had a lot of natural talent for being a rogue, and he had very much enjoyed teaching her what he could. It would be very satisfying to see her advance even further. _Though if magic is her destiny, then so be it. I just wish she hadn’t decided to use it in the streets of Athkatla, not with the Cowled Wizards on the prowl._

The Cowled Wizards…there was something very unpleasant to consider, and the very thought of them made him feel angry contempt. _More of those who would enslave magic, chaining those who do not wish to submit to them. It seems that some things never change. And if asked, of course they will claim that they do it all ‘for the good of society’ or some such nonsense. Well, if they think they are going to keep Imoen imprisoned, they’re about to be very disappointed. Terminally disappointed._

True, Alateto de Bonito didn’t know where the Cowled Wizards kept their prisoners, but somewhere in Athkatla there would be somebody who did know. _With a large organization such as that, there will be tracks they haven’t covered. It may take some time, but there will be something to find._ There was also the matter of the powerful Archmage taken along with Imoen, and just what he had to do with her and Zaerini. And then there was Bodhi…the vampire was the one who had originally taken the two girls, but there had been those references made to a ‘brother’. _Could it be that wizard? There are many reasons for wanting to kidnap a Bhaalspawn, all of them unpleasant, but why Imoen? Yet there has to be a reason for it._

As he left the drunk wizard behind and exited into the night, Dekaras once again walked by the Promenade, pausing by the large heap of rubble to feel the tempting scent of magic in the air. The tracks were still confusing, and leading in many different directions, but they were clearer. The Cowled Wizards, Bodhi, this mysterous mage, Zaerini and her friends… All that remained to decide was which one to follow first. _And if I can, I will make the Cowled Wizards deeply regret that they didn’t leave Imoen alone._

_In the sewers…_

As Anomen slowly became able to move again, his first impulse was to go straight for the throat of Edwina, and hopefully wipe that smug smirk of the wizard’s face. Only through a massive gathering of willpower did he keep himself from doing so. _Knights do not attack and strangle women. Knights do not attack and strangle women. Knights do not…is it really that important to become a knight? Surely, I could somehow…no! Knights do not attack and strangle women…more’s the pity. No. Must stay calm. Composed. Virtuous. And it is not as if that wretched creature’s taunting means anything now anyway. With her transformed into a female form, she has effectively lost. No longer will she be able to entice the Lady Zaerini in the slightest. I can afford to be magnanimous, that will make me look all the better._

“Did you like the taste of Carrion Crawler excretions, Helmite?” Edwina said, smiling slyly. “Does it perhaps remind you of the taste of all those regurgitated platitudes about righteous paladins that you so like to spout? Or of the pungent taste of your superior’s posterior as you work hard to advance in the ranks of the Mindless Brigade?”

_Knightsdonotattackandstranglewomen,Knightsdonotattackandstranglewomen,Knightsdonotattackandstranglewomen…_

“Edwina…” Zaerini said, a warning edge to her voice. “Don’t start.” 

Amazingly enough, the wizard actually acquiesced, shrugging briefly. “As you wish,” she said. “From the dull look in his eyes I doubt he’s unable to recognize and fully appreciate the rich texture of my ready wit at any rate.” 

“I recognize a lost cause when I see one,” Anomen stiffly said. “As the flames of the Abyss welcome you, I hope you will remember this conversation and mourn that you did not choose to change your wicked ways while there was still time.” _Is that monkey sticking its tongue out at me again? Knights do not attack and stomp on innocent animals…but dear Helm, might not your loyal servant be allowed to make a small exception for that furry fiend?_

“Anomen…” Zaerini said, rubbing her fingers against her temple. “Please…”

“She started it!” 

“No!” Edwina hissed. “He started it!” 

“Will the pair of you just quit it?” the bard snarled, her eyes flashing dangerously. “Right now you are _both_ being very annoying.” She turned to the dotty old man they had found down in the sewer. “Sorry about that,” she said, her voice pleasant once again. “Now, you mentioned something about a blade before? And also, have you seen any other people down here? Slavers?”

“Slavers…” the old madman murmured. “Slavers…Quallo is a slave, oh yes he is!” He giggled. “No slavers…or are there? Quallo doesn’t know, Quallo doesn’t see or hear…And the blade…oh yes! The One has left clues for you. Have you not found the clues? Where the topside filth drains, there are the clues. Return to me ere you follow the One's path, for there is much that you must learn.”

“The One?” Zaerini asked. “Who is the One?”

A crafty gleam crept into the man’s eyes. “You have met him already, child. Perhaps soon you shall know him well. Find the clues the One has left. There is danger in what you must undertake.”

“Well,” the half-elf said, shrugging. “That was informative, wasn’t it?” She sighed. “If we find this ‘One’, or his ‘clues’, we’ll come back to you. Bye for now.” 

The adventurers now followed a tunnel they hadn’t explored yet, and after a while they could hear the sound of running water ahead. The tunnel ended in a small and square room, where water rushed out of four large copper pipes set into the walls. There was something odd about the water, Anomen noticed. A faint green glow. “Careful, my lady,” he warned Zaerini as she was about to step into the chamber. “I do not trust this place. With your permission, I will precede you.” 

“You don’t have to do that, Ano,” the bard said, smiling briefly at him. 

“That I know, my lady. Still, it is my wish.” _Chivalry is clear on the point…but I would be happy to do so all the same._ As he entered the room, there was a booming voice that seemed to come from the pipes ahead, echoing and metallic. 

“At last! Find the keys, wielder! I've found a man lacking in worth, so he shall be my voice until I'm free. Prove your worth and I shall submit to your mastery. Listen to the words of my jailor, who cast me off so that he might pass from this world:”

_Four locks are cast and made  
Four wards will hold the blade  
In what order shall thou place the keys?  
Four deaths await thee_

Anomen stared into the darkness ahead, trying to see the speaker, but there was nothing to be seen, only the rushing water. _Great Helm, what is this creature? And why this strange obsession with bad rhymes?_

The voice took on the excited tones of an eager child. “When all was silent, I crept from the slime and scratched rhymes for you. Vallah forbade it and hid me, but he is dead, so I've ignored him.”

“Who are you, creature?” Anomen said, trying to sound as stern as possible. “What secret do you guard, and who is this ‘Vallah’ of whom you speak?” 

The voice simply laughed at this. “I can't reveal all. Prove your worth -- find Quallo. We shall speak through that vessel. Be careful! The wards must be broken in the proper order.” Then it fell silent again, though the water kept glowing. 

“Ah, yes,” Jan said, “the old puzzle-box trick. Ma Jansen used to hide the keys to the breadbox the same way, not that it ever stopped us. "Jan," she used to say, "one of these days you're going to have one too many sweetbreads!" I never did, although my cousin Arfie once did that day he exploded. Sad story, that.”

Zaerini had advanced upon the pipes, watching them curiously. “Look at this,” she said, pointing at the pipes. “There’s writing here, scratched into the pipes themselves. Very blocky, rough writing, almost like a child’s, but I think I can read it…” There were four poems in all, one for each pipe. 

_They wailed and sighed  
Then they died  
From the grave I’ve had my kiss  
Bring me now the lover’s gift_

_No sacrifice will do,  
But the blood of a friend, true.  
But guilt will leave its stain  
If you wish to have the blade_

_Vallah is no more  
But he has left a thing behind  
Give me a hand  
And I shall help you in return_

_Smell of dog  
Skin of lizard  
To find the staff,  
Kill the wizard_

“Eeewww…” Zaerini said, wrinkling her nose. “That’s really bad poetry…” 

“At least the fourth one should be easy to adhere to,” Anomen said, giving Edwina a dark look. “Smell of dog, skin of lizard, to find the staff, kill the wizard. I shall be very happy to comply, just give the word.” 

“I’ll have you know,” Edwina sneered, “that my skin is perfectly soft and supple. Then again, I take good care of myself, and have mastered basic hygiene, unlike you, ape. Now, verse three is more to my liking…it shall be my pleasure to remove that hand of yours, though all the…polishing…has likely made it bulky enough that it will have difficulty fitting into the pipe!” 

“Actually,” Jan said, “you’re both looking at this the wrong way, young ones! We have the ring from Ano’s little friend Christine, we have that smelly old hand you found down that sewer, ‘Dwina, and we have the staff of the kobold wizard. Really now…if you want a simple and straightforward answer to your problems you should call on the gnome, haven’t you learnt that yet?” 

“What about the fourth one?” Zaerini asked. “That one worries me a bit, all that ‘blood of a friend true’.” 

“Minsc is good and true!” Minsc proudly stated. “Minsc will give his blood happily if asked, though he’d prefer to give it in battle, not because spooky voices asks it. Boo tells Minsc not to trust in funny voices, only crazy people do that.” 

“Don’t worry, Minsc,” Zaerini said, patting the giant ranger on the arm. “I would never ask you to do a thing like that.” She gave Anomen and Edwina an empathetic look, just as they both opened their mouths. “And you two, don’t even think about suggesting using each other’s blood. Just forget it.” 

_Truly_ , Anomen thought, _she does see right through me at times, much like Moira. Moira…I wonder how she is? I should go see her soon, as long as I can manage to do so without running into Father._

“There is always the carrion crawler…” Jaheira suggested. 

“No!” Zaerini shook her head, red locks dancing about her face. “We can’t kill poor Quallo’s only friend.”

“It likely wouldn’t work anyway,” Edwina said. “The wards will not accept anything other but the blood of _your_ friend, I think.”

The bard nodded, chewing thoughtfully on a nail. “True…we’ll have to think of something else.” Then her face lit up. “Hey! I have an idea…we’re all friends, right?” Then her eyes flickered between himself and Edwina. “Well, at least you’re all friends with me. So, let’s take this riddle really, really literally.” 

A few minutes later Anomen was squeezing some blood out of his palm and into a small glass vial, as Zaerini looked on approvingly. “There! That’s the last one,” she said, shaking the vial. “All of our blood in here. After all, it’s not as if it said anything about how much blood was needed. Now let’s go talk to Quallo about the order of those wards.” 

As she practically bounced away down the passage, Anomen exchanged a long look with Edwina, who was walking next to him. “Do not think that this means anything, wizard,” he said. “For one thing, a blood-brotherhood implies that both parties involved are male.” 

“Do not presume, oh mighty raker of paladin stables,” Edwina scoffed. “As if I would ever wish to mingle my pure and unadulterated Thayvian blood with yours. I’d sooner mate with a swine.” She smirked nastily. “From the look of you, your mother could probably elaborate on such practices if you wish to know more about them.” 

_Knights do not attack and strangle women…Knights do not attack and strangle women…but Helm protect me, I will give in to a small temptation, just this once._ Shouldering his way past Edwina, Anomen’s greater weight and bulk toppled the wizard and landed her sitting on the mucky and slimy floor. “Watch out, wizard,” Anomen said, chuckling. “You are no longer quite yourself…nor are you, shall we say, part of the competition? Perhaps you should leave such things for proper men.”

“MY ROBE!” Edwina cried out, her voice gradually rising in pitch and volume as she took in the sight of the splattered garment. Her eyes actually seemed to be glowing red in the semi-darkness, and as she got to her feet again her fingers curled into claws and her mouth twisted into a snarl. Anomen took an involuntary step backwards. Edwin in his male form had never made him feel the least bit concerned for his safety, but there was something about Edwina at this particular moment that made him feel as if he was standing on top of an erupting volcano. “I will enjoy burning every ounce of flesh off your bones,” Edwina hissed, and now her eyes had definitely got a red hint to them. Her voice had lowered to a deadly and sibilant whisper. “And then I will pulverize the bones themselves, spit on them and scatter them to the four winds. Rest assured, despite my accident I am every bit myself and an Odesseiron, and an Odesseiron does not stand idly by to watch another try to steal what is his…or hers.” 

It is possible that things might have turned very nasty at this point, if Zaerini hadn’t turned around to place herself between the wizard and the cleric. “Stop it!” she yelled; her voice sharp with anger. “Both of you!” She pointed a commanding finger at Anomen. “You! You walk up front, with Minsc.” Then she turned to Edwina, glaring the wizard straight in the eyes. “And you. You stay in the back, as far from him as possible. Am I being clear enough for you?”

Edwina breathed heavily, and for a few moments Anomen thought she would protest. But then something seemed to pass between her and the half-elf, and she nodded stiffly. “Very well,” she said. “I cannot bear his stench anyway.” She turned around, passing closely by Anomen. “Remember, priest. I meant what I said. (And if he so much as tries to touch her, I will make certain he does not repeat the attempt. It is hard to touch things without an arm.)” 

_Threaten as you wish, Evil One_ , Anomen thought. _It is clear that you feel threatened yourself now…and so this is the perfect opportunity for me. I must make certain to get to speak with the lady Zaerini alone as soon as possible. The better I get to know her, the sooner I will be able to tell her of the depth of my feelings. And may you choke as you witness our radiant happiness._

Quallo was able to provide the adventurers with the clues they needed about which pipe they should place which required object in, and as soon as they did so there was a bright light inside the chamber, and an object fell clattering to the ground. It was a sword, Anomen noticed, a shining and most likely magical two-handed sword. 

“Oh, look!” Minsc said, picking the sword up. “A very pretty sword, and it even has a name!” 

“A name?” Jaheira asked. “How do you know?”

“It says here right on the blade, see? Boo can read it…he says that it says ‘Lilarcor’!”

At the sound of its name, a cheerful, steely and extremely eager voice rang out from the sword. “Lilarcor! That’s meeeee, baby! And I’m the hottest sword from here to Kara-Tur, ya know! Got any cute scabbards around this place? Or some monsters? I like to kill! KILL KILL KILL! Got any dragons here? Dragons have good loot. If you get good loot, you can buy me a good scabbard!” 

”You know,” Zaerini said to nobody in particular, “I’ve heard about sentient swords – but I guess that ‘sentient’ doesn’t mean exactly the same as ‘intelligent’.”


	55. Masquerade in Two Acts

**Cards Reshuffled 55 – Masquerade in Two Acts**

_The ability to bluff successfully and dupe people can be very dangerous if applied correctly. Just as valuable as weapon skills, mage-craft or other weapons. Of course, even a trained trickster may occasionally meet a match, or even find herself outmatched._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“So, are we gonna kill some really Big Bad Monsters soon?” Lilarcor asked. “You won’t have any problems now that I’m along, ya know. Hey, did I tell you that my brother’s a +12 Hackmaster?” 

“Yes,” Jaheira said, in a rather strained voice. “About six times so far.” 

“Oh, Minsc likes this clever sword that knows how to talk!” Minsc said. “The sword has just the right idea about kicking Evil Butt, or possibly stabbing it. Can Minsc keep it?” 

“Of course,” Zaerini hastily said. “I think you’re the one who likes it best anyway, and who’ll make best use of it. Just make sure it keeps its mouth…or whatever it is that does the talking…shut whenever we need to be stealthy.” _It’s a bit weird…that voice we heard before, the one that told the riddles, that one sounded more clever than Lilarcor does. Surely the sword itself couldn’t have brought Quallo down here to be its guardian? I’m sure it can’t cast spells, and it doesn’t seem bright enough._ “Let’s go talk to Quallo again,” she suggested. “I want to see if he can tell us anything else.” 

When they returned to the old hermit, they found him on the floor, feeding scraps of meat to his pet carrion crawler. Yet, when he looked up there was a new lucidity in his eyes that certainly hadn’t been there before. “You!” he said, smiling with his mostly toothless mouth. “We have met before, haven’t we?” 

“We spoke with you only a short while ago,” Anomen said. “Do you not recall that?”

The old man hesitated. “I…am not sure. Everything seems so misty, like a dream…how long have I been down here? How did I get here?” 

“I think you were charmed or dominated by something,” Rini said, trying to break the news as gently as she could. “Do you remember nothing about it?”

Quallo shook his head. “I don’t think so…except….”

“Yes?”

“There is this very odd scrap of memory…something involving a duck.” He shook his head. “I must get home. My family, they will be missing me…I hope they won’t mind me bringing my new friend here home.” He hobbled off down the corridor, the carrion crawler trailing after him. 

“Poor man,” Jaheira said as she followed him with her eyes. “I hope his family is still alive. But I do wonder who this ‘The One’ is that we heard mentioned earlier.” 

“You called for Ducky?” an unpleasantly familiar dry and dusty voice said from behind them. Rini recognized it well, much as she wished she hadn’t. _Oh no…not him!_

“Well hello there!” Nevaziah the Lich said, with what might possibly have been a pleasant smile on a face that didn’t look like a wizened old prune. He was still wearing that ridiculously ugly tall hat, though mercifully enough he had replaced his bath towel with a mage robe. The robe in question was a bright orange, and there were…yes indeed, there were yellow little ducks embroidered all along the hem and the sleeves. In one claw-like hand the lich held the yellow toy duck that had probably been the inspiration for the robe's ‘decorations’. The cheerfully stupid expression on the animal’s face created a very disturbing contrast to the lich’s shriveled face and the red pinpoints deep within his dark eye sockets. In fact, Rini could almost swear that the duck was smirking at her. 

“Er…hello?” she said, desperately trying to think of something better to say, preferably before….

“You!” Edwina said, pointing an accusing finger at the lich. “I have a bone to pick with you, and I’m in the mood to extricate it directly from your spine! Look what your thrice-accursed Nether Scroll did to me! (Perhaps the lich used it already…that would certainly explain the insanity.)” 

“Oh, I recognize you now!” Nevaziah cheerfully said. “It’s the little thieves, isn’t it? The thieves who stole _my_ Nether Scroll?” 

Edwina’s mouth hung open, and her finger remained raised into the air. “Why…yes…I mean…that makes no difference! Turn me back this instant, or I will grind you down and use you for spell components! Lich dust is good for so many things…” Then she startled with surprise as Minsc patted her on the shoulder. 

“The Evil Girl Wizard should not be so hasty,” the ranger said. “Minsc knows what it is like to get really mad and want to hit things really hard, and Boo says that that is all right for a big strong warrior like Minsc, but if you lose your head you can’t do your sparkly magic, and then you could get hurt.” He held Boo up, and Rini was relieved to notice that the hamster had returned to normal after its previous exposure to Edwina’s spell components. “See? Let Boo’s calm hamster presence soothe you, then you will feel lots better.” 

Edwina’s eyes looked a little wild as she stared at the hamster. “I don’t want soothing! I want revenge! (I’m being lectured on restraint by a Rashemite berserker and his rabid hamster. It is probably a good thing that Teacher Dekaras isn’t here to see this…I’m not certain even my awesome intellectual powers could come up with a palatable explanation.)” 

“I can’t turn you back anyway,” Nevaziah said, grinning widely. “I’ve forgotten how to use the Scroll, you see. All gone! Poof!” He giggled. “Give it a few hundred years though, you may figure it all out…or maybe not. Anyway, I see you’ve found the sword!” 

“Lilarcor?” Zaerini asked, glancing at the sword. “It was you who hid Lilarcor down the sewer and charmed Quallo into guarding the clues?” _I thought I recognized the style of those awful rhymes…not quite as bad as the one about the duck, but almost._

“One of my apprentices, really,” the lich said, scratching at his nose. A small bug fell out of it and skittered off across the floor. “What was his name again…Vallah…was that it? So hard to remember…I did help him by setting up those clever, clever rhymes for the wards though. Always wanted to be a poet…I wonder what happened to Vallah? Haven’t seen him around in a long time.”

“Oh, him!” Lilarcor piped up. “See, he wanted to live up to that rhyme ya wrote about the hand, so he asked me to chop his hand off and stick it down the drain for a clue…only then he died of blood poisoning right after finishing the wards, see? Boy, I’m glad to be out of that place, nobody to talk to except for rats, and rats are boring. Chopping their tails off was fun though. Is that a duck? Why is it looking at me funny? HEY DUCK! YOU WANNA PIECE OF ME? I CAN TAKE YOU, JUST COME ON!”

“Aha!” Nevaziah said. “Now I recall why Vallah was so desperate to hide that sword…but that’s not important right now, is it, Ducky?” He patted the toy duck on the head. Then he gave Edwina a meaningful look. “I don’t know how to use the Scroll to restore you…but I know of somebody who might.” By now he was rubbing his hands eagerly. “His name is…Kangaxx!” He giggled again. “You just go see him in his house down by the Docks…I’m sure he’ll be happy to help. Mind the death trap on the door though.” Still giggling he turned around and scuffled off along the corridor. “Just tell him ‘hello’ from me…yes Ducky, won’t that be lovely?” As he turned around the corner he started singing, a disturbingly cheerful little song. 

_Ducky Ducky, he’s the One!  
A Ducky who is lots of fun!   
Don’t annoy him or you’ll rue  
The day when Ducky comes for you!_

“You should be relieved he did not try to use any magic on you,” Jaheira told Edwina. “He is insane enough that he would most likely have turned you inside out.” 

“A shame…” Anomen sighed. “Perhaps it is still possible to convince him? I could run after him.” 

Edwina, surprisingly, ignored him. “Kangaxx…” she said, sounding thoughtful. “Kangaxx…now where have I heard that name before? (It must have been a long time ago, or my encyclopedic brain would already have supplied me with the proper answer.)” 

Rini shook her head. “Whoever he may be, I don’t trust Nevaziah not to try to set us up. If he wants us to go see this Kangaxx, that’s an excellent reason not to, as far as I’m concerned.” Then she noticed the pleading look in the wizard’s eyes. “Oh, all right. I understand. If we can’t think of anything better, we’ll go see if we can find him, but I’d rather try the temples again first.”

“Probably a wise idea,” Jan agreed. “I wish my Auntie Ermengard had been as wise when she got cursed.” 

“I am warning you…” Edwina said, scowling darkly.

“You see,” Jan went on, totally ignoring her, “Auntie Ermengard had this obsession about granting herself eternal youth, much like some other people who shall remain unnamed, seeing that I’m a tactful gnome with no wish to offend. She’d bought this Elixir of Eternal Youth from an old wizard, but unfortunately it didn’t work, despite it containing both Aqua, royal jelly, calf liver and pixie dust. She rubbed it onto her face every night, but all that happened was that she got a few pimples. So, she went back to the wizard to complain, and demanded that he fix her up with the strongest youth spell he had or she’d give him a good whacking. Always had a nasty temper, Auntie Ermengard, it got her into trouble more than once.” 

“Does anybody have a gag available?” Edwina asked. “Anybody? (I could tear one out of my robe I suppose, but it would be such a shame to destroy all the neat stitching.)” 

“So,” Jan said, “naturally the wizard got a bit annoyed with Auntie. He put a spell on her all right, and since that day she started aging in reverse, getting younger and younger. It was all well and fine at first, but she was mighty peeved when she had to get back into nappies, and I won’t even go into the horrible thing that she eventually put poor Granny Jansen through…giving birth in the right direction is bad enough, or so Ma Jansen always told me when I was a naughty wee gnome.” 

“Right now,” Edwina muttered, “the one and only thing keeping him from becoming a Roast Gnome is his previous efforts as Count Turnipsome…and if he keeps this up, I may just forget myself.” 

After some more searching of the sewers, the party eventually came upon a ladder leading upwards, with a trapdoor on top. As Rini strained her ears, she could just barely make out muffled voices coming from above, though she couldn’t catch the words. She met Jaheira’s eyes, and the druid nodded. Clearly the other half-elf had heard the same. 

“It is likely that the slavers hide above us,” Jaheira said in a low voice. “This is a dangerous situation – this is the only entrance available to us apart from the main one, but we can only go up the ladder one by one, and that will make us very vulnerable.” 

“Yet we must proceed!” Anomen said, his face fervent as he looked at the trapdoor. “We cannot leave those poor people imprisoned and in the fetters of evil!” 

“Lower your voice! Do you wish them to hear us?” 

Zaerini was looking at the trapdoor too, thinking. _Of course we can’t leave those people up there…but I don’t want any of us to get hurt either. I wonder if there’s any way of turning things to our advantage, so we won’t have to fight unless we’re ready for it._ After a while, she came to a decision. Yes, that’s worth a try. It’s dangerous all right, but I think we can pull it off. Turning towards her friends, she quietly started explaining her plan. 

_Slightly later…_

“So, how do I look?” Zaerini asked, turning around. 

”Simply disgusting,” Edwina said, wrinkling her nose. “Like a malevolent rat, if you must know.” 

“I agree,” Anomen said, looking about ready to gag. “Truly my lady, thy visage is repellent enough to give even the stoutest of knights pause.” 

“Oh, excellent!” the half-elf beamed, looking herself over. “Now let’s try the voice. ‘Hurrrrrnnnnhhh…I’m always happy to offer…entertainment.’ How’s that?”

“Perfect,” Jaheira said, nodding with approval. “It makes me want to break your skull open with my staff, just the reaction it is supposed to elicit.” 

Grinning, Rini turned towards the ladder. _Now and then Daddy Bhaal’s inheritance really comes in handy, I have to admit that._

_You could have taken on your cat shape, you know_ , Softpaws remarked from the floor. _Far more attractive._

_Yes, but then I wouldn’t be able to actually talk to them, would I? No, for this party I plan to attend as ‘Lethinan – Repulsive Slaver’._

The brief illusion that her divine blood could provide her with wasn’t a full shapechange as such, but unless she came into close contact with the slavers upstairs it should suffice. “Well,” she said, still marveling at the hissing sneer that seemed inherent in Lehtinan’s voice, “wish me luck, you guys.” With that, she climbed the ladder, going as fast as she could in order to try to suppress the brief flutter of fear in her stomach. 

As she reached the top, she found herself at one end of a fairly large room, with barrels and boxes stacked in the middle. She could see two doors at the other side of the room, one of them on top of a small staircase. All around was the persistent sound of creaking wood, as the old dry-docked ship that was the slavers’ headquarters shifted and settled with the movements of the people within. Speaking of people, there were some of those present as well. A few strong and tough-looking men armed with swords and bows. One of them was especially large, not as tall as Minsc but not far behind either. As he noticed her, he turned and gaped. 

“Lehtinan? What are you doing here?” 

“I’ve come to pick up the…merchandise,” the bard said, using her skill at mimicry to imitate the dead innkeepers voice. “The…small merchandise.” 

“What, now? Have you run out of them already?” 

One of the slavers grinned and nudged his companion. “Plenty of uses for young merchandise, you know. If they don’t go to the brothel, the monsters down the fighting pit are always hungry. Some of the crowd down there really enjoy that sort of thing.” 

Rini tried to force herself to maintain a passive expression, but it was extremely difficult since she felt as if she was on the verge of throwing up. _The brothel…I didn’t see any children there but…oh gods. How could anybody actually…and the fighting pit?_ “Yes…” she managed after a few seconds. “They…do go through them. The…monsters that is. Bring out the new ones. I’ll take them myself.” 

The large slaver frowned a little. “You? Don’t you want us to bring them as usual? It’s only down the street, I know, but suppose one of the un-bribed guards runs into you? You’d be swinging before the next dawn.” 

Zaerini thought for a few seconds. “I’ll bring them through the passage,” she said. “Safer that way, no risk of…interference. Nobody will see them except my own men. Now bring them out.”

“What about payment?”

“Hrrrrnnnhhh…come by the Coronet in an hour or so, once the merchandise is in place. I’ll pay you then.” She forced a hideous grin onto her borrowed face. “What? Surely you cannot think I mean to…cheat you? After all, where would I go with a bunch of little brats?” _Have to keep it up…mustn’t let him see that all I want to do is to split his skull. The children are what’s most important._

“Right…” the large man said. “Wait here.” He barked an order to two of his underlings, and they disappeared further into the bowels of the ship. 

_I just hope I can hold the illusion for long enough_ , Rini thought, feeling a few beads of sweat trickle down her neck with the strain. _If I turn back here, with all of them around me…_ It wasn’t really something she wanted to think about. Finally, there was a shuffling sound coming from up the stairs, and she felt her heart catch in her mouth. The slavers were bringing out a group of children, about a dozen of them, both boys and girls. The youngest seemed to be about four, the oldest maybe twelve or so. All were thin, dirty, and had a fearful, despondent look about them. They were chained together, chains connecting iron collars around their necks. She was biting the inside of her cheek now to try to keep her temper under control, biting it hard enough that she could taste blood. 

As the children were walking down the stairs, one of the slavers gave the last one, a little girl, a sharp lash across her legs with the whip he carried, laughing as the child cried out with pain. “Move it!” he shouted. “Your new owner doesn’t have the time to wait while you laze about all day. And if you cross him, he’ll carve all your little hearts out.” 

The children looked at Zaerini, their eyes wide and frightened. Clearly at least some of the murderous rage she was feeling was reflected on her face. She just hoped her eyes hadn’t started glowing again. “Go down the ladder,” she ordered the children. “Quickly, or you’ll be sorry!” _Have to keep it up until we’re all out of here…have to play the part._ She managed another cruel sneer. “You don’t want to make me…hnnnnrrrhhh…unhappy with you.” _I can take this. If they have to, then so do I._ As the first children timidly started descending into the darkness, she sent a mental warning to Softpaws. _Softy, they’re coming down now. Tell Edwina to warn the others to be ready. One of the slavers is standing close by me, straight ahead from the hatch. The other three are off on an angle, to the left. Like this. She sent the mental image along the familiar link. Got it?_

_Got it_ , the cat replied. _Transferred it too._

_Good. Tell her to aim carefully._ The children were almost completely gone now. Then, there was a frightened cry from below. Presumably, the children had run into her friends. _Poor kids…I guess Minsc alone would be enough to frighten anybody if you run into him in the dark and aren’t expecting it._

“What was that?” the slaver leader cried out, and now his eyes were dark with suspicion. “What are you trying to pull here, Lehtinan?” He drew his sword, even as two of the other men reached for their bows. 

_NOW, KITTEN! DUCK!_ Softpaws’ voice rang out inside her head, and she threw herself flat on the ground, rolling aside even as a fireball roared over her head, close enough that she could feel the heat scorching her skin. She gasped for air, but it was hot enough that it almost burned her lungs, and her eyes were tearing from the stinging smoke. The large slaver was screaming, screaming as his blackened flesh cracked and melted, the fat sizzling. For a second, she couldn’t help noticing that it smelled very similar to bacon. Then she tried to put that thought out of her mind. There were more important matters to deal with. 

One of the slavers was chanting a spell now, nervously watching the hatch. Then, Edwina almost jumped out, surrounded by so many magical protection spells that she was glowing like a streetlamp. Rini wished she’d had some too, but she hadn’t dared, since she wasn’t certain if her illusion would be able to mask them. Speaking of which, now the illusion was definitely slipping, she could see her own red hair tumbling forward as she frantically scrambled to try to get to her feet, Minsc’s roaring battle cries ringing in her ears, accompanied by Lilacor’s shouts of ‘Yeeeeha! Poke me in his liver!’ and ‘Blood!’. Presumably her other friends were close behind. Yes, she could hear Jaheira’s voice now, chanting a spell, and the slaver in front of her broke off his own attempt at spellcasting, screaming as thousands of tiny insects swarmed at him, stinging his skin wherever they could get at it. _Got him! But what about…_

The sword struck her from behind, biting deeply into her unprotected side as she was taken by surprise by one slaver who had abandoned his bow for close combat. It hurt. Oh, how it hurt. She gasped with pain, a feeble croak all she could get across her lips. It hurt far too much to scream, it hurt almost too much to breathe. Reflexively, she tried to get her own sword out, even as her other hand pressed against the wound, but she could feel herself weakening second by second. Her hand was slick with blood now, and still it was welling forth, pulsing out of the wound in a red torrent. _No…please, no._ The slaver was before her, triumph in his eyes as he raised his sword for a final, lethal stroke. 

And then there was more blood, spraying over her, splattering her face, almost blinding her. Dimly, she was aware of the dull sound of a body tumbling to the floor, and she soon followed it as her legs gave up and toppled her rapidly into the approaching wet and warm darkness. The last thing she was aware of was Minsc’s voice, sounding as if it was coming from a great distance, raw with desperation. “No! Minsc’s Witch! Not MINSC’S WITCH!” 

She was…in the sunlight? Rini blinked, shielding her eyes against the warm light that trickled down from above. She was lying on the ground, which was actually pretty soft and comfortable, and far above there were leaves, beautiful leaves which were that particular light green color you only see in early spring, when all the world is new. Little white and star-like flowers gleamed on the ground, resembling heavy snowdrifts. _What happened? How did I get here?_ She could remember getting wounded, that terrible pain as the sword bit into her side, and the blood streaming out from between her fingers. _All that blood…I thought I’d die._ Then an uncomfortable thought struck her. _Maybe I am dead? I can’t remember what happened?_ Tentatively, she tried to reach out with her mind. _Softy? Can you hear me?_ There was no reply. Perhaps she was too far away, wherever she was. Or perhaps she was dead. 

“Hello!” a voice suddenly said right next to her ear, and she sat bolt upright, staring about her in apprehension. Then she noticed who had addressed her and felt very silly about her frightened reaction. 

The speaker was a small boy, maybe about seven years old or so from the way he looked, and he was sitting next to her in the grass, watching her interestedly. He was elven, with the typical gracefully pointed ears and somewhat slanted eyes, the same bright green as the fresh leaves, and as the tunic he wore. His hair was dark chestnut. “Feel better?” he asked. 

“I guess so,” Rini said, uncertain about exactly how to address this strange child. _He looks harmless…but I have no idea where I am, or if he is what he seems. And I’ve had a few too many nasty dreams for me to trust easily in them._ “What happened to me?” 

“You almost died,” the child said, very matter-of-factly. “You still could, though the druid and the priest are doing their best. It was a bit of a gamble, wasn’t it?” Then his eyes brightened. “I like it! Not a bad trick either, even though you messed up a little in the end the scam itself worked nicely.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“So,” the boy said, “why did you do it that particular way? You could have just charged in, you know.” 

Zaerini thought about this. “I could have,” she said, twining a strand of her hair around her finger as she spoke. “I thought about it. But then I thought…suppose they notice they’re under attack and decide to hurt the children, out of spite? And once I’d thought of that, I couldn’t not get the kids out first, you see?” 

The little elf nodded. “That’s what I thought,” he said, smiling. Then he stood up and patted her on the head in a gesture that seemed pretty odd coming from a small child. “I guess I’m not really supposed to do this…but what the hey! Rules are meant to be gotten around after all, and I like you! I want to get to know you better.” With that, he winked, and pretended to extract something from inside his pointed ear. Rini was almost confident that she could spot the sleight-of-hand trick he used, but not entirely. As he handed her the object, she saw that it was a leaf. A fairly large leaf, about the size of her palm, and heart shaped. 

“What’s this?” 

The little elf turned around, waving at her. “It’s an invitation to a party!” He laughed, a mischievous giggle like bubbling water. “If you can find it, that is! Bye-bye for now!” 

“Wait! You haven’t told me who you are!” 

“That’s right!” the boy said. “I haven’t!” Then he was gone, with only the hint of laughter ringing in the air, and the sunlight was dwindling as darkness closed in on her once more. _Party…what party…well, as long as I don’t have to go as Lehtinan again. Then there was nothing but pain._


	56. Sequence Of Cards

**Cards Reshuffled 56 – Sequence Of Cards**

_Normally, a Reading will be composed of a small number of cards, maybe four or five. Remember though, that it is the deck that guides the user, not the other way around. Under especially hectic circumstances, with the future pressing in heavily, there may be as much as seven cards, perhaps even eight. Possibly even more, though that would take a very tangled destiny indeed._

_Excerpt from ‘The Chaltar Deck of Cards – An Introduction’_

“Easy, my lady. Do not attempt to move.” 

Zaerini groaned, letting herself subside back onto the fluffy things she was resting against. _Pillows? Yes, pillows. That’s good._ Wearily, she forced her eyes open. Two tired and worried-looking faces were hovering directly above her, one from either side of the bed she was lying in. Anomen’s brown hair was unusually mussed, and there were dark shadows along his jaw and across his cheeks, as if he had forgotten to shave himself. There were dark circles beneath his eyes too, but when they met hers, he sighed with relief, smiling at her. 

Jaheira’s face was equally tense, and the druid’s green eyes were suspiciously shiny. When she noticed that Rini was waking up they instantly took on a stern expression, but not before there was a visible glint of tender concern. “Are you happy now?” Jaheira asked, crossing her arms across her chest. “You almost got yourself killed with that silly stunt! Have you any idea how close a call it was? You had severe internal bleedings, you could barely keep your heart going and Anomen and I…we almost did not manage to…” Her jaw trembled from a moment, and then she grasped the younger half-elf’s hands tightly. “Just…just do not ever worry me like that again!” 

“I’m sorry,” Rini said, smiling faintly up at her friend. “I know I should have been more careful.” 

“Might as well tell a cat not to be curious,” Jaheira said, snorting a little, then gave her a brief hug. “At least you are alive.” 

“I know. Thank you, both of you. I know it was you two who pulled me back. I can’t ever repay that, you know.” 

“There is no need to, my lady,” Anomen said, bowing. He smiled at her; his blue eyes warm. “Your continued presence amongst us is all the reward I would ever wish for. The world would have lost one of its brightest and most beautiful flowers, should we have lost you.”

“Oh! That…that’s a very nice thing to say. Thanks!” _He really can be very sweet sometimes. And he honestly sounds as if he means it…though I’ve never felt less flower-like._

_Well, what do you expect?_ Softpaws sounded rather testy, and she nudged her mistress impatiently in the side with a paw. _The male wishes to mate with you, after all._

_He…WHAT? Anomen wants to…what?_

_You hadn’t noticed? I guess you must be even more preoccupied than I had guessed with your own chosen mate then._

_But…Anomen…_ ”Anomen?” 

“Yes, my lady?” Anomen eagerly said. “What is it?” 

“Er…” Rini said, staring at him with what she thought had to be a pretty dumb expression. Unfortunately, that made him look even more eager, and very pleased. “I…that is…do you…” 

“Yes, my lady?”

“Do you…er…” Feeling utterly helpless, she suddenly felt something inside her still clenched fist. “Do you…recognize this leaf?” She held up the leaf from her dream, a small shiver tickling her spine as she processed the idea that it had followed her into reality. Or had it always been there? 

_Coward_ , Softpaws said. 

_I’m sure you’re wrong! You have to be. Anyway, I can’t just ask him! At least not with Jaheira around._

A look of brief…was it disappointment? Then the squire dutifully looked the small leaf over. “I am sorry, my lady,” he said. “I am not familiar with it.” 

“Ask one more knowledgeable about such things, child,” Jaheira impatiently stated, taking the leaf. “It looks a little like a linden leaf, but it is a little too round, and the color isn’t quite right.” She frowned. “I have never seen one quite like it. Where did you get it?” 

“I’m not entirely sure,” Rini admitted. Already the memory of the dream was fading. There had been somebody who had spoken to her…but who? The only thing she could remember was a pair of bright green eyes. “I guess I’ll hang onto it though. Just in case.” Then she thought of something. “What happened after I was hit?” Sudden fear twisted her guts. “Everybody is all right isn’t sh…they?” 

Jaheira slowly raised an eyebrow. “Oh yes,” she said, her voice neutral. “They are all fine, if very worried about you, of course. And the slavers have all been dealt with.” She pursed her lips. “In fact, I think I had better go downstairs and let ‘everybody’ know you will live, before ‘everybody’ falls quite to pieces. We could have nobody interfering while we were working with you, you see. ‘Everybody’ was quite noisy about that.” 

“Oh…er…all right. So…when will I be able to get out of bed then?” 

A small smirk crossed the druid’s face. “You are staying exactly where you are until tomorrow morning. Your wounds have been healed, but you are still weakened, and you will need time to recuperate. At least it should keep you out of further trouble…I hope. And do not attempt to sneak up out of bed, or I will summon a few vines to make you stay put.” She crossed the floor to the door, laughing softly. Then she turned around, and for a few seconds that tender look was briefly to be seen again. “Children…” she said, shaking her head. Then she walked out the door. 

“My lady,” Anomen said, his voice very earnest. “Is there anything I can get you? Anything I can do to make you more comfortable?” 

“Um…I’m fine, thanks.” Rini desperately stared up into the cleric’s face, trying to read his mind. _Is it really true? Oh gods…what if it is? What do I do about it?_

_Isn’t that obvious, kitten?_ Softpaws asked, sounding curious. _Tell him you have a mate already._

_I can’t tell him that! For one thing, you could be wrong._

The cat purred loudly, settling into the crook of the bard’s arm. _Oh, please. I do love you, kitten, but sometimes you can be very thick. I’m not wrong about this, I know a male in mating-frenzy when I see one._

_Well…even if you are right, I can’t just tell him ‘I don’t love you!’_

_Why not?_

_It would hurt his feelings tremendously!_

Softpaws was silent for a few seconds. When she spoke again, she sounded genuinely puzzled. _What difference does that make? He is not the one you want for a mate anyway._

_Oh, I give up. No, I’ll have to try to figure out how he really feels, and if you are right, then I’ll have to let him down gently._

“My lady?” Anomen said. “You suddenly look…a little sad? I have not offended you in some way, I hope?” He sounded quite anxious. 

“No Anomen,” Zaerini hastily said. “You haven’t offended me in any way. I…just have a lot on my mind right now, I guess.” 

“I am glad to hear it,” Anomen said, sighing with relief. He sat down on a chair by the bedside and rubbed his knuckles wearily against his neck. “For all my aspirations to knightly honor and virtue, I have not always the way with words that I would wish. I have on occasion been known to give offence without intending to do so.” He suddenly smiled. “My sister, Moira, once told me that I have the manners of a bull that has just sat on a wasp. I fear she has partially the right of it, my temper has always been short.” Almost as quickly as it had come, the smile faded. “I...I think of my sister, sometimes, alone in the manor with my father. From the last letter I received, it seemed as if she was bearing up well. I think she was merely trying to ease my guilt, though. It cannot be easy for her, and I wish that I could take her away and send her somewhere where she would be happy.”

“What prevents you?” Rini carefully asked. 

“She is not entirely different from you, my lady,” Anomen wryly said. “Moira can be stubborn... she refuses to leave our father's side even at his drunken worst, staying to take care of him. Since our mother died, I think she can hardly imagine doing anything else. I hope that old bastard does not treat her too harshly.” He sighed again. “You understand this, do you not? After all, your own sister is in great peril.” 

_Immy…what would she think of all this? What would she say? Would she tease me for being foolish enough not to notice what was going on? Then again…after that thing with Adahn, she’d likely not. At least not very much. Oh, I miss her teasing so much…_ ”Yes,” the half-elf said. “Yes Anomen, I do understand.” 

“I am glad to hear it,” he said, sounding happier once more. “It does my heart good to know we have some common ground, my lady, and perhaps more may be found.” He rose from the chair, and then took her hand, kissing it lightly. “And now I shall leave you to your repose. I have already tired you overlong.” As he approached the door, she thought she could hear him whistling faintly. 

_Well_ , Softpaws said. _That went well. I see the subtle approach is really doing a good job with this one._

_Softy…please don’t. This is difficult enough as it is._

Her familiar gave her an encouraging nudge on the neck with a small and very cold nose. _I am sorry, kitten. But you really do need to do something about this._

_I know. But what can I do? I haven’t done anything but try to be his friend, and I still want to be his friend. I never intended for him to think I wanted to be more than that, I really didn’t. And as long as he hasn’t actually said anything, I really don’t know what to do. I mean, I don’t want to give him false hopes, but I can’t start being rude to him to make him lose interest, and…and I just don’t know what to say to him!_

_Well, if you cannot say it outright, then you have no choice but to wait until the male makes an open effort. And he will. Trust me._ The black cat snuggled even closer to her than before, the furry body feeling very comforting against her. _Kitten?_

_Yes?_

_I was very worried about you too, you know. Very much. We are bonded, you and I…I could not bear to lose you. Please try to stay alive?_

_Oh, Softy…of course I will. And thank you._ Eventually she fell asleep, her arm still around her familiar’s warm body, and the soft sound of purring soothing her troubled thoughts. If she dreamt, she did not recall it afterwards. And that was something of a blessing. 

Once Zaerini woke up, it was getting dark in the room, so presumably evening was approaching. She was happy to notice that she was feeling much better – and also that she wasn’t alone. Edwina was sitting on the chair by the bedside that Anomen had previously vacated, with her spellbook in her lap. Presumably she had meant to study it, but her eyes weren’t paying any attention whatsoever to the pages. Instead, the bard felt a little jolt of happiness when she saw that the eyes in question were intently focused on her. Lovely dark eyes…but currently they also looked tired, and a little red around the edges. And Edwina’s hair was mussed too, as if she hadn’t been combing it in her normal meticulous fashion. 

“You are awake?” the wizard blurted out. “How are you feeling? Do you hurt anywhere? Do you need anything?” She leaned closer, gingerly touching the half-elf’s red hair, smoothing it back a little, tucking it behind her lightly pointed ear. The sensation of fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of her ear was one that made Rini draw in breath quickly. _Oh…I never knew that could feel so good. It’s not the same when I rub my ears._

“I’m fine I think,” she said, smiling up at Edwina. “Better than fine. I’m glad you’re here.” 

“I would have been here sooner,” the wizard said, annoyance flashing in her dark eyes. “But that tree-hugger and the obnoxious Helmite wouldn’t let me in. (All-seeing Eye indeed…I know just what that priest wants to look at.) At least they managed to keep you alive.” She shook her head. “I see I must keep closer by you in the next battle, so that my immensely powerful magic will better be able to protect you from the folly of your own mistakes. What were you thinking? How could you let yourself get surprised like that? You could have been killed! I thought you had been killed…” Her voice caught, and it was a few seconds before she went on. “I really did.”

“I know,” Zaerini said, taking the wizard’s hand. “I’m sorry you were worried – but it’s not as if I did it on purpose, you know.” 

“Well, just don’t do it again! Would you deprive me of the one person in this group capable of keeping up with my genius? (I lost her once. Losing her a second time would be more than I could bear.)”

“No…we couldn’t have that, now could we? How are you feeling, anyway? You look pretty exhausted. And your eyes are all puffy.” 

“Ah…” Edwina said, flushing a little as she rubbed at her eyes. “I am perhaps just a little bit tired. I have been sitting here for a while after all, studying my spells. One of us has to be on guard after all.” 

“If you say so,” Rini said, grinning a little. “I’m glad you did. And speaking of keeping guard against things, I think it’s about time I did another Reading. We need to decide what to do next, and with so many different jobs available, some advice will be good. Who knows, maybe this time I’ll even get lucky and get a tip about which horse will win at a race or something like that.” 

“Just be careful,” the wizard hastily added. “I don’t want you to tire yourself out, you know. You’ve only just woken up. Perhaps I could fetch you something to eat first? I’m sure I can manage to conjure a glorious feast, with delicacies from all over Faerun! That will help you get your strength back. (As well as give me an opportunity to watch her pop various goodies in between those lovely lips of hers…)”

“Edwina, I’m fine! Honestly!” 

“Ha! That’s what you say! Rogues…determined to run themselves into the ground, the lot of them. Yes, yes, all right! But I am staying right here, to watch you closely and make certain you don’t almost get yourself killed. Again, I might add.” 

“Fine. If you want to help, then you can get my deck of cards out of my pack, and then come sit here on the bed.” _She’s sweet when she’s being protective…but I’m not about to let her boss me about either._

Edwina suddenly went a little wide-eyed. “Sit? There? On the bed?” 

“You wanted to stay close, didn’t you? That’s as close as you can get, you’ll be able to keep perfect watch over me.” _I have to get her more used to being close to me without being embarrassed about her new body. And the best way should be to show her that I’m not._ She gave Edwina an innocent smile. “Come on, you said you wanted to help.” 

Edwina looked a little suspicious about this, but she did fetch the cards, and then sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed. “There,” she said. “Satisfied?”

Rini managed to pull herself into a sitting position against her pillows. She felt a little lightheaded, but it soon passed. “Almost,” she said. “But there’s one more thing…”

“Yes?”

“My latest Reading was pretty unpleasant. This one might well be just as bad.” She shuddered at the memory. It said I would bring murder to all of my friends, and worse. I’m afraid to see more…but I have to. I have to learn all I can. “When I come back…I want you to be there.” She looked the wizard straight in the eyes. “I want you to be there, really close, so that I know I’m not alone. Will you do that?” 

Edwina nodded. “Yes,” she said, her voice a little strained. “Of course, Hellkitten. I will.” 

The bard gave a small smile as she shuffled the deck of cards, letting them spin between her fingers like raindrops falling from the sky, spreading them out like a fan. “Thank you, Dread Wizard. I thought you would.” Then she concentrated on the cards, trying to focus as hard as possible. _Show me what awaits me and those close to me in the near future; whatever is important for me to know. And…especially anything about murder, or death threatening them, and what I can do to prevent it. I will prevent it, if it is at all possible._ Rapidly she selected a number of cards, laid them out on the bed and turned them over. 

The Six of Coins, inverted, and coupled with the Hermit. Then the Queen of Swords and the Hanged Man. Then a group of several cards, in two sequences. First Temperance, The World and Death. Close by were The Lovers, coupled with the Three of Coins. Next the Queen of Rods, with Justice inverted. After that, the Fool. Another group came next, the High Priestess inverted, together with the Moon. And finally, the Rogue, together with the Queen of Cups, inverted. As she focused on the cards, the world shifted around her, and then it blurred as she felt her consciousness fading, and the cards rushing towards her. 

This time around she was standing in a vast and dark hall, with torches gleaming down from the walls. The walls themselves were tall enough that she couldn’t even see the ceiling, for the shadows concealed it utterly. And speaking of shadows, there were plenty of those on the ground as well, and she had an uncomfortable feeling that unpleasant things might be lurking inside them. As she crossed the floor, she tried to walk as softly as possible, to avoid making any noise. 

Zaerini was just approaching one of the walls, when she noticed that something had changed. She hadn’t seen them before, and was certain they hadn’t been there, but now there were statues all around her, standing in niches in the walls. Even as she turned to try to make them out better, they blurred, and she jumped a little as she suddenly found herself surrounded by a vast ring of statues, spread about on the floor in smaller groups. The floor was black and white, she noticed. It was patterned like a chessboard, and the statues increased the impression of a game underway. _But who is playing, I wonder? And who is winning?_

She stepped closer to the first group of statues, examining it. A man in a cowled robe was sitting on a throne, clutching a moneybag tightly. He held his hand out as if to offer alms to the beggars kneeling at his feet, but as she looked more closely, she could see that his palm actually contained a dagger. Behind him stood another male shape, a tall and muscular man, and his face was also hidden by his cloak. She could make out the hint of a sword at his hip, though. He was holding a lantern aloft, and as she watched the statues, the lantern started glowing. The two men came alive, with the one on the throne beckoning her forwards, the one behind raising his hand as if to ward her off. _I recognize the lantern, and the moneybag. The one on the throne is Six of Coins inverted, and the other must be the Hermit. Six of Coins inverted…that means too strong ambition, coupled with cruelty and greed._ “Who are you?” Rini asked. “What can you do for me?”

“It is not what I can do for you, it is what you can do for me,” said the cowled man on the throne. “I have requested you to meet with me, yet you delay. You must seek me out, and then, later, you must seek him.” He made a derisive gesture in the Hermit’s direction. 

“He is untrustworthy,” the Hermit flatly stated. “He seeks to betray you, as is the way of his kind. Yet you must do as he says, for now. Through him you will find me, and through me you will acquire the means to do what must be done if you wish for your happiness to last.” 

“What?” the half-elf asked, feeling very confused. “What is it that must be done?”

“You must pick the moon out of the sky,” the Hermit said, still in that terse, dark voice. “If you do not, then you will lose all, just when you think you have won. Do as you like – I have nothing else to say.” 

The two statues disappeared, simply winking out of existence, and Rini stood still for a few moments, trying to think. The Six of Coins had worn clothes she recognized, the attire of a Cowled Wizard. It reminded her of something, but she couldn’t remember what it was at the moment. It would have to wait. 

Another group of statues was before her now. There was a beautiful, regal woman, with a strong and determined face that still had minute traces of sadness to it. She was bound, chains encircling her, imprisoning her. By her side was the Hanged Man, a shapeless figure dangling from a rope, his features blurred and indistinct. “In this place, I am the Queen of Swords, though you should not expect to see me wield one,” the woman said. “It galls me to be in this humiliating position, but I require your help, or will soon do so.” 

“What kind of help? And how will I know you?”

“You know me already,” the woman said with a small smirk. “You will know me when you see me and know what kind of aid I need.” She spat at the Hanged Man. “Sacrifices…how dare they! If I can, I will tear their still beating hearts out of their chests and trample them beneath my feet!” Then she calmed herself. “You are the only one I can trust. Help me, and I will not forget it.” 

With that, the statues faded away. _Somebody I know? But who? And what’s all that about sacrifices? Well, she said I would know her when I met her, at least._

Next came a larger group of statues. A woman was standing in the middle, holding a balancing scale aloft with a concentrated expression on her face. The scale held a skull and a small replica of Toril itself, and it was teetering back and forth between them as the woman tried to hold them in balance. 

A little distance away was the Lovers, a man and a woman entwined in a passionate embrace, and they were doing so in front of an oblivious craftsman working on another group of life-size statues. There were six of those, but so far, no individual features could be recognized. 

“You must be Temperance,” Rini said to the woman holding the skull and the world. 

“I am,” the woman said in a neutral voice. “My task is to keep the balance – but the task has grown more difficult. Death has grown too heavy compared to Life, and there is a wrongness at work within the very core of my power. If you help restore the balance, then and only then will you be able to go on to them.” She pointed at the lovers, and then faded away. 

“She is right,” the female of the two lovers said, and Rini felt herself flushing as she noticed that the woman resembled herself. “Do as she says, and the Three of Coins will be happy to serve you, helping you to get what you want.” She grinned. “Sometimes you have to make a public statement if you want to get anywhere.” The statues disappeared, still engaged in what seemed to be a very pleasurable activity. 

_Well_ , Rini thought. _If I can get that sort of thing, then I’ll be happy to help I guess._ She moved on, and soon reached the next group of statues. Here she saw another woman, one younger-looking than the previous one, who was leaning on a simple staff. She too, looked sad, but also kind. By her side was Justice Inverted, a man whose face seemed pleasant at first, until you noticed that he was actually raising a sword towards the woman’s unprotected back. “Here, I am the Queen of Rods,” the woman said. “I have never met you, and I fear we never shall meet. I have advice to give you, and a boon to ask of you.” 

“All right,” Zaerini said, hesitating a little. “But if we’ve never met and never will meet, how can you have anything to say to me?” 

“One dear to me is also dear to you,” the woman said with a sad smile. “For that one’s sake, I beg you to listen now, for dark times are coming. My advice is this: Do not trust in first appearances. Things are often different than they seem at first, especially when people have secrets to keep. Remember this when you are asked for advice, for sometimes rash actions will bring tragedy. I ask you to keep that in mind, and to give not only advice, but help, to one who will soon need it. He must learn many things, and I fear the lessons will be very painful.”

“But can’t you just tell me exactly what I need to know?”

“I fear not. It is important that you and he discover these things for yourselves, as I am certain you will. Farewell now, I place my trust in you.” 

_Not very helpful. I hope the next one’s less cryptic._

The next statue stood alone, a tall young man dressed in motley and wearing a masque. “Oho, the proud Raven finally descends from on high to circle this humble sparrow!” he said, grinning. “Is there merriment to come, I wonder, or perhaps disaster? Ah, it matters little, in the end we are all dust on the wind.” 

“You would be the Fool, I take it?”

“Fool? Thy words sting like the poisonous tongue of the critic, my Raven! For shame. Say rather that I am an artist, much like yourself.”

“Another bard, is it?”

“’Tis so, Raven. You must encourage that side of yourself more, you know it’s true. You miss the thrill of the stage, the devotion of the crowd, the bright lights, the roar of applause heralding your arrival. You need it in order to thrive and flourish. Find me, and fame shall certainly find you.” He winked at her and bowed, then disappeared. 

_Wow. A nice foretelling for a change. Still cryptic, but at least nice._

Two more groups of statues remained. As Rini approached the first one, she felt crawling unease, and had to force herself to go on. The High Priestess stood there, a short woman with a cruel smile on her face, and she was holding a bloody sacrificial knife aloft over a gutted corpse on the ground. The Moon spread a pale light over the grisly scene, held in the jaws of a hideous tentacled beast. “You dare to approach?” the High Priestess sneered. “I am pleased to see it. Know that I have every intention to make you writhe with pain for the indignities visited upon me, and to serve my Mistress. And not only you, but my old foes as well. The wizard as well as the…other one.” 

“Aerie,” Zaerini snarled, her hands clenching into fists. “If you do anything to hurt me, or Edwin, then I swear to you that you will be the one to suffer.” She gave the other woman a triumphant look. “But in this place, I rule. You are an image of yourself, and you must answer me. Tell me how you are threatening me.” 

“I will tell only as much as I have to, ignorant half-breed! You cannot force me to reveal all. Know then, that forces will soon be arrayed against you, forces against which you have no proper defense, for they will use no weapons against you. And even should you prevail, it will not be our final meeting. A victory now will only make your failure later all the heavier to bear.” She wiped the bloody knife off on her robe, and her eyes glittered with pleasure as she faded away. 

Rini shuddered, and she stood still for a few minutes as she considered the vision. _The Moon signifies hidden enemies, I guess that’s what she was referring to. Not very clear, any of it, I’ll simply have to be on guard. Though I wonder…what did she mean by forces I can’t defend against? That has to be a clue._

Eventually she moved on, facing the final statues. One was a woman, the other a man. The woman was beautiful and alluring, her attractive curves barely concealed by the very revealing outfit she wore, but her eyes were cold and cruel, even as she pretended seductiveness. _The Queen of Cups inverted. Sensual nature turned selfish and vicious…not a pretty sight._ The man she recognized very well, it was the familiar shape of the Rogue, his hood pulled up so that it concealed most of his face. She thought she could see the hint of an amused smirk on his face though. “Adahn,” she said. “I should have expected you’d turn up, I guess.” 

“Yes,” the Rogue agreed. “You really should have. I told you earlier that I was on my way, did I not? Our meeting approaches, though it is still some time in the future. Right now, I’m about to become very busy with her.” He nodded towards the inverted Queen of Cups. “She’s thoroughly nasty, but it will help us all eventually, so I’ll have to put up with her for now.” 

“Who is she then?” 

“I am the Huntress,” the woman said in a sultry voice. “I am death for you, just as you are life for me. It matters not where you run…in the end I will be there.” 

“I suppose I don’t have to tell you not to trust her?” the Rogue said. “No? Good. I will see you later then…I have things to attend to.” He turned towards the Queen of Cups again, watching her warily, and she snarled at him in return. “Oh yes,” the Rogue said as he started to fade from sight. “If she should ask you to come to her place for dinner, just decline unless you wish to be the main course.”


	57. On The Home Front

**Cards Reshuffled 57 – On The Home Front**

_Being in terrible danger is bad enough, of course. But knowing that people you love are in terrible danger, and that you can do nothing about it, that’s even worse. It’s enough to make even the most mild-mannered person a little tense, I guess._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“TAKE THAT, YOU DISGUSTING PIECE OF PORK DRIPPINGS!” The fireball made a humming sound as it flew through the air, and then exploded against the far wall in a roaring inferno, reducing the sparring dummy that stood there to a small pile of charcoal. The wizardess standing in the middle of the practice hall gave a small and satisfied smile, then snapped her fingers. Another sparring dummy emerged from a hatch in the floor, this one more strongly enchanted than the previous one. As it strode towards her, waving a sword, she made a sweeping gesture with her hand, there was a loud rumbling noise, and the ground shook as a huge clumps of ice fell out of empty air, crushing the automaton to little bits. “Again,” Elvira Odesseiron snarled, her black hair giving off small purple sparks of latent magic as she ran her fingers through it. “And this time…top level of danger. No precautions.” 

“Mistress?” The neutral female voice came out of nowhere, or perhaps out of the walls themselves. It had been designed to be emotionless, but at the moment it still somehow managed to sound skeptical. “Are you certain?”

“Of course I’m certain! Now do it, or I’ll dismantle you with my bare hands! I WANT DESTRUCTION!” 

“Very well,” the voice said. “All safety measures are now disabled. The room is sealed until all enemies have been destroyed. Top level of danger…engaged.” 

_Oh yes_ , Elvira thought, flexing her fingers. _This is exactly what I need._ Several magical shields sprang up around her, just in time to repel the attack when it came. This time the constructs weren’t all warriors; several of them had been built to have innate magical abilities. They were larger too, towering over her like giants, blank faces turning towards her. Rapidly, she chanted her first spell, and a human skull whirred through the air towards the first few constructs, its eyes glowing an ominous blue. It exploded as it struck them, shattering with an ear-splitting boom, and one of the constructs collapsed to the ground, its head blown away. The others were still coming for her though.

“Let’s see how you like this…” Elvira hissed, and raised her hands. Several blue-white lightning bolts arced from her fingertips, leaping between the constructs like a bee flitting from one flower to the next. The constructs faltered in their steps, staggering, and two more of them fell, with sparks still crackling along their bodies. Now the wizardess was forced to retreat though, and she narrowly dodged a blow from a fist the size of her own head. Another struck her shields, catching fire as the magical protections were engaged. Yet they wouldn’t hold forever, she knew that much. Right. Time to end this, here and now. Her voice rose to an ominous crescendo as she recited her next spell, and she felt the magic raging through her body, running wild like the storm, surging like an unstoppable tidal wave. _Oh yes…this is it. This is what it is to be truly alive._ Then she released the spell, and several tons of burning rocks screamed out of the air above the constructs. The noise of shattering metal and pottery was deafening, and the heat was almost enough to make her stagger, but she made herself stand in place, her hair streaming out behind her in the force of the infernal wind that wailed at her. 

When it was over, Elvira smiled contentedly, surveying the battlefield. The constructs had all been smashed to bits; several of them set ablaze by fire hot enough to make rocks crack and metal melt. There were scorch marks all over the walls, the floor had melted in one spot, and one of the walls had been transformed into liquid mud while another had inexplicably spouted about five hundred very pink and very nervous eyes. “What are you looking at?” she snapped, glaring back at the eyes, and with a small and terrified squelching sound they all pinched themselves shut in order not to anger her further. There was a large pool of acid covering part of the floor, and about to eat through it. Fortunately, this was the lowest basement level of the Odesseiron Mansion though, and there were no floors beneath them. Oh yes…and there was the mummified corpse of that creature that had released the acid, the one she had thought would be a challenge as she conjured it up. It had spindly legs, an ugly insectile head and acid dripped from the body, especially from the toothy mouth. It had died very quickly though, no fun at all. Just one Horrid Wilting and it had collapsed in on itself, a dried husk. _I suppose I shall have to send some servants down here to clean up a bit. It looks like I caused a bit of a mess._ Elvira smoothed her black hair back, then adjusted her robe. _But it was very relaxing. Just what I needed to improve my mood before I set fire to something that actually matters._

As the wizardess ascended the winding stone staircase that led from the subterranean practice hall, she felt at least a little better than she had before. Briefly, she contemplated heading for her lab, in order to do some work. _No. I need to take a bath first, I think. I got quite worked up there for a while. Yes, a bath will be nice, with that new scent mixture I bought, and then something to eat perhaps._ She passed by a window and noticed that the sky was already darkening from deep purple to velvet black. _Hm…I must have been down there longer than I thought. It will soon be time to go to bed._ Her soft, comfortable, spacious, and above all lonely bed. 

_Where is he? What could possibly have happened?_ Now she had entered her own chambers, and she shut the door behind her with a very satisfying bang that made the walls tremble. Plaster floated down from the ceiling, settling like snowflakes in her dark hair. Elvira ignored that though, she had more important things to worry about, and she meant to take that bath anyway. She disrobed as she went, leaving a messy trail of elegant and expensive little bits of cloth behind her, and then entered the bathroom. The bath was already awaiting her in the round green marble tub, large enough to accommodate two people easily. Hot water, steaming in the air, with inviting bubbles floating on top, and with a pleasant scent of jasmine, vanilla and roses in the air. A small spell set on the tub had kept her bath at perfect temperature while she worked out, and now she gratefully slipped into it, her long hair floating out around her like an exotic plant. She sighed deeply, trying to relax. It wasn’t an easy task though. She kept longing for somebody else to be there with her. And that wasn’t even the worst of it. 

She had been torn from the start about Edwin going on that mission, so far away from home. Her baby had never been away for that long, nor had he traveled that far. She had worried about him not eating or sleeping properly, about him catching cold from not wearing warm enough robes, and even about her poor child being led astray by some manipulative little hussy who wanted to take advantage of his sweet and generous nature. No, she really hadn’t wanted him to go, but on the other hand it had been such a great opportunity for him to prove himself, and to advance in the ranks of the Red Wizards. She had known that sooner or later he would have to prove himself in one way or another, just as she had done at that age, and that meant taking risks, no matter how much she hated that thought. And he had nagged her so about it, telling her that he was old enough and could handle himself, and besides, he wouldn’t be alone, would he? His teacher had agreed to come with him, after all, and surely, she trusted him? And of course, she did. She would trust her beloved with her life, and more, with the life of their only child. There was nobody else in the world she would trust with that. And so, she had agreed, and they had gone, and there was a great gaping hole in the world where her two loved ones ought to be. 

She had waited, and worried, and waited some more, and her temper had deteriorated steadily. Even her normally so oblivious husband had finally noticed it. Good thing he was so preoccupied with his latest hobby, planar research, or she might not have been able to keep from actually harming him. Before he got into that he had told her about twenty times a day that she should ‘cheer up’, and it had reached the point where she contemplated cheerfully killing him. _Cheer up? How can I possibly cheer up when my baby…when they both could be in hideous danger?_ And then, disaster had struck. Complete and utter disaster, and she still hadn’t recovered from the blow. The details had been extremely fuzzy, but the bare bones of it was that her son, for some reason known only to him, had killed the Red Wizard supervising his mission. Of course, slaying a superior was a very common and natural way of advancing your career, but not like that. Not while on alien ground, trying to carry out some sensitive and delicate mission. Zulkir Nevron had been enraged, and he had decided that an example needed to be made. 

_My baby…my poor little Edwin._ The Zulkir had decreed that her son was an exile, a rogue wizard to be hunted down and killed like an animal. She shuddered with rage as she remembered the day when she had been informed of this fact by that little strumpet Zabina Ravonar, the daughter of her old arch nemesis Rory Ravonar. Rory ‘the Roarer’ himself she hadn’t been forced to deal with for a very long time, but his snide daughter had been only too happy to take up the family feud again. Elvira took a deep breath, deep enough that the bubbles jumped like the foam of a mountain river. She could well remember how pleasant it had been to watch the snide little smirk freeze on the girl’s face as a lumbering skeleton warrior stepped up behind her and laid a skeletal hand on her shoulder. After the floor of the Tharchion’s council chambers had been cleaned, nobody else had seen fit to say anything derogatory about Edwin, at least not when she was around to hear it. 

The situation was still precarious though, she mused as she stepped out of her bath, impatiently wrapping a thick bathrobe about herself. Edwin’s exile had of necessity made her position more dangerous. Her old enemies were trying to take advantage of what they perceived as a weakness, and she had less support than she used to among the ranks of the Red Wizards. She should be able to regain it in time, but in the meantime, she was blocked, and there was little she could do to help her son regain favor. It would take time and some careful maneuvering before she had stabilized her position enough that she could use her political clout on Edwin’s behalf. Who knew what might happen to him in the meantime, roaming the barbarian wildernesses? _My own Edwin, hunted like a wild beast, probably living in a cave eating roots and berries, and I cannot help him. It’s intolerable!_ The hot anger started simmering again, right beneath the surface of her thoughts, as it had done since she first learnt the news. She looked about herself in the bathroom. Bathtub…no use. Basin…also no good. Towel-rack…useless. _Oh yes. Of course. Mirror. Just perfect._ “AAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!” Elvira screamed. Sizzling bolts of magical energy shot out from her outstretched palm as she snarled out the words of a spell and the mirror cracked from side to side, and then was pulverized. She only wished it could have been Nevron, Zulkir of Conjuration instead, for putting her baby in danger. 

Crossing back into the bedroom again she carefully brushed out her hair, trying her best not to yank at it in frustration. It wouldn’t do to take her anger out on herself. Far better to take it out on other people. That, in turn, led her thoughts once more in the direction of her lover, whom she had always thought had a very worrying tendency to do the exact opposite. She had tried not to think about that too much, but it was hard not to. She knew her beloved after all. He wouldn’t ever have let anything like this happen to Edwin if there was anything at all he could have done to prevent it. And worse, none of the reports about the Baldur’s Gate incident had mentioned him at all. It was as if the ground had opened up and swallowed him whole. 

Closing her eyes briefly, Elvira fought to control the worry that once again threatened to overcome her. _My Wolf…where are you?_ He had promised to return to her, that they both would, and she had never known him to break a promise. Where could he be? Why wasn’t he with Edwin? _He is alive. He has to be. He simply has to be._ She had tried to scry for them both, more than once, her lover and their child. But it was…difficult, more so than usual. Her beloved had always been difficult to pick up with a scrying spell, and now she couldn’t get a sense of him at all. Probably he was deliberately cloaking his presence, a worrying sign in itself, because that meant that entirely separate from Edwin’s predicament he was in some form of danger of his own. _If he is alive. NO! He is! He has to be! I will not allow him to be dead!_ She forced her breathing to calm once more. Edwin she could get a vague impression of, far to the west, but she couldn’t pinpoint his location. She suspected she knew the reason for it too; the way his amulet functioned made it likely that it would help masque his presence, at least partially. Hopefully, it would also shield him against other, less benevolent eyes than hers. 

The sheets were smooth and cool against her body as she slipped into bed, but relaxation was the last thing on her mind. She desperately longed for her beloved to be there. She tried to imagine him there, right next to her. Looking deeply into her eyes, stroking her skin, his body hot against hers. More than anything else, she longed for his presence, to hear his voice, to be able to share her worries over Edwin with him. _We have always been forced to be apart – but never like this, never for so long. What if he will not return? What if…what if he is already dead, and I never even knew? No…no! He promised to return! He will! I know he will…he has to._

Elvira turned over in bed once more, irritably rearranging the soft sheets. If she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend that she heard the voice she longed to hear, as silky as the sheets. 

_I told you, my love. I always keep my promises._ Always. Lips against her own, then lightly kissing their way along her throat and downwards, lighting tender fires in her skin. _Wherever I may wander, you know that I will always return to you._ One hand cupping her breast, skillfully teasing it to make her gasp with pleasure, the other one equally busy elsewhere. _Every day we are apart, I long for you, you know that._ She was touching him too, kissing, stroking, nibbling, anything to convince herself that he was there, with her. Perfect. So perfect…

_I love you, my Wolf. I love you so much. And I order you never to leave like that again._

He was paying attention to her ear now, nibbling it a little, and as she ran her hands down his back, he trembled a little, telling her that he was enjoying himself just as much as she was. _I love you too…more than anything. But you know I cannot promise that. You know why I left, after all._

_I know. And…I know you aren’t here. Not really. Beloved, you will protect Edwin in any way you can, I know that. But…_

_Yes?_

_But please, my Wolf. Protect yourself as well. I want you to come back in one piece. Just please be careful._

_Of course I will be._ The man actually sounded amused at this, damn him. _You know I will. I’m always careful._ One final, tender kiss, and she was alone in bed once more, the dream fading beyond her reach no matter how she tried to recapture it. 

“Yes…” Elvira whispered silently to the darkness. “I know you think so.” And as she clutched her pillow tightly, burying her face in it, she finally allowed the tears to come. Silently, with nobody there to dry them for her.


	58. Thayvian Diplomacy

**Cards Reshuffled 58 – Thayvian Diplomacy**

_Everybody has strengths and weaknesses, and as a party leader you need to try to take advantage of the strengths of your party members and compensate for their weaknesses. For one thing, it is probably a bad idea to ask your paladin to accompany you on a burglary, or the resident wizard to fight hand-to-hand. And never, ever, under any circumstances, do I suggest that a certain Red Wizard handle any sensitive negotiations. Not unless I feel like seeing things explode._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

The sun was smiling down from a beautiful bright blue sky. Little birds were soaring high above the rooftops of Atkatla singing beautiful hymns to the kindness and benevolence inherent in all mankind. All right, it was mostly seagulls. And they were basically screeching hungry obscenities, but at least they were soaring. In the streets, people were shouting out cheerful greetings such as ‘Your money or your life’, ‘Move it, fatso!’ or ‘Sod off if you’re not buying anything!’, thus creating a pleasant counterpart to the seagulls. 

_Perhaps I have been mistaken all along. Clearly most humans have more in common with seagulls than any other animal. They are loud, dirty, uncultured, and relieve themselves all over the place. Just look at the streets of this city! You would never find a Thayvian street looking like this, with garbage and…and excrement all over the place!_

_How come, Boss?_

_Mainly, monkey, because anybody caught dumping their chamber pot out through the window will never again repeat the offence. Or be able to, for that matter. Behold._

_Eeewww! Boss, that’s disgusting! Do you have to show me things like that?_

_And this comes from somebody who keeps urging me to ‘flaunt my bottom’ in public?_

_Yeah, but that’s different. Why do humans do that sort of thing?_

Edwina shrugged, absent-mindedly reaching her hand up to her shoulder in order to stroke her familiar’s silky fur. The soft warmth felt…nice. Soothing, even. _It is the law. And there is a point to it. There is far less disease now than there used to be, keeping the nation stronger._

The monkey pressed himself further into the palm of her hand, nuzzling it a little. _Maybe, but it’s still gross. I’m not sure I’ll ever understand humans. D’you know what Softpaws says that her person likes to do?_

_No. And Softpaws shouldn’t go spreading tales._

_Aw, come on, Boss! It’s no big deal. Anyway, Softy says that sometimes, when the Pretty Cat Lady wants to relax, she likes to get all naked, and then she…_

_NO! I do not want to hear this! Well, I do, but that is beside the point. I mean…that is…it’s not right for me to know that. Not unless she tells me herself. Or shows me. And it’s not as if she’s about to do that anyway, not while I’m stuck in this ridiculous body._

_I don’t think so, Boss. I think she’s far less likely to be shy about it at the moment, actually._

_What?_

_Sure! She’s a woman…you’re a woman. It’s the sort of thing women do together, don’t you know?_

_Together…but…are you sure?_

_Just ask her if you don’t believe me._

_Monkey, are you quite insane? I can’t ask her to…to…_ Edwina felt a hot blush spreading across her face, as she contemplated the end to that sentence. It wasn’t made any better as she turned her head to see Zaerini walking next to her. The half-elf’s red hair was gleaming in the sunlight, and she looked fully restored from the wound she had sustained during the battle with the slavers. Her step was light and graceful once more, her color healthy, and as she turned to smile at the wizard her golden eyes sparkled with mischief and good humor. 

“Something the matter?” Zaerini asked. “You look a little hot.” 

“Hot…no, no! Not at all!” Edwina lied through her teeth, fidgeting with her robe. Unfortunately, this reminded her of her female form, and that in turn reminded her of… 

“Are you sure? You’re completely red in the face, you know. And sweaty too. And very tense.”

“Um…fine. Just fine! Insufferable is simply being…insufferable.” 

The bard grinned at the little monkey, tickling him under his furry chin, and Insufferable chirped happily and quite shamelessly rubbed himself against her hand in a way that Edwina privately decided qualified as public indecency. “But he’s so cute…it’s impossible to resist him.” 

_See, Boss? I’M A LOVE MAGNET! Watch and learn, she adores me. I’ll be eating out of her palm any moment now._

_Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?_

_Whatever for? I’d rather she feed me. Anyway, just watch me now! Yeah baby!_

_Monkey, NO!_

There were a few seconds of silence. 

“Edwina?” Zaerini eventually said, holding her hand up, Insufferable still attached to it. “Do you think you could pry your monkey off my finger? It looks like he’s getting a little over-excited, and I’m starting to develop friction burns.” 

Edwina privately wished it had been possible for her to stuff herself into a Bag of Holding, and then throw it away. Or better yet, stuff her familiar into it. With a muffled curse she forced the monkey to let go, then plopped him down on her shoulder again. _And STAY there!_

_What did I do? Is it my fault if you’re too shy to take the initiative?_

_I’m not shy! And I’m not about to start…to start humping her in public! I don’t want her to think I’m that desperate!_

_You are though._

_Shut up._

“Anyway,” Zaerini said, “speaking of tension…when I feel tense there’s this thing I like to do that always relaxes me.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe I could show you sometime.” 

“Mmmggglllpp…” _I don’t believe this! The monkey was right about something?_

The half-elf gave Edwina a very strange look. “Are you sure you’re not ill? You’ve gone all red again. “What’s so odd about a bath, anyway? I’ve got these herbs Jaheira gave me, they make the water extra soothing and relax your muscles, I just thought you might like some.” 

Edwina tried to kick her brain into functioning again. “But…I…you…bath?” _Insufferable…you’ll pay for this, I swear it._

There was a distinct smirk to the monkey’s mental voice, and the annoyingly smug tone reminded Edwina of something, though she couldn’t think what. _What? A bath was all I meant, Boss. You’re far more likely to get to bathe with her as a woman, or at least see her in the bath, I just thought you should keep it in mind. Is it my fault if you thought I meant something else?_

_I hate you._

_No, you don’t, Boss. I’m only trying to help you out here. You still want her just as much as ever, female body or not, I’m only helping you get that straight and hopefully prod you into doing something about it. Oh…she’s got very nice hands, you know. Great touch. Mmmm…my fur is standing on edge here, can you feel it?_

Edwina sighed as the party headed into the Government District, where at least the streets were clean enough that she ran no immediate risk of getting her sparkly red boots dirty. She’d only just got them clean after that whole sewer affair. _I wonder how badly it hurts if you kill your familiar?_

Once Zaerini had come out of the trance induced by her latest Reading, it had been a little while before she managed to collect herself and gather her thoughts enough to try to make sense of it. She’d said that it hadn’t been as frightening as some of the others she’d done, but that it had been bad enough. What parts of it she had told Edwina about had certainly sounded extremely worrying. Aerie for one thing. That elf could be planning anything, but no matter what it was, it was going to be nasty. There had been the hands…restraining hands. And that voice, outwardly sweet, yet brimming with malice as the mask finally fell away. And then the rooftop…and the fight. Black knight. White queen. And the queen had fallen, but only just. Only just. Edwina shuddered, remembering just how much danger both she and her teacher had been in. _She wants revenge on him too, perhaps even more than on me or my Hellkitten. And I can’t even warn him…and he will be coming here, won’t he? Sooner or later, he will. What if she knows that? What if she sets some kind of trap? What if…no! Preposterous. He can handle her; I know he can. But what if…_

“Edwina?”

“Hmm? Ah…yes?”

“We’re almost there now,” Zaerini said, looking a little concerned. “Are you all right? You looked pretty distant there for a while. You’ll want to be alert when we meet this ‘Tolgerias’ fellow.” 

“I am perfectly well,” the wizard snapped, uncomfortably about having let her worry show. “There is no way that little upstart of an Amnian hedge wizard can possibly match my magic.” 

“Remember,” Jaheira said sharply, “we have not yet bought one of those licenses for casting magic in the streets of Athkatla. Doing so may bring down all the Cowled Wizards on our heads, and one will be quite enough for today I think.” 

“And we don’t want him to start a fight either,” Zaerini added in. “Not here and now anyway. Not when he hasn’t yet led us to whatever it is I apparently need to do. The Hermit, remember? The ‘picking the moon out of the sky’ thing, whatever that means? No, the Six of Coins is a nasty card, fully of greed and power misused, but we’d better not annoy him too much, at least not yet.”

“And you are certain this ‘Tolgerias’ is the one, my lady?” Anomen asked. The cleric’s armor was shining even more brightly than usual this morning, and Edwina was certain that she could smell something other than armor polish in the air as well. _Roses? What…_

“Yes, I’m sure. He did ask to meet with us a while back, and that fits what the Reading told me. And the Six of Coins wore a cowled robe too.” 

“Minsc will crush all Evil Coins, or at least the Evil Wizards having them! Though the Evil Girl Wizard doesn’t have to worry, not unless she does naughty things before the keen hamster eyes of Boo!” 

“You know, this reminds me of this story about my cousin Wilmer Jansen and his acquaintance with a certain lady wizard with a fondness for…” 

Edwina mentally tuned out the random stream of gibberish issuing forth from the gnome’s mouth, focusing on the stones of the street in front of her, the wind in her hair, the way the sun warmed her back. Anything, really, other than the infernal little pest that was Jan Jansen. She was getting better at it too, these days she could block out at least one word in five. _I have had plenty of practice after all._

So focused was she on not noticing where she was going, that Edwina also didn’t notice that she had trailed behind the rest of the group. Nor did she notice that she had taken a wrong turn somewhere, managing to get separated from them as they headed for the Government Building. Not, that is, until a sharp branch jabbed her in the knee, making her yelp out loud. She rapidly caught herself, hoping that Anomen hadn’t heard. Or Zaerini. Or any of the others. Then she wished that they had heard, as she realized that she was on her own. Well, on her own apart from the angry mob surrounding her, screaming, cursing and jeering at the woman tied to a stake in the middle of the pyre. A woman with ebony skin and hair white like snow, with a proud and beautiful face and pointed ears. She was a Drow, and it looked as if she was just about to be burnt alive. Not only that, she was a Drow that Edwina recognized. 

_What in the name of Demogorgon’s second monkey head…Viconia?_

Edwina stared at the bound Drow before her as she tried to make sense of what was going on. She’d only met Viconia briefly, during her travels of the Sword Coast, but Viconia wasn’t somebody you forgot easily. For one thing, she was highly sensual and attractive, something that had been noticeable from the start. _Though nothing compared to my Hellkitten of course. Still, I would have to be blind not to see it._ The Drow’s biting sense of humor was enjoyable as well, and she had certainly been helpful during that infiltration of the bandit camp. _I hadn’t expected to see her again, however. Didn’t she intend to settle down in some dull and tedious little speck of a town…Beregost, wasn’t it? So what is she doing here, about to be burnt at the stake?_

At that moment the bound cleric erupted in a torrent of violent curses, her eyes burning as she glared at the crowd. 

_But perhaps it isn’t all that surprising. She always had a nasty temper, and she doesn’t enjoy the benefits of the legendary Odesseiron sense of diplomacy after all. No doubt she managed to insult somebody important. I suppose I should offer my services._

_You, Boss?_

_Yes, Insufferable. I. Just watch me. I will have talked them into releasing her in less than two minutes. Then she will be very grateful, as she should be for getting rescued by the most brilliant mage in the world, and perhaps I can talk her into joining us, and get rid of that festering and pus-dripping sore on an ogre’s broad behind that is the Helmite. And I’m sure that my Hellkitten would also be impressed…_

_Whatever, Boss. Just try not to get killed, all right?_

_Impudent monkey, you will soon be eating those words as all these commoners are swayed by my powers of persuasion._

Edwina looked about her and noticed that the crowd around the pyre was composed of two different sorts of people. There was the normal mix of beggars, passing laborers or craftsmen, bored noblemen and little children taken to see a public execution by their doting parents in order to learn good morals and respect for life. But then there were the others. Several black-robed men and women, all of them with the same symbol on their chests. A red triangle crossed by black antlers. Edwina knew it well; there were certainly those in Thay who chose to worship the Maid of Misfortune, in the hopes of diverting her attention to somebody else. Beshabans. 

“Look ye all upon this foul drow that we have bound before ye!” one of the priests cried out. “A creature of evil and darkness, my brethren! A creature of foulness and deceit, bent only on our destruction! This creature has foolishly come amongst us, my brethren, thinking that we would be lax in our senses! Tell me what should be done with it!”

A chorus of shouts, boos, hisses and curses followed. The dominant sentiment of the crowd seemed to be ‘Burn the Drow!’ 

Viconia struggled vainly against the ropes that bound her, her face filled with a mixture of rage and desperation. “You _rivvin_ are mad!” she cried out. “I have done nothing to any of you! I seek only to make my way without molestation! Why have you done this?! Why?!”

“Done nothing?! You are a drow elf, are you not?!” replied a stout fellow with a red face who was holding a wide-eyed little girl by the hand. The child was sucking her thumb, goggling at the pyre and the woman on top of it. “That is as good a reason as any!”

“Ye shall be silent, evil one!” the priest cut in. “The power of the Maid of Misrule will be demonstrated here today!”

Viconia was snarling now, baring her teeth to the accompaniment of the cries for her blood. “No! _Nau!! Oloth plynn d'jal!!_ ”

“Spout your evil speech if ye must, drow, but prepare yourself for your journey into the next world! Beg for forgiveness, beg for salvation! And hope that the cleansing fire will save ye!!”

_Ha! Prepare to be dazzled by the impeccable diplomacy of Edwin Odesseiron!_

_Boss, I could handle it for you! I’m so cute and fluffy they’ll all go gooey in the head when they see me._

_Stay down, monkey_ , Edwina warned, nudging the tiny animal deeper into her cleavage. _There is after all the slight possibility of danger before I have the time to soothe them with my powers of elocution. I would not want my familiar to get hurt._

_Awww! That’s sweet!_

_No, it isn’t! I simply do not want to suffer the pain of finding a new one and…what are you doing?_

_Just giving you a friendly kiss?_

_Not there you don’t! Now don’t disturb my concentration._ Edwina took a deep breath, and then strode up towards the priest standing by the pyre, a look of haughty disdain on her face. 

-*-

From the top of the pyre, Viconia gave the strange female a puzzled look; curious despite the danger she was in. She could almost swear that she had seen this dark-haired female before somewhere, but she simply couldn’t place her. At least this one had the properly proud bearing of a true female, raised to rule, unlike most of the weakling surfacer ones Viconia had encountered so far. _Not quite as refined as a Drow, but with a certain amount of raw female talent. A bit unpolished of course, but that is only to be expected from a mere child._ The female did have a slightly awkward look about her, like a young girl only just starting to get used to her mature body, which was odd, since it did not match her appearance. And she had been standing motionless for several seconds now, her eyes slightly glazed. Suddenly, the odd female nodded silently to herself, squared her shoulders and walked up to the _rivvil_ priest by the pyre, tapping the man on the shoulder with an elegantly manicured nail. 

“You there, unwashed oaf! Yes, you! The wretched creature with the looks of a hagfish, and the personality to match!”

Viconia nodded to herself. She hadn’t ever seen the particular animal that the female had mentioned but was familiar with the pale fish of the Underdark. There was definitely something piscine about the priest. Perhaps it was the glassy look in his pale blue eyes, or the way he looked with his mouth open. “What…” the priest said, his face turning an angry red. “How dare you, wench!” 

The dark female tossed her head back arrogantly and made a dismissive gesture at the fellow. “Yes, yes, yes,” she said. “Spare me the tedium of listening to your confused grunts and simply obey me. Release the Drow. Then you have my permission to leave with your hide intact and go back to scratching your flea-infested groin or whatever it is that you monkeys do for regular entertainment, as you ponder the intricacies of Thayvian diplomacy.” 

Viconia frowned, intrigued despite her predicament. Yes, there was definitely something familiar about this female…something about the way she spoke…there was all the arrogance of a Matron Mother, but there was something about the phrasing that nagged at her mind. 

By now the priest’s mouth was really hanging open, making him look more like a fish than ever. “I will not disobey the will of the people, or the will of my Goddess! Just who do you think you are to order me about, you little slattern?”

The female took a deep breath, and when she next spoke her voice was dripping acid. “I, you demented and dimwitted little pile of troll snot, am a Red Wizard of Thay. You contradict me at your own peril. Release the Drow, I tell you, or face the wrath of…” Here she broke off for a moment and made a disgusted face. “The wrath of Edwina Odesseiron. You have three seconds before you become a pile of cinders, and wouldn’t that be bad luck?” 

_ODESSEIRON?_ Viconia had a feeling that her mouth gaped just as widely as that of the Hagfish Priest. Now that she thought about it, she could see the resemblance to the wizard she had met some months earlier, in the Baldur’s Gate area. And the phrasing was the same. _A sister, perhaps? Surely it had to be…_

“Seize her, my brethren!” the fanatic screamed, spittle flying from his mouth. Around him the crowd started to scatter in panic, as the other Beshabans reached for their weapons. “And may misfortune follow her always!” 

The wizard smiled then, a wide and rather unpleasant smile, and slipped a blue wand out of a hoop on her belt. As she swung it through the air it crackled and sparkled, and then a blindingly white bolt of lightning, as thick as a man’s leg, shot out of it, striking the priest in the chest. It threw him several yards through the air, and as he landed heavily on his back there was smoke coming out of his armor. He twitched a few times, and then was still. 

“To me, mage!” Viconia commanded. “Free me!” 

The wizard…Odesseiron…gave her an annoyed look, but she nevertheless climbed on top of the pyre and started tugging at the ropes. “Hurry!” Viconia hissed. “Do you have to be so sluggish? The most simple-minded surfacer slave of my home would be swifter, even without a whip encouraging him.”

“Really?” the other female retorted, sawing away at the ropes with a knife. “Then perhaps you want me to leave so you can send for them instead? It should only take a few months for them to get here, and I’m sure those Beshabans will be happy to keep you entertained in the meantime.”

Viconia glanced at the said Beshabans. They had gathered around their fallen leader, trying to revive him. The stinking black smoke that was still welling out of every opening in his armor, as well as from his eyes, mouth and nostrils, suggested that they hadn’t been entirely successful. Right now, they turned towards the two women on the pyre, pointing and shouting angrily. One of them raised his hands towards the heavens, drawing on the powers of the Goddess of Bad Luck.

_Iblith…_ ”Stop chattering and GET ME FREE!” Viconia screamed. 

“I’m trying! This stupid thing has gone as dull as a butter knife! (Obviously not Thayvian work, or it would never be this inferior.)” 

With a growing sense of dread Viconia noticed that one of the Beshaban priests was chanting another spell, and that two more were moving towards her and Odesseiron, brandishing nasty flails. Behind her the Red Wizard was uttering a long string of curses in her own language. Viconia didn’t know the words, but she could guess at the approximate meanings and had to more or less agree. “Hurry up, _wael_! We do not have much time!” 

“I said I’m trying, you simple-minded nag! It would be far easier if you stood still and didn’t squirm about so much, and…ow! Now look, you made me cut myself! My finger! It’s bleeding!” 

“In just a few more seconds it will be more than your finger that bleeds, _rivvil_! Just cut me loose!” 

The Beshabans were laughing openly now, and they were close enough that Viconia could almost smell them. _Shar…my delivery is in your hands. Or at least so I hope, for it would be terrible to think that it is in the hands of this fool girl._

“In a moment…I’ve almost got it now…”

There was a sudden metallic clatter. Viconia closed her eyes. “You dropped the knife, didn’t you?” she asked in a dull, emotionless voice. 

“It wasn’t my fault! The blood made it slippery.” 

“When we are both dead, I will make a special petition to my goddess for permission to watch you burn in whatever hell you wind up in, and then I will request an encore.” 

“Burn, you say? Now that gives me another one of my exceedingly brilliant ideas…here, drink this.” 

“Wizard, no…” Viconia suddenly found herself silenced as a cool glass bottle was pressed against her mouth, and she swallowed before she could help herself. It didn’t taste bad, but…there was suddenly a vast rumbling in her stomach, as if she had eaten something that didn’t agree with her. _Oh no…I’ll kill her…oh no…can’t…hold it…in…_

BRRRRRAAAARRRRRRRRRPPPP! 

On the wake of the magnificent burp an enormous jet of flame shot out of Viconia’s open mouth, striking the foremost Beshaban full in the face. He fell, screaming and clutching at himself, and the ones behind him shied back a little. Unfortunately, his burning clothes also set fire to the pyre, which was made up of dry wood. Very soon the air was getting hot enough that it was painful to breathe, and Viconia’s eyes were tearing from the smoke. _My Goddess…is this the end? Am I to end like this, burnt alive by the antics of that fool mage? And without getting even a chance to pay her back for…_

“Aha!” the wizard called out triumphantly. “There we are. Yes, I’m truly excellent at this…I am certain I could have become a magnificent rogue, had I been given that sort of training.” Finally, finally, Viconia felt the ropes around her slipping away. As quickly as she could she tore them off. The pyre wasn’t entirely ablaze yet, but it wouldn’t be long, and more and more Beshaban priests seemed to be turning up by the minute, from what she could see through the acrid smoke. Quickly she drew upon the power of Shar, and some of the foes froze in place, held immobile. Still, there were too many of them, and she was weakened by her captivity. 

“Wizard, if you have any sort of actually useful magic and not simply party tricks, I suggest you use it now!” 

“Ah. Well, there is the slight problem of the Cowled Wizards being so annoyingly picky and being on guard against unlicensed magic in the streets… (but wouldn’t it be enjoyable to pay them back for that…)” 

“What are you…” Viconia hastily cast another spell, and the skeleton of the fallen Beshaban priest tore free of the still smoking body, ripping out of it like a newborn bird hatching from an egg. It set upon its former comrades, savaging them with mindless obedience according to the Drow cleric’s commands. 

“When I say ‘jump’, we get down from here. Very, very quickly, unless you wish to become a Drow Crisp.” Before Viconia had the time to protest, she heard the wizard’s voice rise and fall in the language of magic, and then she felt the world slowing to a grind around her as her movements suddenly became lightning quick. Compared to her and Odesseiron, all others moved like slugs. The Thayvian cast another spell then, one that Viconia recognized all too well. 

“No! Are you insane? You will kill us both!” 

Then there was a loud whooshing sound as the fireball exploded around them, right in the middle of the pyre. “JUMP!” the wizard screamed, pulling Viconia along after her. Both women rushed down the pyre, the Haste spell carrying them along swiftly enough that the flames never more than singed their hair. Before Viconia knew it, they were already scurrying around a street corner, leaving the confused Beshabans behind. Clearly the enemy priests hadn’t been able to spot their swift escape in the middle of all the smoke. The fireball had set the pyre completely ablaze by now. 

“Just what did you think you were doing?” Viconia hissed, grasping the other woman by the shoulder and shaking her. Infuriatingly enough, the wizard didn’t even seem to be paying attention to her. She simply kept looking in the direction of the pyre, an anticipatory smile on her sultry face. 

“Any moment now…” she said. “Any moment…” 

There was a flash in the air on top of the pyre, and then Viconia could see several human shapes appear, more or less covered by cowled robes. Her sensitive ears could pick up a commanding voice shouting out that ‘You are unlicensed! This is an unsanctioned use of magical energy! You have been warned.’ After that, it didn’t take elven ears to be able to hear the surprised screams. The Beshabans rallied, mistaking the Cowled Wizards sudden appearance for an attack on them, and the Cowled Wizards, finding that they had teleported into the middle of not only a raging fire, but a group of armed people, came to the same conclusion. Before long spells were flying everywhere, the sky was blocked out by a rainbow haze and deafening echoes of powerful spells bounced around between the walls of the neighboring houses. “Just as I planned,” Edwina said, rubbing her hands gleefully. Then she pouted a little. “Pity that any spell scrolls they are carrying will likely be set afire as well…” There was another loud explosion from the pyre, and then a heavy rain of toads. “Yes…it certainly seems like it. A great pity indeed.” 

Eventually, silence settled once more. And then, the silence was broken by the sound of a foot impatiently tapping against the ground. Viconia turned around and saw that the foot belonged to a very familiar red-haired half-elf, whose golden eyes were currently blazing with annoyance as she glared at Edwina. She was flanked by a few other people, the only familiar face among them that annoying druid that Viconia remembered from before. There were two large and strong-looking males, and then a gnome with an annoying chirpy smile. 

“Ah, Hellkitten!” Edwina said with a pleased smile. “You’ll never guess what just happened.” 

“You know…” the half-elf said in a slightly distant voice. “I got really worried when I noticed you were missing. And silly me, I was worried that it would be difficult to find you. Bad mistake…I should have known that all I’d have to do was to follow the sound of explosions and try to avoid tripping over the charred corpses. Just what have you been up to?” She suddenly blinked. “Viconia? Is that you?”

“So it is, _abbil_ ”, Viconia said with a small smirk. “And I believe the two words ‘Thayvian diplomacy’ sum it all up.”


	59. Tolgerias

**Cards Reshuffled 59 – Tolgerias**

_When you’re an adventurer, you’ll get plenty of job offerings, and picking and choosing between them can sometimes be very tricky. After all, it’s not as if people are obliging enough to tell you what their real motives are if there’s a chance for some deceit._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Tolgerias the Cowled Wizard was feeding the ducks in the Government Park pond. He had been doing so for some days now, on a daily basis, certain that the contact would eventually turn up. How could she not, when her close friend and companion was held by his own organization? No, she would show, if only to satisfy her curiosity. If only she’d show a little sooner though. Tolgerias had never realized just how dull ducks were. They swam about in little circles. Sometimes they dipped their heads into the water, bottoms sticking up in the air. He kept hoping that one would drown, for variety’s sake, but so far it hadn’t happened. On the ground they were even worse. They waddled. How was it possible for any bird to look as stupid as a waddling duck? Not to mention the noises. Those insipid ‘quacks’ that grated in his ears like a fork scraping across a blackboard. 

Tolgerias gritted his teeth, throwing the stupid birds some more breadcrumbs. It wasn’t as if he had a choice. While the Cowled Wizards were immensely powerful, they didn’t have sole dominion over the city, and the business he wanted to conduct had to be kept secret. It wouldn’t do to let it become public knowledge that he meant to assassinate a local noble in order to gain personal power. Even if it was a noble of a declining family, that sort of thing would still cause…unpleasantness. No, secrecy had to be kept, and that meant using a cover for his meeting with this…Bhaalspawn. _Why couldn’t I have thought of a different one though? I could have pretended that I wanted to hire her as a…a secretary or something. Or that I wanted her to procure spell components for me. Or it could have been a ‘chance’ meeting in a tavern. Anything, really, that doesn’t involve ducks, unless they’re fried and served with onions._

“Quack?” Tolgerias closed his eyes and slowly counted to ten. Then he looked down. There was a fat white duck sitting on top of his left shoe. It was looking up at him with a very soulful expression, or possibly with a deep craving for more breadcrumbs. 

“Shoo!” the Cowled Wizard hissed. “Go away!” 

“Quack? Quack Quack!”

“I said go away!”

“Quack? Quaaaaaaaack!” Squinting happily, the duck proceeded to relieve itself on top of the wizard’s shoe. 

_That’s it. My cover be damned, it’s time for that duck to die! Horrid Wilting…yes…that should show the nasty little beasts…_ ”Incantus…pulca…imper…AAAAAGHHHH!” 

“Affront to Nature! You will leave that bird alone or suffer the consequences!” 

Tolgerias’ eyes were overflowing with tears of pain, and he had stuck his hand into his mouth, trying to nurse his wounded fingers back into life by sucking on them. That…that awful woman had just walked up to him and hit his hand with her quarterstaff, quite breaking his concentration! She deserved to be taught a lesson for that, and by Mystra he would…. Then Tolgerias screamed again as the by now very agitated duck bit his toes, and after that he was hopping on one leg, moaning with pain, as the affronted bird waddled away towards the water, quacking with rage. “You…you harpy! Just who do you…” Then he caught himself. The woman standing in front of him, a scowling brunette half-elf who would likely have seemed attractive if she didn’t look as if she was about to rip his throat out…the woman wasn’t alone. More importantly, he recognized both her and some of her companions from the description he’d been given. There was a gnome…a large tattooed fellow…a younger man in shining platemail. Then there were some more attractive females. One was a Drow of all things, he could see that beneath the hood of her cloak, another one a sultry dark-haired beauty in the most revealing dress he’d ever seen outside of a brothel, very inexpertly hidden by a cloak, and the third…yes, the third was the one. A red-haired half-elf, with unnerving eyes, like burning amber. The Bhaalspawn. “Forgive me,” he said to the redhead, instantly letting his voice settle into an urbane tone. “I was a little…surprised. You would be Zaerini of Candlekeep, I take it? I have a proposal for you…and as we talk, try to look inconspicuous. Here, have some breadcrumbs. You can help me…” He grimaced. “You can feed the ducks.” 

-*-

Zaerini wasn’t entirely certain what to make of this odd, duck hating Cowled Wizard. He was a tall, thin fellow, with a scraggly little brown beard, and a muscle in he left cheek twitched slightly every time he laid eyes on one of the ducks frolicking in the pond. He certainly didn’t seem very trustworthy to her and given a choice she’d rather not have anything to do with him. _But he might know something about Immy. I can’t afford not to check it out. And then there was that Reading I did. He’s the Six of Coins, I know it, and he’ll lead me to something important. Perhaps he’ll actually keep his word._ “So,” she said, after she’d heard the Cowled Wizard’s proposal. “There’s this nobleman called Valygar Corthala who has killed two Cowled Wizards, and you can’t find him yourselves, you have no idea where he is. And you want me to do it for you, and bring him to you, dead or alive?”

“That is the task, yes. Do not fear.” Tolgerias smiled. “Do not fear. I will reward you well, and will also look into the matter of your missing friend…” 

Rini hesitated for a moment. _That’s what the Shadow Thieves said too. Not that I know if I can trust them. Or him. But I have to find Immy, and if he can help me do it more quickly…_ She looked down on her sword, resting in its scabbard at her left hip. A dark blade, an assassin’s blade. _I remember all those assassins coming after me, from Candlekeep and onward. Isn’t this ironic…maybe next I’ll be getting myself fitted for a spiky armor. And I’d do it too. For Immy’s sake, I’d do almost anything._ “All right,” she said. “I’ll see what I can do.” She deliberately let some of her frustrated anger shine through, and she could feel the heat of it in her blood. It was getting easier…easier…ever since Irenicus. She felt a momentary satisfaction as she saw Tolgerias’ eyes widen with surprise, and possibly with fear. Out of the corner of her eye she also noticed Edwina giving her a very startled look. “But you had better keep your part of the bargain, got it?” 

Tolgerias cleared his throat a little, and then looked annoyed. “Perfectly,” he said. “Now be off with you…we cannot be seen talking for too long.” 

“Fine,” Zaerini said, and turned to leave. As she did, a mischievous grin suddenly crossed her face, and she started singing a happy, cheerful little song that instantly stuck in the mind. _Happy duck…happy duck…play with bubbles, quack, quack, quack!_ The agonized groan coming from the Cowled Wizard made her feel much better. “Come on,” she told her friends. “We’d better get away from here, I think…before more of those Beshabans turn up.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes, choosing the streets away from the crowds in order to avoid unwanted attention. “My lady…” Anomen eventually said. He sounded deeply concerned, and there was a worried frown on his face. “I must confess I have some misgivings about this. If this man is a criminal, he assuredly deserves to be brought to justice, but the Cowled Wizards act for reasons of their own.” 

“I agree,” Jaheira said, nodding. She didn’t sound chiding this time though, nor actively disapproving. Simply skeptical, and…worried? “Child, I know you will do as you will…I simply ask you to think carefully before you act on this, and to keep your balance.” 

_I’ll try. But it’s not that easy. It would be far easier if I could simply convince myself that this Valygar is a bad person…but that’s not how it works. That’s the way it is in stories, where there are heroes and villains, and everything is simple. But it’s not that way in real life. And I would be lying to myself if I pretended that it was. In real life you simply don’t know._ “I’ll try. I promise I’ll try to think this through properly.” 

“That is all I ask for, child.” 

Viconia simply shrugged. “I fail to see what the problem is. If it benefits you to kill that male, then do so. But also, beware of treachery, that mage is likely to turn on you as soon as you have done as he asks. You must be strong enough that he dares not.” 

“Boo will help little Rini!” Minsc proudly stated, holding his hamster up. “Boo knows Evil when he sees it, and he will sniff this Evil Killer out wherever he hides, and then attach the Teeth of Justice firmly to his backside!” Boo blew his cheeks up and seemed to be rolling his eyes. “See? He is tracking already!”

Rini couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Thanks, Minsc,” she said, smiling at the ranger. “I know I can trust you and Boo.” 

“You know,” Jan said, eyeing the hamster greedily, “that reminds me of my uncle, Larz Jansen, who fancied becoming an assassin.” 

Edwina sighed loudly. “Not again… (And this is one tale I’d really rather not be exposed to.)” 

“No, no Red! I haven’t told it yet, are you getting a little forgetful perhaps? As I said, Uncle Larz wanted to be an assassin. Trained very hard, he did. Why, he could hit a turnip across the street, in the middle of the night! And he could slice through one with one swoop of his sword or smash it to pulp with his bare hands!” 

Edwina frowned. “So, what was the problem?”

“Oh, nothing. Not if he’d stuck to assassinating turnips. Unfortunately, his first target was this very irritable griffin, and Uncle Larz had never bothered to learn to sneak, since turnips aren’t very big in the ear department.”

“Yes, yes,” Edwina snapped, brushing her hair out of her eyes with an impatient gesture. “He got eaten by the griffin and failed the assignment, correct?”

“Not quite…the griffin did eat him, but it also ate the poison supply he was carrying, making his employer very happy, since he got the job done and didn’t even have to pay. Poor Uncle Larz…he’s the one who taught me the crossbow, you know. Anyway, it goes to show that in contract killing it’s very important to be able to tell a turnip from a griffin. It’s the most basic lesson, really.” 

Oddly enough, the corners of the wizard’s mouth were actually twitching a little. “I…must remember to pass that one on if I get the chance,” she said. “Such a gem of advice deserves to be spread; I think.” 

“Why thank you, Red! Anyway, if this Valygar person is a turnip, then all is well, but if he’s a griffin, then we should at least try to give him a belly ache.” 

“I’ll hope for the turnip option,” Rini said, grinning at the gnome. Her dark mood was already easing up a little. It was hard to be really gloomy in Jan’s presence, he tended to deflate that sort of thing in seconds. Then she thought of something. “Edwina, what do you think of all this? You haven’t said.” 

The wizard thought about this for a few moments. “I think you should be very wary around the Cowled Wizards,” she said, sounding a little distant. “But it could certainly be profitable. And you did manage to put him in his place, I think, very neatly so. (Yes…she certainly did. Almost like…)” Once again there was that odd look in her eyes, as if she was seeing something else. 

“Edwina? Is something wrong?” 

“No,” the wizard said, shaking her head. “I was simply…reminded of somebody else for a moment.”

Zaerini waited for an explanation, but none came, and the wizard still had that pensive look in her eyes. _Something going on there…apart from the gender thing, I think. And I have a feeling I’d better find out what it is before it explodes in my face._

“I don’t know about the rest of you,” Zaerini said, “but I think it would be an excellent idea for us to get out of this place for now.” She nervously looked about the large Government Square, all neat hedges and sparkling fountains, with elegant mansions partially hidden in the cool shade beneath the tall trees. “I know those Beshabans are all dead, and the Cowled Wizards who were on the scene, but you never know…there were other witnesses, and somebody might decide to sell us out.” She gave Viconia a quick smile. “Though I’m happy that things turned out as they did…I’d have helped myself if I’d been there.” As she turned to Edwina, her smile became even warmer. “But it seems that wasn’t necessary…I should have known you’d be able to handle yourself…Dread Wizard.” 

Edwina preened proudly, puffing herself up so much it seemed she was about to burst. “Naturally, Hellkitten!” she said, toying with her dark hair in what Rini had to admit was a very alluring manner. “I can handle anything the world throws at me, and with ease.” 

“Most certainly, Odesseiron,” Viconia murmured, a sly glint in her eyes. Her teeth glinted like pearls against her dark skin as she smirked. “You have, after all, advanced into being female, a vast improvement if you ask me. Doesn’t it feel superb to no longer be a member of the weaker sex?” 

“What…” Edwina said, looking equal shares angry and perplexed. “How did you…”

“Oh, you are fairly easily recognizable…I know how to look for patterns of movement, intonation and such, and not only superficial traits.” Again, a small smirk. “Besides, you gave your name before…Edwina. Though I must say you have the makings of a fine female. You must tell me all about this magnificent accomplishment later.” 

“I think we had better discuss this elsewhere,” Jaheira interjected. “As our Fearless Leader said, we could attract unwanted attention here. Let us go, and then we can make further plans.” 

“Right,” Rini agreed. “Let’s go back to the Coronet, and then decide where we go from there.” As they headed off through the streets, she found herself walking next to Viconia and watched the Drow carefully. The priestess looked much as she remembered her, beautiful and alluring, in a commanding way, her long white hair providing a dramatic contrast to her dark skin as the silky strands peeked out under her hood. “So…” she said after a few minutes. “What brings you to Athkatla? I thought you meant to settle down in the Beregost area? And how did you wind up on top of that pyre, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I had my reasons for leaving, _abbil_ ,”, Viconia said, and for a moment some dark emotion glinted in her eyes. Anger…but more than that. “The climate in Beregost turned out to be less than suitable for skin of my color.”

“Oh…I’m really sorry to hear that.” 

“And as for this sty of a city…phaugh! I had done nothing to deserve such treatment, I sought only to be left alone and had harmed nobody here. But a man happened to catch sight of my face beneath my hood, and that was that.”

“The Drow are known for their evil ways,” Anomen stated. Then he flushed lightly. “Though I had not known they could be so striking.”

Viconia gave him a considering look for a moment, then turned to Zaerini. “The male isn’t entirely displeasing to my eyes, if blunt in manners…I commend you on your taste, _abbil_.” 

“My taste?”

“Why, yes! Every female should start her collection early, so that she will have ample time to gather a suitable number of strong males. But remember to evaluate his prowess carefully before granting him any privileges, or you may be disappointed.” 

Zaerini was afraid to look at Anomen’s face. “Ah…Anomen is not…”

“That’s right!” Edwina spat, as she hastily inserted herself between the half-elf and the Drow, grasping Rini’s arm tightly. “He isn’t! (And if he tries to get any ‘privileges’ I will make certain to acquaint him with my prowess at spellcasting…close and personal.)” 

“What is it to you, lady mage?” Anomen haughtily stated, taking Rini’s other arm and squashing it against him. “Your agitation grows steadily…methinks you need the calming presence of a husband to soothe your ire. Granted, we will likely have to pay him an enormous dowry first.” 

As she found herself more or less dragged through the streets of Athkatla by the wizard and the cleric, both of them bickering vehemently, Rini turned her head to see Viconia wink at her. “Never mind, _abbil_ ,” the Sharran priestess laughed. “You can always run off with me, if you want somebody with sense…”

-*-

“The sun in Murann will tan an even bun!” Aerie said the words clearly, in the sweetest voice she could muster, and then gave lord Logum Eckel a look of radiant pride. 

The nobleman jumped off the chaise lounge where he’d been sitting, grasped her by the shoulders and shook her. “Say it, woman! Say it again! Properly!”

_I would greatly enjoy smearing your foul entrails all over the walls, using them to paint pretty pictures for my Mistress._ “The sun in Murann will tan an even bun…my lord…” Aerie said again, smiling bashfully. 

“Yes!” Lord Logum exclaimed. “YES! She’s got it! By Waukeen, I think she’s got it!” He clasped the Avariel’s hands in his, spinning her about. “I am a genius! I have taken this waif, this unformed lump of clay, and transformed her into a grand lady!” 

_One Flesh to Stone spell…that’s all it would take to turn you into a ‘lump of clay’ you pompous idiot._ “Oh, my lord…” Aerie said, fluttering her eyelashes with practiced ease as she looked up at the nobleman’s flushed and excited face, counting the pores on his nose in order to give herself the perfect look of concentrated fascination. “…I could never have done it without you. You…you have shown me that life on the ground needn’t be so terrible after all…” _…as long as there is suffering to spread, misery to cause, and hapless fools to torment…_ “…that I can find something else to fill my life…” _…the service of my Mistress Loviatar, blessed be her name._ “…and that I am stronger than most people would think.” _Oh yes…that much is true._ “And all because of you…my dear, dear friend.” She made a delicate blush spread across her cheeks. “And now…now I wish to ask you…if you would…”

“Oh yes!” Lord Logum said, sweating profusely. “Of course, I will be happy to continue your education, dear girl. It will be my pleasure to make a woman out of you!” 

“Oh!” Aerie exclaimed, intensifying the blush. “I…I didn’t mean…” _Never give them what they expect_ , she thought, inwardly smirking at the confused look on the nobleman’s arrogant face. “Though maybe I might…someday…that is, I only meant to ask you if you would introduce me properly to Amnian High Society. I…feel I am ready for it…and I do want to make you proud of me.” 

“Ah. Yes…yes of course. I need to prove my point after all and demonstrate my keen and scientific mind’s accomplishment to those who doubted me. Very well. We will start out slowly…I’ll introduce you to the Jysstevs. They don’t live far from here, and the lady Jysstev is always fond of meeting new people. If all goes well, we will scale up from there.” 

“Thank you, my lord,” Aerie said, delicately tucking a few strands of golden hair behind her ear. “You have no idea how grateful I am to you.” 

-*-

In another place entirely, a red-haired woman with a feathered headdress walked across a floor that might have been marble but was not. She was tall, taller than most men, but in this place, she was dwarfed by the enormous thing that hung in the air before her, glowing with a poisonous green light that made her hair look almost black. The woman grasped her spear tightly after adjusting a couple of straps on her armor. “Ah, my Lord,” she said, an ironic smile playing on her lips. “How good it is to bask in your presence once more.” 

SPARE ME YOUR PLEASANTRIES, WOMAN, an enormous voice boomed out of the green light. I DO NOT KNOW WHY YOU ARE HERE, BUT IT CANNOT BE TO PAY YOUR RESPECTS. DO YOU THINK I AM UNAWARE OF WHAT YOU HAVE DONE? OF WHAT YOU ARE PLANNING? 

“Of course not, my Lord,” the woman smirked. “You could not help but notice, could you? Pity you didn’t guess it earlier…before your sad demise, that is. But then, I always seemed so loyal and devoted, didn’t I? So utterly trustworthy?”

NONSENSE. YOU SEEMED LIKE WHAT YOU ARE, A BACKSTABBING WITCH, AS TRUSTWORTHY AS A MIRAGE. A PERFECT PRIESTESS OF MINE, IN OTHER WORDS. YOU LOT ARE ALL LIKE THAT. OR WERE. 

“Then why did you trust me, foolish god?” 

I NEEDED SOMEBODY TO ARRANGE THE PRACTICAL SIDE OF MY PLAN. YOU WERE THE ONE BEST SUITED FOR THE TASK. 

“Of course I was!” the woman screeched, her voice grating like a rusty nail scraping across a blackboard. “I was your high priestess – but I will soon be far more!” Her voice lowered to a sibilant hiss. “How do you enjoy your prison, my ‘Lord’? A pretty little place for a dead god’s spirit to spend eternity…or such time as remains until I can find all the Bhaalspawn. And then I will be the Lady of Murder – and you will be less than dust! Do you hear that? DOOM AWAITS THEE!”

There were a few moments of silence. 

PERHAPS OBLIVION WOULDN’T BE SO BAD – AT LEAST I WOULD NEVER HAVE TO HEAR YOUR ANNOYING VOICE AGAIN. YOU’RE GIVING ME A TERRIBLE HEADACHE, AND I DON’T EVEN HAVE AN ACTUAL HEAD. PERHAPS YOU SHOULD BECOME GODDESS OF IRRITANCY INSTEAD. 

“How dare you speak to me that way? Take that back or YOU SHALL SUFFER!”

HOW, EXACTLY? I’M ALREADY DEAD, REMEMBER? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO, KILL ME? UNTIL ALL MY CHILDREN ARE YOURS, YOU CANNOT TAKE THE THRONE, YOU KNOW THAT. AND YOU MAY JUST BE SURPRISED BY THEIR RESOURCEFULNESS. 

The woman in the feathered headdress frowned, snarling angrily. “What are you saying? You aren’t planning anything, are you?” 

MY DEAR LITTLE PRIESTESS – WOULD YOU HONESTLY EXPECT ME TO TELL YOU IF I WERE? AMUSE YOURSELF WITH YOUR LITTLE GAMES AS YOU WILL. PLAY WITH YOUR FOLLOWERS, AND YOUR ARMIES. IN THE END, YOU WILL FALL. 

The red-haired woman spat out a curse and turned around to stalk out of the chamber. As she walked away, the mocking voice of the dead god followed her. 

OH, AND ANOTHER THING, MY PRIESTESS…THAT OUTFIT LOOKS QUITE RIDICULOUS.


	60. Nighttime Conversations

**Cards Reshuffled 60 – Nighttime Conversations**

_In the night, things tend to look different. Sometimes, things look clearer, easier to understand. Suddenly you feel that you have figured it all out, everything that’s ever troubled you. Sometimes, you feel as if the world is falling to pieces around you, and that nobody even notices. And then there are those who hunt the night, and for them it is different still._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

A large bat flitted across the face of the moon, obscuring it for a few seconds. Dekaras lowered his eyes from the window, smiling faintly to himself. He wouldn’t have seen the bat if he hadn’t been looking for it, of course, but it had been following him for quite some time now. _Perfect._ He dared another brief glance out the window. And yes…there was that fellow, still waiting for him down on the street. The man was quite well hidden, in fact. However, Dekaras knew that the other man had been trailing him all night, just like the bat, and he had spotted him concealing himself. _So, they are finally taking an interest in me_ , he thought. _Good thing. I almost thought I’d have to pull some ridiculous stunt like blowing up half the Promenade. And then again, that already happened, so they would probably be blasé about it._

The assassin had spent some time investigating the Cowled Wizards, but so far without any substantial leads about where they might incarcerate their unfortunate prisoners. Their organization was both big and secretive, and it was difficult to learn just who might hold the information he needed. Furthermore, he needed to be discreet in his investigations, or he might well bring the entire organization down on his head, something that he really did not need. Fighting droves of powerful mages was not a tactic that was likely to lead him any closer to Imoen. However, there was another angle he meant to exploit as much as possible. 

Bodhi. Not only had that mysterious vampire been involved with the original abduction of Imoen and the others and might be involved with the recent development. But she was also a power to be reckoned with, and so she might provide him with a way to get closer to the Cowled Wizards, even if she had nothing directly to do with them. Dekaras had learnt enough to realize that this vampire-run Assassin’s Guild was a very real threat to the previously undisputed rule of the Shadow Thieves over Athkatla’s underworld. The guild war was raging all over the city, with casualties on both sides, and the vampires seemed the more powerful group. Shadow Thieves were disappearing daily. Some of them were killed, others defected to join their rivals or were killed by their superiors for attempted treachery. Day by day, little by little, the vampires were bleeding the Shadow Thieves dry. 

_And there were apparently Shadow Thieves fighting this mysterious masked Archmage, the one who was arrested along with Imoen. Shadow Thieves fighting him…Shadow Thieves fighting the vampires. It could be a coincidence, but I think not. Not when it’s coupled with what that other vampire I encountered in Beregost said about Bodhi’s companion. No, finding one should help me find the other, and eventually Imoen._ The assassin’s sharp face took on a grim expression as he thought about the pink-haired girl. _Hopefully before the poor girl suffers any permanent damage._

Of course, he couldn’t simply go knock on the vampires’ door in the fond hope that they would obligingly share their secrets with him. No, it would be necessary to make them come to him instead, and he thought he knew just the way. Efficient killers the vampires might be, but for them to really be able to get around the Shadow Thieves with ease they needed operatives who could move about in daylight. It made sense that they would recruit thieves for that. 

So, he had followed the simplest and most logical course and started robbing houses, in order to make his presence known. It wasn’t exactly his normal line of work of course, but the basic principles were the same. Get in quietly and without a fuss, do your job, get out unnoticed. It wasn’t as if he could do assassination work here in Athkatla without great difficulty, lacking his normal contacts to provide him with possible employers, and he certainly couldn’t go to the Shadow Thieves for assignments. Robberies were far better suited for independent work and would increase his funds nicely. Not only that, by making them as spectacular as possible he knew that he would eventually draw the attention of the vampires. Possibly the Shadow Thieves too…that was the risk. Neither guild would like infringement on their territory by an independent agent. _But life is filled with risks after all_ , Dekaras thought, critically studying a pearl necklace before slipping it into the bag he carried. The house he was currently paying a visit to belonged to an Athkatlan merchant, and a wealthy one at that. _And this risk I believe is a necessary one to take._

It was time to leave. Quiet as a shadow the assassin slipped through the dark bedroom, a cautious eye on the young woman sleeping in the bed. She sighed briefly in her sleep, turning over so her dark hair fanned out over the pillow. The daughter of the house, and her jewelry box had been extensively trapped. And then there had been the guards, not to mention the tame panther. All of them avoided, in and out neatly and quietly, just as it should be. He had thought it would be enough to pique the interest of those he sought. And now…now there was the man down on the street, waiting for him, as well as the bat in the air. 

There were guards still patrolling the hallways of the large estate but bypassing them presented no particular difficulty. Dekaras took a few long and deep breaths before going out by the side entrance he had used to get into the house. _Focus. Calm. Control._ He felt the world narrowing, shifting into sharp focus, as it always did when he concentrated deeply on an assignment. And this was the real assignment, not the robbery. He checked the weapons he had with him, including a few special hidden ones in case the vampires decided to get frisky. _Always prepare well for a possible battle…and take excellent care of your equipment._ As he left the house he made himself move with a little less than his normal skill, so the man on the other side of the street would still be able to see him. The fellow was good, but not good enough not to need some help. 

Dekaras smiled inwardly as he sensed the other man coming up behind him. Oh, the other one was silent, and moved quietly, but he was also tense, and the scent of his tension was almost palpable. He drew things out, waiting until the other man was almost upon him, waiting for the whistling sound of a moving blade, or the tiny noise of a drawn bowstring. But no such noises came, and once the following man got closer Dekaras spun around, planting himself firmly in his wake. “Good evening to you,” he said, keeping his voice low and perfectly polite, while his hands were ready to move immediately should the other one attack. “Is there anything I can do for you?” Politeness, that was important. It tended to seriously frighten people under this sort of special circumstances. The fact that they were not expecting it made it even worse. It made them uneasy, and more likely to make mistakes that could be taken advantage of. 

The other man wasn’t quite what Dekaras had been expecting. _A Kara-Turan? Here? Well, I suppose I’m a long way from home myself._ He was shorter than Dekaras was, and younger too. Old enough to have a mustache though…probably somewhat older than Edwin. And he certainly moved in the manner of a skilled rogue, who in time might well become very skilled. Dark brown leather armor and cloak hid much of him, but there was the sparkle of an alert pair of slanted eyes within the confines of his hood. “And a good evening to you too, honored colleague,” he said in slightly accented Common. “It is to Yoshimo’s great shame that he must disturb you on a beautiful night such as this, but there is need for a word with you.” 

"Is there now?" Dekaras asked, raising an eyebrow. "And just what kind of word might this be…Yoshimo?" 

The Kara-Turan smiled, a friendly and non-committal smile, with just a trace of foolishness. _Camouflage_ , Dekaras thought, inwardly amused. _I'm sure more than one person has been misled into underestimating him._

"Ah, I am afraid I am not the one to tell you of this, at least not in detail. I am but here to tell you of a potential opportunity for profit. You have been watched, my friend, and there are those interested in your potential. My employer wishes to speak with you about that, and the possibility of mutual interests." Was there a very faint twinge to his voice as he mentioned 'my employer'? 

"I see," Dekaras drawled. "And in the hypothetical situation that I had no interest in meeting your employer?" 

Yoshimo's face might as well have been cut in stone. "Then, it is my sorrow to say that my employer would be very much upset. You would not wish that, and I know of which I speak." 

_Hmm…He doesn't seem entirely happy about that. Interesting._ "Very well," Dekaras said, giving the other rogue a brief nod. "The night is still young - I suppose I might have a few moments to spare for your employer's suggestion. Where does he wish to meet with me?" _That should hopefully convince him that I have no idea about who his 'employer' might be._

"Her," Yoshimo said in a toneless voice. "And she awaits you in the Graveyard District. Follow me, please, and I will lead you there." 

"I should think I'm capable of finding the local cemetery on my own, darkness or not." 

"I am sure of it. But not, I fear, the meeting place itself. Now, come with me, and you will soon be before her." Having paused only long enough to make certain that the assassin was following him, he walked off. Dekaras thought he heard him mutter something under his breath though, that sounded suspiciously like 'And may your ancestors protect you.' 

_Now that is what I call irony_ , Dekaras thought to himself. _I'd really rather not drag my ancestors into this, thank you very much._

The Graveyard District was a city unto itself, a sprawling necropolis of tombs and crypts, vast and confusing. As he followed Yoshimo along a gravel path, Dekaras couldn't help but notice that there also seemed to be a large number of bats about. He suspected that the one he had seen before was probably among them. Finally, they reached a large crypt, and here Yoshimo drew to a halt. The Kara-Turan hadn't said anything at all during the entire walk, but now he spoke, and his voice was deadly serious. "This is the main entrance," he said. "I will show you the way inside, but first a word of caution. In this place, a single misstep can be deadly. Be careful what you say or do, or you may regret it." For a moment he seemed about to say something more, but then fell silent, a small grimace twisting his mouth. "I can say no more. You will have to see for yourself."

"That," Dekaras said, "suits me very well." As he descended the narrow staircase that led underground from the tomb, he suddenly felt a disturbing sensation on the edge of his mind. It was a little bit like having an itch and being unable to scratch it. It also resembled the nagging feeling you get when you know you have forgotten something but can't quite remember what. But more than anything else, it was the feeling of being watched, without knowing who was doing the watching. 

_Scrying…it has to be._

He had felt unseen eyes searching for him on several occasions recently, and it was growing more frequent, and more difficult to avoid. True, he had always been good at avoiding detection, and blanking his presence to divination spells. It wasn't magic, it was simply a trick of the mind. But there was a limit to how much he could do. If it had only been the one person searching for him it shouldn't have been a problem, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there were several, though he couldn't say exactly how many. _I'm a popular person, it seems. Lucky me._

One of the unseen watchers was a familiar presence, one that he had felt before. Shutting her out tore at his heart like poisoned daggers, but he did not have a choice. Allowing himself to be known would risk revealing himself to the others as well, and that could be extremely dangerous. _Beloved…I am sorry. I know you must worry by now…but I dare not let you close. Not when these others are about and searching for me._ Hopefully she would understand that. 

There were others…malevolent ones, he was uncertain how many. The distance was hard to judge, but there were more than one. So far, he was keeping them out, but for how long? The tiredness was creeping in, slowly but certainly, and one slip at the wrong moment could well prove fatal. 

And then there was a final presence, one that was simply…odd. It didn't feel like a regular scrying at all, but somehow more…personal? The sensation had so far been very brief and fleeting, and hard to describe, but it had disturbed him immensely. It was far too close for comfort, like a strange hand brushing against his soul, examining it like a pretty bauble. He had blocked that out too, but it had been extremely disturbing, an outrageous intrusion. 

_Yet there is nothing I can do about it now. I have to focus on what is ahead…I dare not be other than in perfect control when I face this 'Bodhi'. I have to, for Imoen's sake. And then, once I know more, for Edwin's. I will not betray their trust._

And still…despite his best efforts not to think about it, one nagging thought of his own kept floating up to the surface of his thoughts. _I cannot block them out forever. And when my guard drops, they will come._

-*- 

She was having trouble sleeping. Zaerini tossed and turned, thinking over the events of the past day, hoping she had made the right decisions. _And that I will go on doing so. And not get any of my friends killed._ Once they had returned to the Copper Coronet after Viconia’s rescue they had discussed their options. Eventually Jaheira had suggested getting out of the city for a few days. Apparently, there was trouble brewing in the city of Trademeet, some days to the east of Athkatla, where the local druids seemed to have gone insane, randomly attacking the citizens. There was a call out for adventurers, with the promise of a decent reward for helping. Rini thought it seemed a good option to take. Not only would it get them out from under the noses of the Cowled Wizards for a little while, but if things went well, they would come a good deal closer to raising the reward needed for Imoen’s rescue. 

Viconia had opted out of going along, however. She gave no specific reason, other than at the moment she’d rather not leave the city, and she was very firm about it. Rini felt bad about leaving her behind, especially after her recent capture, but Viconia insisted that she could take care of herself and got quite indignant about it. She did say that she would try to look the group up later, once they got back, and that was all she would say, except that she could probably be reached in the Graveyard District. _Should I have badgered her more? Should I have been more persistent? Am I letting her down?_ Groaning with angry frustration, the half-elf turned over once more. _I’m only one person. I’m a bastard child of a god, not a god myself. I don’t know everything. I can’t do everything._ She reached her fingers into one of her pockets, gently touching the leaf that lay hidden there. She couldn’t quite remember where she had found it, only that it was important somehow. Strangely enough it was still fresh, as if it had just been picked, and touching it calmed her a little for some reason. _I can only try my best, I know that. I just wish it felt as if it were enough._

Sleep wasn’t coming. It simply wasn’t coming; she was too worried still. Sighing, she sat up, looking about the campsite. They were deep into the forest and should reach the Keep De’Arnise the next day. It would be good to see Nalia again, she thought. _And…the others. Even Abduh._ But in the meantime, she needed to do something in order to relax. Silently, she padded over to where Minsc was sitting near the fire, keeping guard. 

“Hi there,” she told the large berserker, sitting down next to him with a weary smile. “Everything calm?”

Minsc’s eyes lit up, and his face split in his normal cheerful smile. “Minsc and Boo are fine, little Rini! Everything is snug and calm as a nesting hamster!” Then he frowned. “Why isn’t little Rini resting? Boo says it’s very important for a Witch to get her proper sleep, and Minsc agrees.” 

“I know…I just can’t sleep, that’s all. I…have a lot on my mind these days, I guess.” 

Minsc gave her a sympathetic pat on the arm. “Minsc is sorry…Boo says that Minsc’s mind is nice and clean, but Minsc knows that everybody isn’t as lucky as Minsc is in this. What can Minsc and Boo do to help? Is there Evil that needs to feel the sting of hamster teeth and Minsc’s mighty and clever sword?”

“You know…” Lilarcor muttered out of its scabbard. “…a long time ago I was a Moonblade. Yeah…that’s right…” 

“Thanks, Minsc,” Zaerini said, leaning gratefully against the ranger as he put his enormous arm about her shoulders, giving her a hug. “It’s not that sort of thing. It’s just…there’s so much to deal with right now. Immy still missing…and this whole mess with Edwina…and Anomen…and Viconia. And everybody wants me to do things, and fix things, and it feels as if wherever I turn next, I’ll fail somehow, or let somebody down. And I try to, I really try to be there for everybody, but there’s only so much I can do.” She could feel her eyes slowly filling with tears and blinked them away angrily. “I’m going to mess up, I know it. I’m going to let you all down. And that makes me feel like simply lying down and giving up, but I can’t do that, because that _would_ let everybody down, and I would hate myself for it.” 

She was sobbing quietly now against Minsc’s chest, and he was rocking her gently, one large hand rubbing her back. It felt good. Warm and nice. 

“Minsc knows that his Witch will do well,” he said. “Boo says that nobody could do better, and that she shouldn’t try to be more than a flesh-and-blood person, or she’ll be very unhappy. Deciding what to do is very hard, that’s why Minsc is so lucky to have Boo to do it for him. But Boo says that even he makes mistakes sometimes, and he is a giant miniature space hamster. Don’t be sad! If little Rini likes, Minsc will make some nice and hot Rashemani tea to make her feel all better.”

“It’s all right,” the half-elf said, smiling a little as she wiped at her eyes. “I feel better now…I promise I’ll try not to fret so much. Boo is right, I’m only mortal. I’ll just sit here for a while, and then I think I’ll be able to sleep again.” 

She leaned against Minsc, taking comfort in the warmth radiating from his large body and his arm around her shoulders, and closed her eyes. _I’ll just rest for a while…just a little while…_ And finally, sleep came. 

-*-

Dekaras had never seen so many vampires gathered in one place, and he had to admit to himself that it was a rather unnerving experience. Having followed Yoshimo down some dark tunnels, he now found himself inside what could best be described as a cross between a palace, a tomb and a sort of private club. Mulhorandi statues figured heavily in the decorating scheme, as did paintings of bloody executions, murders and various undead creatures. 

There was a large gathering hall, with an enormous black marble table, with white veins in it that were reminiscent of a spider web. He could imagine all too well what kind of meals might be enjoyed there. Fortunately, it was empty at the moment. 

There were several smaller rooms, with corridors leading off in different directions. He had caught glimpses of a few of them, and there seemed to be an emphasis on red velvet pillows and stone sarcophagi. Bedrooms perhaps, or what passed for bedrooms among vampires. 

Then there was the…bathroom. It held a large marble tub, filled to the brim with what seemed to be fresh blood. _They must use some sort of spell to keep it from coagulating_ , Dekaras distantly thought as he tried to ignore the penetrating smell coming from the tub. A female vampire was currently sitting in it, her long brown hair spreading out in the warm liquid, and her skin glowed like a white pearl against the dark blood. As he passed her, she bared her teeth in what might have been a smile, or a snarl. Possibly both. “Want to join in?” she purred. “I’m feeling lonely…” 

_Hungry, more like it. And winding up as a bathtub snack really isn’t among my plans for the future._ “Thank you, but no,” Dekaras said, inclining his head towards the vampire. “I’m trying to cut down on the bloodbaths – for health reasons, you see.” 

“And we are expected elsewhere, Dell,” Yoshimo said, scowling at the vampire. “ _She_ is expecting him.” 

“Oh…” the vampire pouted. “What a shame. Maybe later, then.” 

They descended yet another staircase, and the air grew heavier, even more oppressive than before, and with an even stronger hint of that metallic, thick smell. _Blood. They must really wallow in it…I wonder where they get it all. No, on second thought I can probably guess that._ Finally Yoshimo stopped before a large stone door, rather ostentatiously decorated with bats and skulls. “This is the place,” he said in a toneless voice. “Remember, she is…temperamental.” 

“I believe I can cope with that.” _I’ve had a bit of practice, after all._

“As you say, honored colleague.” Yoshimo rapped on the door, and it swung open, slowly and without making any noise. “Mistress Bodhi,” the Kara-Turan thief said. “Your guest is here.” 

There were a few seconds pause. “Excellent…” a female voice spoke from within the room. It might have sounded seductive under other circumstances, but there was a cold undertone to it, the cold of the grave. “Please send him in, Yoshimo. And then you may leave us. I will send for you when I need you.” 

Yoshimo bowed and stepped aside, and as Dekaras passed by him he thought that the look in the other rogue’s eyes was very disturbing, a mix between pity and relief. I doubt he expects me to come out of here alive. All his senses felt heightened, triggered by the danger ahead, and he could feel his blood rushing faster through his veins. Possibly the vampire inside the room could sense that too. It wasn’t a very pleasant thought. 

As he entered the room, the assassin’s eyes were first drawn to the large coffin in the center of it. Then they settled upon the vampire sitting on top of the coffin, dangling her legs over the side. Bodhi had short black hair, thick and glossy, and dark and glittering eyes that contrasted against skin as white as that of a marble statue. The only bit of color to her was her full lips, which were a deep red. She gave him a small smile, enough to display just a hint of sharp fangs, but that wasn’t what really captured his attention. _An elf?_ True enough, Bodhi had the pointed ears and slender build of an elf, there was no mistake about it. She was wearing what could best be described as a collection of black leather straps, designed to reveal more than they hid, and to hide only what was absolutely necessary. 

“Why, hello to you!” the vampire said, still in that voice that was trying for erotic but wound up as chilling instead. “I am Bodhi…and I welcome you warmly.” She sniffed the air, and then smiled again, revealing more of her fangs. “Very warmly.” 

“Charmed, I’m sure,” Dekaras said, not taking his eyes off the vampire. “You may call me…let me see…’Mordo’. That will do.” 

“An interesting name,” Bodhi said, pursing her lips a little at the elvish word. “’Obscurity’…why that particular one?”

“It is a fitting thing to strive for in my profession, wouldn’t you say? At least in public. Fame tends to be counterproductive.” 

Bodhi laughed, a sound like falling ice cubes, and then she was suddenly on the floor right next to him, her cold hand caressing his neck. _Don’t move. Just don’t move. She is testing the waters still, trying to establish dominance._ It wasn’t all that easy though; he had to use a large amount of will-power not to pull away. 

“I think I like you, Mordo,” Bodhi hissed, her icy lips briefly grazing his skin right beneath the jaw. “Yes, I will accept that name – but do not speak any elvish in my presence apart from that, or I will drain every last drop of blood from your body.” Then she gave him an impish smile, and her voice turned sweet once more, sickly sweet even. “I may still do that of course – after all, I do like you. I think you might make a fine Child of Darkness…but for now, I have another use for you. I so hope you won’t disappoint me by turning me down.” 

“Turn you down?” Dekaras said, forcing himself not to move or to breathe too quickly. “How could I possibly want to disappoint such a charming lady? Where would my manners be?” _Probably dripping out of me, along with my blood, but that’s something I’d rather not think of too hard right now. And I don’t have a choice, not if I’m to get what I want from this creature._

“Good,” Bodhi said, and now that she was so close, he could see that her eyes weren’t black at all, as he had first thought. Rather they were blue, a deep and inky blue, so dark it was almost black. Beautiful to look at, really. “My servants have been watching you for some time, Mordo, and they have impressed me with your skill. I would hate to see you waste yourself on those…Shadow Thieves. So, listen to me closely, while I outline what I have in mind…” 

As he concentrated on the vampire’s words, Dekaras decided that they were pretty much what he had been expecting. He would need to prove himself first, of course. Then, after he had gained Bodhi’s trust, he should be able to find the information he needed, either directly or indirectly. 

_Always assuming she doesn’t get it into her head to turn me, of course. The fangs I would not mind so much, and the shapechanging ability would be useful, but a completely liquid diet sounds rather dull, I think. Besides, I’m fairly certain my beloved would raise a storm over the ‘sleeping in a coffin’ business._


	61. The Rise of the House of De’Arnise

**Cards Reshuffled 61 – The Rise of the House of De’Arnise**

_Insanity is sometimes easily defined, but sometimes it can be tricky. There can be a fine line between insanity and sanity, one that is all too easy to cross given enough stress._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

There was a heavy mist in the air as the party arrived at Keep De’Arnise, and the castle itself reared out of the thick fog like a jagged black rock shooting out of a roiling sea. The mist muffled all sounds, including the adventurers’ voices, giving their approach an oddly dreamlike feeling. The drawbridge was down, but there seemed to be no guards in sight. 

“That is odd,” Jaheira said, frowning. “The girl seemed worried about a hostile move by these ‘Roenals’…so why would she leave the castle unguarded?” 

“Perhaps our nally Nalia has something better in store,” Jan suggested. “There are many ways to guard a place, you know.” 

“You would know, thief,” Anomen said with some distaste. 

“I sure do, Ano! But since I sense you are sadly undereducated about this; I’m going to tell you a story about it.”

Anomen groaned, clasping his hands across his ears. 

“No, no, you don’t need to be shy, Ano! I don’t mind telling you at all. Anyway, this is a story about my second cousin twice removed, Jim Jansen. Charming fellow, I used to practice all my stories on him, though his hair went white early. Can’t think why. Anyway, he was a thief, and a very good one too. Used to take on all the really impossible missions, he did, he worked for this secret thieves guild where every thief had one really special skill, and let me tell you, when it came to masquerading as a turnip, nobody could beat him.” 

Anomen’s eyes had turned really desperate by now. “I could have joined a monastic order…” he muttered, seemingly unaware of his surroundings. “Peace…quiet…raking the garden paths…”

“It isn’t too late yet,” Edwina interjected in her sweetest voice. “Try becoming a eunuch for good measure, it is said to be very calming. I will be happy to help arrange it.” 

“Anyway,” Jan continued in a slightly raised voice, “the thieves of the guild, which was called A.U.N.T. for Advanced Unseen Nosy Thieves, used to get their new missions through the mail. Dangerous stuff, the mail service. Only really ruthless people work there, you know. Why, I could tell you…”

“THE THIEF!” Anomen almost screamed. “What happened to the THIEF?”

“Why Ano, I’m happy to see you so captivated! But don’t you worry…I’m not one to lose track of my stories. As I said, they would get their orders through the mail, and then after they’d read them, they would self-destruct. My poor relative had just returned from a tricky job involving stealing the cloak of the Shadow Master and then impersonating his mistress, who looked like a very charming turnip, at a society ball, while one of his associates dangled upside down from a rope opening a secret safe, one fought some random thugs, and another one flirted with the Prelate of the Order. So, my relative got his next mission, opened the envelope, and…KABOOM!” 

The gnome screamed out the word, after a long and dramatic pause, while also clapping his hands together, making everybody except Minsc jump. 

“Kaboom?” Zaerini asked. 

“Yes…I’m afraid the Shadow Master trapped the mission envelope. It didn’t self-destruct five seconds after being read, it self-destructed as it was opened. Destroyed my poor relative too. But it goes to show that the best trap is the one you never think to check for, and that we should be very careful around here.” 

Rini thought about this for a few seconds. “Right…” she eventually said. “Thanks for summing it up so well, Jan.” 

“Always happy to help, your Worship, always happy to help!” 

It was at this point that the drawbridge rose of its own accord, slamming itself shut behind them, and then creaked loudly in a way that was disturbingly reminiscent of laughter. Even worse, Rini could swear that there were eyes looking back at her from the wood. 

“I think,” Edwina said, “that caution is perhaps just a little bit on the late side.” 

There was a certain nervous tension in the air as the adventurers approached the front door of Keep De’Arnise. It wasn’t improved by the sight of the new doorknocker, which looked like a demonic face, and rolled its eyes at them. “Right…” Rini said. “Who wants the honor of knocking?” 

“Minsc will knock!” Minsc said, his pleased smile a strange contrast to all the tense faces around him. “But Boo says to use special way, or door might bite.”

“Special way? What special…”

CRASH!

Minsc’s armored boot slammed heavily into the door, cracking it slightly. “See? Special way of knocking, that won’t let nasty door bite!” The doorknocker looked quite frightened by now. 

“Well,” Edwina said with a straight face. “If they don’t hear that, they have to be sleeping like the dead.” Then she made a face. “Actually, knowing Xzar, they just might be. (That wizard is completely insane. Totally, droolingly, rabidly insane.)” 

As if in response to her comment, shuffling and heavy footsteps could be heard from inside, coming steadily closer and closer. Finally, with a tortured groan, the door swung open, revealing a very strange sight indeed. Abduh was standing there, his normal large and rotting self, spreading a stench that made everybody take a few steps backwards. That wasn’t the strange thing. The strange thing was that he was wearing a neat butler’s uniform, complete with starched shirt and dignified vest, and he was carrying a small towel across one gray-skinned arm. “Urrrrrghhh?” he queried. 

“A-Abduh?!” Rini said. “What are you…why are you…no, never mind. I’m not sure I want to know. Er…is Nalia at home?”

“Urrrrgh!” Abduh said, nodding. Then he made an inviting gesture towards the dark door opening. “Urrrgh, urrrrrgh, urrrrrgh.” He then stepped inside, clearly expecting them to follow. 

“Did he just say ‘Follow me?’” Zaerini asked of nobody in particular. 

“Yes,” Edwina agreed. “I’m sure of it. (And the fact that I seem to understand him better and better seriously worries me.)” 

The interior of Keep De’Arnise was a little…different than Zaerini remembered it. The ancient furniture was still there, and the wall hangings with their faded battle scenes. But…the shadows seemed longer somehow, and now and then she thought she could hear odd little scuttling noises in the darkness. At one-point something giggled from the shadows. She couldn’t see what it was, and she didn’t really want to see it either. Even the smell of Abduh was comfortable by comparison. 

“Urrrrgh,” the zombie eventually said, pulling open a door. By now, Rini wasn’t sure exactly what part of the Keep they were in, she had thoroughly lost her way. 

“Enter!” Nalia’s voice rang out from inside, and the half-elf gratefully stepped across the threshold. Then she stopped suddenly, staring in surprise. The room she found herself in was a small sitting room, which wasn’t so odd in itself. There were some nice and comfortable chairs and a couch, a few small tables and bookshelves, and two skeletons. Of course, the skeletons weren’t exactly part of the furniture. Rather, they were moving the furniture, or to be more precise, a large and heavy-looking coat of arms. The background was a deep crimson, there was a prone shape lying on the ground, and the figure of a snarling fox standing above it. A motto was inscribed along the edge, partially obscured by the bony fingers of the two skeletons as they moved the coat of arms here and there along the wall. 

”’Epulanda carnibus hostium “’…” Edwina said. “Let me see…’To feast upon the flesh of our foes’, correct?” 

“That’s right!” Nalia proudly stated. “I found it down in the cellars…I mean the dungeons…I think it’s high time it was displayed again, so nobody will forget the proud heritage of the De’Arnise family.” 

“Child…” Jaheira said, her eyes transfixed on the young noblewoman. “Just what have you done with your hair?”

“Oh, this?” Nalia said, tugging at her hair. “Isn’t it nice?” She smiled a dreamy smile. “Xzar certainly seems to like it…” Nalia was still wearing the black of deep mourning. Very deep, it had to be admitted. A long, midnight black dress, that trailed behind her as she walked. Black gloves. A small black veil on her head. And on that head, the noblewoman’s normally reddish-blonde hair had also been dyed a uniform black. You kept expecting interestingly pale cheeks and a wan smile to go with that hair and that dress, and Nalia’s naturally rosy complexion and amiable demeanor somehow managed to create a very disturbing contrast. 

“And…the skeletons?” Anomen just barely managed to get out. 

“A skeleton crew, obviously,” Jan said. “Servants demanding too high wages these days, Nalia?”

Nalia frowned a little. “No…” she said. “It’s just that they’ve all quit for some reason. I can’t think why.” Then her face brightened again, as she pointed at the two shuffling skeletons. They looked fairly new, there was still…tissue…hanging off them in places. “But Xzar has been teaching me so much lately, and I really think I can be a great Necromancer! Just look at these things, aren’t they just perfect? They used to belong to a pair of Roenal soldiers who came here looking for trouble, you see. So obedient, so helpful, so…” 

“Cheap on the food bills?” Rini asked, unable to help herself. She could still hear that disturbing giggle…but where was it coming from? Her eyes kept drifting towards a large chair standing in front of the fireplace, its back towards here. Was that a pair of shoes she could glimpse beneath it?

Edwina gave the skeletons a measuring look. “For a paltry little apprentice such as yourself, it is an adequately cast spell, I suppose. Though undead servants can be troublesome too. (I still remember when the pet ghoul that Mother had created for garbage disposal got loose…) But the skeletons were always good for fetching and carrying, that is true enough.” 

_Sometimes I really wonder about what her family is like…I suppose I’m a fine one to talk, but I sort of dread meeting them in person. Especially her mother…_

“They do need some supervision still,” Nalia agreed. “Not like Abduh here.” She smiled at the zombie. “Abduh, dear…why don’t you run along and let Xzar know we have guests? I’m sure he’ll be thrilled. And Montaron too, if you can find him.” 

“Urrrrrrrrghhh…” the zombie said, lurching out the door and leaving part of his stench behind. Nalia looked fondly after him. 

“Dear Abduh…such a treasure he is. I don’t know what we’d do without him.”

“Treasure? TREASURE?” The voice rising from the high-backed chair was very loud, and very screechy, sounding like the call of an angry and elderly bird. “Don’t you go telling them about the treasure, girl! They’ll want to steal it, the low-born little pieces of filth! And it’s ours!” A head suddenly became visible from around the chair, a head dominated by a large mass of filthy white and disheveled hair, and a pair of maliciously glittering eyes. “They steal, they all steal! But I know how to stop them, I’ll just CUT ALL THEIR HEADS OFF! Yes…then they will be good for something. Are tentacles good to eat, pray tell? Or prey tell…” Another hideous giggle.

“Lady Delcia?” Anomen squeaked, staring in horror at the crone-like apparition. 

“Yes…” Nalia said. “Auntie was going down in the cellars…dungeons I mean…to see that the cleaning was properly done, and I think she ran across one of Xzar’s experiments.” Her worried look faded rapidly. “Still, she’s far happier and more easy-going these days, I think that meeting new people has been really good for her.” 

_Late that evening…_

It was getting worse and worse. Edwina angrily got out of bed, brushing the tangled dark mess that was her hair out of her face. _Yet another curse of this laughable body._ She had tried to be strong, to not let the Nether Curse get to her, to pretend that everything was just fine. But it was all a lie, and she didn’t think she would be able to pretend much longer. Coming back to Keep De’Arnise had made it even harder to ignore her wretched condition. _This was where it happened. This was where I was foolish enough to cast that miserable spell. Yet another mistake to add to my list of hideous blunders._ Unbidden, her eyes drifted towards her pack, then away, as if she had been burnt. The Nether Scroll…she still carried it with her, in the hopes of eventually finding out exactly what she had done wrong…and to find a cure for it. Yet she had tried and tried, and so far, it had all been to no avail. 

The wizard shivered a little, pulling the duvet out of her bed and wrapping it about her shoulders as she padded over to her pack. Insufferable was sleeping in a small box on the bedside table, rolled into a small towel, now and then sniffling a little. The days might be warm, but the walls of Keep De’Arnise were cold, cold as death. _I must try again…I must try._ She was extremely tired, she had been up late studying her spells and her eyes felt full of grit, but she couldn’t sleep anyway. Perhaps another attempt at the Scroll would be successful. Perhaps. 

Bitterly she recalled how different it had been as she first found the Nether Scroll, the exaltation with which she pounced upon it every night. Now she could barely bring herself to touch it. _But I have to. I have to._ She bent down over her pack and stuck her hand inside, rummaging about until her questing fingers found the paper she sought, and then drew it out without looking at it. _An Odesseiron doesn’t give up in the face of adversity…I can cope with this. Can’t I?_ Her fingers cramped spasmodically around the scroll, wrinkling it a little. 

Rubbing wearily at her eyes, Edwina sat down at the table, casting a small cantrip to light the candle standing there. Then she unrolled the scroll and looked at it. And then she simply sat there, motionless, as her vision slowly blurred. 

The paper she had pulled out wasn’t the Nether Scroll at all. Rather it was an entirely different form of magic – and it pierced her to the core. What she was holding in her hands was a portrait. It was quite good; not the work of a professional artist, but that of a gifted amateur whose technical skills did not quite match the depth of feeling that had been invested in it. It was a slightly rough charcoal drawing, a little smudged in a couple of places, but the model was clearly recognizable. Her teacher’s sharp-featured face looked back at her, dark eyes glittering with fond amusement, and a slightly lop-sided half-smile played around his lips. That was as much as she saw before she had to wipe her eyes on the sleeve of her robe, so she wouldn’t risk staining the portrait.

Edwina felt her fingers trembling convulsively, and she had to put the portrait down on the table so there would be no danger of accidentally tearing it. Then, she gently smoothed it, trying to remove what wrinkles there were. _I remember him posing for that…it took days. I thought he’d get impatient with me eventually…but he never did. He never did._ She swallowed heavily, choking back the sob that wanted to emerge. “Why did it have to be like this?” she whispered, to the portrait as much as to herself. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be a simple mission, so that I could make you…make everybody proud. And then we were supposed to come home triumphant. But it isn’t going to be like that, and it is all my fault. I didn’t mean to…but I couldn’t help it. I love her…I couldn’t hurt her. But I never wanted to hurt you either.” She took a long, shivering breath, and tried to push her tangled hair out of her face. “I really love her, you know. I never thought I’d feel like that, but…isn’t love supposed to make you happy? Isn’t that what they all say? Have you ever felt that way about anybody? You never said…but you wouldn’t, of course. It’s not as if it’s any of my business.” 

She looked at the portrait, imagining she could see a questioning look in its eyes. “Yes…I love her. I would kill for her. I would die for her. She is everything, and without her there is nothing. I know it sounds insane…but that is how it is. When she smiles…it feels the same as when I cast a spell just right, and the magic fills me entirely, as if the world is at my feet and I can do anything.” 

_Well, that is certainly nice…but don’t you think you ought to be telling her that, rather than me? Unless you were expecting me to play matchmaker and deliver flowers to her by climbing in her window, something that I frankly doubt would be a good idea._

Edwina smiled faintly, almost managing to hear her teacher’s voice, down to the last sarcastic nuance, as she supplied his part of the conversation inside her own head. “I want to tell her,” she whispered to the portrait. “I really do. But…I cannot make myself do it. Not when I’m like this. Look at me! I’m a pitiful mess! And she deserves better than that, she deserves me to be strong for her, not to be a burden. She deserves perfection…” 

_Ah, yes. Perfection. An elusive target, that. And I’m afraid you share my own regrettable tendency to chase it, even when it is an impossible goal. She doesn’t want perfection. She wants you. And you shouldn’t need me to tell you that, it’s in every look she gives you._

“But look at me!” 

_You are still you, despite the tremendous fool you have made of yourself. Do you honestly think she would care less for you because of this sad mishap? She would not, any more than I would._

Edwina thought about this for a few moments, nervously fingering the ruby amulet hanging about her throat. As always, a faint warmth spread to her fingers, soothing like a warm embrace. It made her feel safe…secure. “Perhaps…but I don’t want her to feel sorry for me!” 

_Oh? You want her to laugh at you then, like the others do? Not the most commonly requested attitude in a potential lover._

“You know what I mean. I want her to love me as I love her, to think me wonderful in every way. I don’t want her to stay with me out of pity!” 

Edwina almost thought she could hear the dismissive snort that followed. _Pity? You clearly do not have any understanding at all about what is going on here, my dear girl. She feels sorry for you, but do you truly believe she would ever give herself to you out of pity? If so, you severely underestimate her._

“What about him though? What about that accursed Helmite?”

_What about him? He’s a bit annoying, but it’s not as if he can cause any serious harm._

“How can you say that? He’s always sniffing around her…making eyes at her…primping his stupid beard, which isn’t half as elegant and stylish as mine…” Edwina’s voice trailed off a little as she remembered her currently smooth chin. “As mine used to be.” Her mouth set in a stubborn line and she crossed her arms across her chest. “Anyway, he’s always trailing after her, like a dog tracking a deer.” 

_Deer? I’ve met the girl, remember? There’s nothing deer-like about her, or you’d never have started to care for her in the first place. She can take care of herself._

“Well, yes. Maybe. But he keeps swaggering about, boasting and bragging and making himself look completely ridiculous with his exaggerated claims!”

_Completely unlike you, in other words._

“Yes, exactly! But I won’t let him lay claim to her in any way, shape or form.” Edwina felt herself snarling, and the hot rage was rising in her blood at the very thought of Anomen. “He may have the manhood I currently lack – but if he thinks he’ll steal her from me, then he’s mistaken. I will never let him do that, and if he pushes too hard…I’ll kill him.” She meant it; she knew that for certain. She had thought about it before, but now she knew it was the truth. She would, and she would be happy about it. For a few seconds she thought she could almost see the blood, and she smiled, a smile that would have impressed her as appropriately cold and frightening, had she been able to see it. 

_Oh, brilliant. That will really make her happy, won’t it?_

“What?”

_Sometimes you really remind me of your mother, you know._

“Is that good?”

_Sometimes. But right now it’s making you insanely angry for no real reason at all._

“But…”

_Will you just keep your mouth shut for two seconds and pay attention to what I’m saying? The girl is not in love with the priest, but I doubt you’ll get that through your stubborn head until you hear it from her own lips._

“But…”

By now Edwina thought the portrait was looking rather exasperated with her. _So, talk to her, and the sooner the better. Tell her all the things you are holding back. I really do not want to see you this miserable, you know._

Edwina closed her eyes again for a moment, blinking away the tears that suddenly threatened to overtake her. “About that other thing…what I did…I’m sorry. I did what I had to, but I never wanted to cause you pain. Can you ever forgive me?”

For a few seconds there was silence, and she felt a surge of fear that the voice of her tutor had left her for good. Then it spoke again, gentler than before. 

_Edwin…I could forgive you just about anything, but you need to ask me that in person. After all, this isn’t really me. This is you, using me to tell yourself what you need to hear. And this is one question that I don’t think you dare answer yourself. You won’t be happy until we talk about it._

“But you aren’t here…” Edwina quietly said, her heart filling with despair once more. “And I don’t know when I will ever see you again, and that is all my fault.” 

_Come now…_ the familiar voice spoke, soothing her as it had always done, as far back as she could remember, its very tone promising that everything would be all right, somehow. _I would never abandon you; you should know that. No matter how long it takes me, I will always come for you, wherever you go. Believe in that if you can believe in nothing else. I will come._

As the voice slowly faded from her desperately reaching mind, Edwina sat staring at the candle, her eyes unblinking. The flame flickered, faltered, and eventually died, leaving her in darkness, and in solitude. 

There was a tiny yawn, and the wizard felt a small and furry body nudging her palm. Absentmindedly she stroked the fluffy animal, tickling its belly. 

_Boss?_ Insufferable asked, sounding worried. _How are ya doing? I woke up, and noticed you were feeling really sad, and then I heard you talking to somebody? Was somebody here?_

“No…” Edwina said, her voice smaller and more lost than the monkey had ever heard it before. She carefully, very carefully, rolled up the paper that was lying on the table, and then gently tucked it into her scroll case, like a child putting her cherished doll to bed. “No. There was nobody here. I was only…talking to myself.”


	62. Tea and Trademeet

**Cards Reshuffled 62 – Tea and Trademeet**

_Tea…it is almost a magical brew, one that makes people try to behave in a civilized way, despite such minor details as hating each other, being dead or undead, or plotting vast destruction. It could probably make even a Baatezu and a Tanar’ri sit down peacefully and exchange waspish remarks rather than trying to kill each other. The exception to this rule is small monkeys. If you own one, never ever feed it tea after midnight, not unless you want it to pee in your and your lover’s bed before morning. Coffee is also out._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

"Urrrrghhhh?"

Zaerini nodded graciously. "Yes, thank you, Abduh. Those cookies were excellent." She took another one from the silver plate the zombie was holding out towards her and munched on it. There was chocolate inside…definitely chocolate. 

"Urrrrrghhhh!" Abduh exclaimed, beaming at her. Well, at least she thought he was beaming. Considering the state of his face, it was a bit difficult to tell. 

"Isn't he a good boy?" Xzar excitedly said. The mad Necromancer was lounging comfortably in a large and virulently purple armchair, which Rini couldn't remember from her previous visit to Keep De'Arnise. His tattooed face split in a large smile. "I've trained him to fetch me my slippers every morning too, you know, and he's very clever about it." 

"Oh yes," Nalia agreed, and gave the mage a fond look. She was still wearing her pitch-black attire from the previous day, and from the way Xzar caught his breath whenever he looked at her, Rini could guess why. "Of course, a couple of days ago he got it just a little wrong and fetched Auntie Delcia's slippers instead." She sighed. "I'm afraid she got rather upset." 

"I suppose it is a bit annoying when you can't find your things," Rini agreed. 

"Oh, no, that wasn’t the problem. She was still wearing them at the time you see." 

A loud and piercing cackle issued from the floor, where Lady Delcia was sitting cross-legged, sifting through an old box of spell components. "I'm learning to be a witch, I am!" she proudly proclaimed through her mass of filthy and uncombed hair. "Power should be wielded by those of noble blood…and all lesser blood should be spilt!" 

"Auntie!" Nalia gently chided, and then gave Rini an apologetic look. "She's still a little delicate after the Thing in the cellar…I mean dungeon. She doesn't really mean any harm." 

Lady Delcia cackled evilly once more and stuffed a bat wing into her mouth. "Have to taste it," she said. "Otherwise you can't tell if it works." 

"Right…" Rini said, trying to edge a little backwards in her chair, away from the madwoman. "If you say so." 

"It's true!" Xzar agreed. "But of course, I don't have to taste myself, I simply ask the Giant Rat of Sembia to do it for me." 

"The giant what?"

"Ssssshhhh!" Xzar said, putting a finger across his mouth. "The world is not yet ready for that tale, my dear Zaerini! If you wish to tell it, you must write it down and hide it in a metal box for at least fifty years first." He giggled. "And remember to properly describe my triumph over the Queen of the Couch Potatoes, just as it happened. She thought she killed me by pushing me into the tentacled arms of the Great Star-Frog, but I lived!"

"I'll try to keep that in mind," the half-elf said, trying to fight the odd sensation that her brain was slowly beginning to melt. 

The rest of her party was hopefully packing and getting ready for the journey to Trademeet, except for Jaheira who was sitting stiffly on the edge of her chair, sipping a cup of tea and saying little. The druid hadn't been particularly keen about eating cookies baked and served by a zombie, but she had agreed with Rini that it was the polite thing to do. Anomen had claimed that he needed to thoroughly pray to Helm before departing, and that his God wanted him to fast for a few hours, Minsc said that Boo had a tummy ache because somebody had been feeding him too much, and that the 'naughty gnome' would be made to say sorry, and Jan had made himself scarce. As for Edwina, Zaerini hadn't seen her yet this morning, and it was beginning to worry her. The wizard had seemed to be holding up well most of the time, but now and then it was painfully obvious that she was anything but fine. 

_If only she'd talk to me about it. How am I supposed to help her if she won't even admit that anything's wrong?_ She had tried, more than once. Edwina kept stubbornly insisting that she was well though, or as well as she could be under the circumstances, and she had even got snappy about being questioned. _But I have to do something. If only I knew what. I don't think she'll be able to dispel this Nether thing on her own, no matter what she says, and so far, none of the temples have been able to help. Perhaps we could check out that 'Kangaxx' person once we get back from Trademeet. Nevaziah did hint that he might help…not that we have any reason to trust the lich, but at least it's something. If this lasts for much longer, I don't know what will happen…suppose she hurts somebody? Or even worse, suppose…suppose she hurts herself?_ The thought was unbearable. _Kangaxx it is. I don't care if it's a trap, not if there's a chance it could help her. We'll just have to be very, very careful._

"So," Jaheira was saying, "how are the affairs of the Keep coming along? And what about that suitor of yours, child? That 'Isaea' person you mentioned before?"

"Well, the repairs to the Keep are progressing nicely, as you can see," Nalia eagerly said, her cheeks a little flushed. "I have so many great plans, and so does Xzar…he really is clever when it comes to these things." She frowned a little. "It's funny though…the peasants always used to come up here to ask for advice about things when Father was alive, but they don't seem to come as often these days. I can't think why." 

Jaheira looked across the noblewoman's shoulder at Abduh, who had temporarily abandoned his butler role and was lying on his back on the floor, while Xzar rubbed his belly and called him 'the best little zombie in the whole wide world'. Abduh was rolling his eyes, or rather his eye, with excitement, and his tongue was hanging out through the hole in his cheek. "A real mystery," she said, not batting an eyelid. 

"Yes…a shame though. I really want to help them, and now that I'm learning Necromancy, I'll soon be able to fix things much better than before. Anyway, what else…Father's funeral was held recently, we only got home a day before you got here, in fact." 

"Oh," Rini said. "I'm sorry…"

Nalia bit her lip a little. "It's all right," she said. "I still miss him tremendously…but he would have wanted me to be strong, for the sake of the family. And it was a beautiful funeral, many of his friends showed up." Then she made a face. "Unfortunately, so did Isaea." 

Xzar instantly got to his feet, and Abduh gave a surprised 'Urrrrghhh?' at his master's sudden distress. "That rotting spawn of the Great Feeder!" he spat, making Lady Delcia mutter something about how 'Farthington Roenal always did enjoy his food.' Xzar's face was twisted up with terrible anger, and the tattoos made him look uncomfortably like some sort of minor demon, as he positioned himself behind Nalia's chair, his hands resting on her shoulders. "He is in the service of the Rabbits, I know it, yes I do! He has the same shifty eyes and twitchy little nose, but we will make Rabbit Stew and serve him with tasty taters, oh yes!" 

"He tried to threaten me," Nalia explained, patting Xzar's hand in order to calm him down. "He seems to think he can somehow force me to go through with the marriage, so that he can take control of both me and my holdings." Her mouth set in a stubborn line. "But I won't allow it. If he comes here looking for trouble, he will be made to regret it, and I will teach him that I follow the De'Arnise family motto to the letter. The Rabbits…I mean Roenalls…will not take this Keep." 

"Good for you!" Rini said approvingly. "What a slimy little bastard he seems to be…is there anything we can do to help?"

"I don't think so. It's not as if we can do anything unless he tries to make a move, and you can't wait around here for that to happen." Nalia smiled again, her eyes glittering as she looked at Xzar. "Besides…I am not alone." 

"Of course not, my tasty little treacle pudding!" Xzar agreed. "I will defend you against all Bunny Boys, and so will Monty and Abduh." 

"Urrrrghh!" Abduh enthusiastically agreed, nodding until his nose dropped onto the cookie plate. 

"Speaking of which," Zaerini asked, "where _is_ Montaron? I haven't seen him since we got here."

"Oh, he's working on the Keep defences," Nalia said. "He found some of the old things grandfather set up, he seemed very enthusiastic. Especially about the catapults. Why, only yesterday he managed to come up with a very clever way of firing these flaming missiles that don't go out for hours." Then she suddenly seemed to think of something. "But I am forgetting my manners! Abduh, what did we tell you before?"

"Urrrrghhh," Abduh bashfully said, holding the cookie plate out. Rini stared at the grey and rotting nose that lay in the center of it like some sort of horrible decoration. "Urrrrgh urrrrghhh?"

"No thank you," she managed to say. "I'm actually quite full already…" 

-*-

Aerie was also having tea and enjoying herself thoroughly. The Jysstev Mansion was a fairly nice place, decorated in the typical Athkatlan style with a pleasant little atrium containing a marble pool with a rather tacky fountain portraying a chubby child with wings on. _Completely ridiculous. That thing is far too fat to ever get airborne, much less gain any decent height._

“Oh…” she said, smiling sweetly at Lady Jysstev, a nervous young woman with mousy brown hair and a look of well-meaning inefficiency about her. “What a charming home you have…Athkatlan ways are such a treat.” _Gaudy and indescribably vulgar compared to the art of the Avariel of course, much as I despise my former people._

“How kind!” Lady Jysstev said, smiling and blushing a little. “And I must say, I am so happy that Lord Logum introduced you to me! I am only recently married, as I told you before, and since I hail from Trademeet I have not yet made many acquaintances in Athkatla. It is so nice to meet somebody new!” 

“Oh yes,” Aerie said, delicately sipping some tea from an exquisite cup of bone china, decorated with little silver flowers. The tea tasted faintly of jasmine, she thought. “Lord Logum is such a gracious man!” _And a conceited moron, if a useful one._ “But surely a charming lady such as yourself must have made some friends already?” _Since you are naïve enough that just about anybody could pluck you clean, my little chicken. And wasn’t it nice of him to take me up on my suggestion about meeting you…_

“Well…” Lady Jysstev said, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper and looking nervously about her. “Actually…there is somebody…somebody very special.”

“But…” Aerie said, managing a slightly shocked look. “Your husband…” _Ha! I know exactly to what you refer, my dear, but it wouldn’t do to let you know that I spotted him in the Promenade weeks ago. A very clever illusion it was, but my Mistress Loviatar guided me to the truth._

“Oh no!” the young noblewoman exclaimed, blushing even more than before. “Nothing like that, not at all! My husband takes such good care of me, I would never…but I’d rather he not finds out about this, he might not approve.” 

Aerie smiled, her eyes widening into a look of pure innocence. “Of course not! I…I would never betray your trust, my lady! Ever! You can tell me anything.” 

Lady Jysstev looked indecisive for a few moments, but then she giggled. “Oh, very well! He did say that I could tell anybody whom I trusted, and I can’t think of anybody more trustworthy than you, my dear! There is this very special person, he has marvelous powers, and he says he will teach those of us who are worthy to become his acolytes! And he is called…the Hidden!” 

“Oh my…” Aerie said, twining a golden lock around her finger as she gazed admiringly at the babbling noblewoman. “How very exciting…please, do tell me everything you know…” _An illithid creating a cult amongst the foolish humans of this city…how very amusing. It matters not what its purposes are. Give me but a chance, and they will soon be mine, and then it will be high time to seek my vengeance. And to serve my Mistress of course. Always and forever that, and there will be glorious pain awaiting those who would stand against me._

-*-

Nevaziah the Lich was not having tea. That is because when you are essentially a mummified corpse, drinking hot liquids is generally not a good idea. He was, however, holding a cup containing embalming fluid that sort of resembled tea, because when you’re in a meeting with somebody you loathe it always helps to have something to do with your hands. His other hand was filled with his Ducky, who looked just as annoyed as Nevaziah felt. 

“So, Nev,” Kangaxx the Demilich brayed in that annoying, cocky voice of his, that always seemed to be dripping butter. “Still wearing that silly hat, I see. Any news from the old crypt? Forgotten any spells lately, old buddy?” He laughed uproariously, displaying his gold teeth. 

“No,” Nevaziah said, grinding what teeth he had left. “But actually, I have some news. I met these adventurers recently, you see.”

“Adventurers!” Kangaxx scoffed. “Pitiful little pests, the lot o’ them! Always running about dragging mud into your clean tomb, trying to rob you. I always make short work of that lot.” 

“Yes,” Nevaziah agreed. “But I thought you might be interested in them…you’re still looking for some saps…I mean mercenaries to go find those bones of yours, yes?” _Please let him fall for it, pleasepleaseplease…_

“True,” Kangaxx agreed. “Not that I can’t do without ‘em…but I do miss the old things on chilly nights. And they’re gold of course. Some of us have class you know, not like you, you poor old thing. Ha Ha HA!” 

_I’ll have Ducky eat your soul, see if I won’t, you miserable deadhead._ “Ah ha ha ha…your sense of humor always cracks me up, Kangaxx,” Nevaziah managed to say. “Anyway, I think you want to give them a chance. You can always kill them afterwards.” _Either way, I win, whether it’s the pesky thieves or the bragging Demilich who gets wiped out. I’m so clever, only Ducky could possibly think of a better plan! And my hat is not silly._

-*-

There was a large bear running straight for her, and it didn’t have the attitude or general demeanor of a cuddly teddy bear. No, this was a large brown bear, big enough to practically make the ground shake beneath its feet, with mad and vicious little red eyes, wicked claws that could take a person’s head off with one blow, and nasty fangs. Not quite as sharp as those of the wolf that ran alongside the bear though, approaching with that easy loping gait that made it look as if it was almost floating across the ground. The wolf had its eyes fixed on her throat, Zaerini thought, fixed with a horrible purpose, and it had its mouth slightly open. _My, what big teeth you have…the better to tear you to pieces with, my dear._ Oh, and then there was a horde of spiders, and even a few deer, kicking and trying to gore people with their antlers. _Yep. Looks like Trademeet really is in trouble._

The journey from Keep De’Arnise had gone well, with no major problems. No bandit attacks, no monsters, nothing to worry about. Well, not unless you counted the fact that Edwina seemed to get more morose daily, and that little detail Rini was seriously worried about. She’d tried talking to her about it, but the wizard kept withdrawing into herself more and more, and getting more and more waspish. Something needed to be done, and soon. _But what? When I try to tell her that I care about her in this form as well as in her normal one, she doesn’t really believe me. She thinks I’m only trying to reassure her. I’ll have to show her somehow…that is, right after I avoid getting eaten by this rabid bear._

The animals were all about the walls of Trademeet, mounting incessant attacks at the city gates. Wolves, panthers, bears, snakes, spiders, deer, badgers, and many more, they all charged furiously again and again, pitting fangs and claws against the defenders’ swords and arrows. Many animals already lay slain, their rotting carcasses swarming with flies, but they kept coming as if possessed, and the soldiers were beginning to weary.

The bear shrieked as Edwina sent a fireball directly at its head, and as the poor creature flailed and burned it almost set fire to the wolf, which ran away yipping, its tail between its legs. Minsc was facing off against another, smaller bear, his sword swinging through the air with a whistling sound. “Wooohoooo!” Lilarcor screamed. “Take that one, and that one too! Teddy goes down, baby!” 

Anomen was using the Flail of Ages with great precision, hitting one animal just long enough to slow it down by the weapon’s magic, then turning to another one, thus helping to make the battle easier for his friends. 

Jaheira was staring at another group of wolves, her green eyes a little unfocused as she concentrated. Her lips moved silently, and then the animals suddenly backed off and ran, looking highly confused. “These animals are being dominated!” the druid barked. “They have no will of their own, they will fight to the death against any odds.” 

Jan’s crossbow was hard at work, and the gnome had selected his special ammunition, his beloved Flasher Bruiser Mates. Whenever they hit an animal, it froze in its tracks, paralyzed and unable to move. 

As Rini cast a spell of her own, putting three panthers to sleep before they had the time to reach her, she heard Edwina chanting words of magic close by her. The wizard had stuck to area damage spells, in order to take the animals out as swiftly as possible, and it had been working well. Now though, she suddenly broke off in the middle of a word, cursing violently, and as Zaerini turned around she understood the reason for it. What seemed to be hundreds of small mice were swarming across the wizard’s feet and legs, biting and squeaking in their tiny voices. Anybody would have a hard time concentrating under such circumstances. 

Without thinking, the half-elf slipped into her alternate shape, and a red cat lunged at the mice, spitting and hissing. The mice squealed with terror and ran. They might be charmed into attacking all humans without mercy, but they knew and feared a hungry cat when they saw one. _Food! Play! Funny, furry toys!_ Zaerini wasn’t certain if it was her own thought or Softpaws’, for the black cat was chasing the mice just as eagerly as she herself was. _Run faster, faster! Want to play!_ She pounced, and her claws slammed into the back of her chosen prey, neatly impaling it, as her jaws opened. _Food…play some more?_

And then there was a hand grasping her firmly by the scruff of her neck, hoisting her into the air, and she hissed out her protest. 

“No, child,” Jaheira said. “I really do not think you want to eat that.” 

“Ooops…” Rini said, blushing a little as she turned back to her normal form. She hurriedly hid the dead mouse behind her back. “I didn’t really mean…I mean, I just wanted to…” 

“I know, child,” the druid said. “A shapechange is an insidious thing, the urges of the body you inhabit can easily make you forget yourself if you do not make a conscious effort to control them.”

_How boring_ , Softpaws huffed, batting another dead mouse about with her paw. _Well, if you don’t want a perfectly good snack, then I’ll have yours too._

_You’re welcome._

_Shame they won’t run anymore…think the priest might reanimate it?_

_No Softy. I don’t really think Anomen wants to create an army of undead mice as toys for you. And I agree with him there._

_Just get back on four legs and I’m sure you’ll change your mind._

“Minsc and Boo feel sorry for all the poor animals,” Minsc said, his eyes filled with honest tears. “Minsc didn’t want to fight them, but they were all funny in the head and wouldn’t even talk to Boo.” 

“They were being dominated by somebody,” Jaheira explained, her face hard as she surveyed the carnage. “Somebody has severely twisted the powers gifted to those who follow the Balance, twisted them to make these poor beasts into an army, with no concern for the blood shed by them. They were not asked to aid, the way a druid normally might, they were forced against their will, ordered about like vassals.”

“Oh,” Jan said. “Just like when you assign kitchen duties, right Jae?”

“I do not order anybody about! I simply happen to be the most experienced campaigner amongst us, and as such it is natural for me to divide the work fairly.” 

“Fairly?” Edwina asked, scowling. “I cook twice as often as the gnome; I’ve been keeping careful count.” 

“That is because you actually _can_ cook when you limit the spices. Whereas he…well, do you really want to have Turnip Surprise every night?”

“That’s beside the point, druid! You’re only trying to make me do all the work because I happen to be a woman, you chauvinist pig!” 

“Edwina…” Zaerini said, trying to get a word in. “Jaheira is a woman too.”

“Ha! That’s not an excuse!” 

“What’s wrong with Turnip Surprise?” Jan asked, sounding puzzled. 

“The same thing that is wrong with Turnip Delight, Turnip Salad, Turnip Stew, Turnip Mash, Tunip Porridge, Turnip Gruel, Turnip Juice and Plain Turnip,” Jaheira said between clenched teeth. “It is all turnips!” 

Anomen groaned quietly. “Please, lady Jaheira…do not mention Turnip Gruel again,” he complained. “With Helm’s aid I had just managed to forget it.” 

At this point, somebody cleared a throat nearby, and the adventurers turned to see some of the soldiers who had been fighting the animals earlier. For people who had just been rescued, they looked astonishingly ungrateful, even downright hostile. 

“You!” one of them said, pointing at Jaheira. “You are one of them, aren’t you? A druid? Don’t bother denying it!” 

Jaheira drew herself up proudly, and when she spoke her voice was icy cold. “I am a druid, yes, and proud of it. I do not know these ‘them’ of which you speak, but I give you my word that I mean you no harm.”

“That’s right,” Rini said, feeling insulted on her friend’s behalf. “We are adventurers, and we only came here because we heard this place was in some kind of trouble. Fine way you have of showing gratitude for our help!” 

“We do not want any help from druids!” another soldier sneered. “Not after all the suffering they’ve caused around here, with their beasts. The only good druid is a dead druid!” 

Several of the other men cheered loudly at this. 

“Quiet!” the leader ordered, then turned to the party once more. “Since you did seem to aid us, we will trust you enough to let you depart in peace. But no druid will get inside the walls of Trademeet, nor will the rest of you while in her company, not while I am yet alive to defend my town.” 

“Oh, I love it when people make that sort of comment,” Edwina murmured, reaching for her spell components. 

“Not now,” Zaerini whispered, grasping the other woman’s wrist. “We don’t want the entire town to turn against us, after all.” Then she turned to the soldiers again. “Fine, we’ll go. But you’re wrong, and you’re making a big mistake here.”

“Child,” Jaheira said as they turned around, “the rest of you could go inside while I wait outside the walls. I would not mind.” 

“No! We’re friends, and I won’t leave you behind. I won’t. We’ll think of something else. Let’s just explore outside the walls first, there seem to be some tents over there…” 

The druid nodded, smiling faintly. “As you wish then. It is perhaps a somewhat foolish sentiment on your account…but I appreciate it, all the same.” 

“You’re welcome,” Rini said, grinning at the older half-elf. “So, let’s just go see if anybody in those tents has any nice ideas about how to get inside those walls.” As she walked, she recalled her latest reading, or rather one particular part of it. _Temperance, balancing life and death. Balance…as in druids. However druids are involved in these animal attacks, for whatever reason, I’m already mixed up in it. And what else did I get told? That I had to restore the balance…and that only by doing so I would be able to go on to the Lovers._ She sneaked a surreptitious glance at Edwina. The wizard was walking in silence, her dark eyes painfully distant. _I would do anything to achieve that. Anything for her. What else did the Reading say…the Three of Coins would somehow serve the Lovers. Three of Coins…how odd. I don’t see how that could help. But one thing at a time. The druids first, and then, the Lovers._

-*-

In the Druid Grove, a little to the east of Trademeet, a woman knelt before the fount that was the source of her power. Cool water streamed endlessly out of an opening in the smooth rock of the cave, water that had an almost invisible silver sparkle to it. A hazy, green light illuminated the cave, the green of living and growing things. 

The woman was completely naked, that the power that was in the light and the water might be more easily absorbed. She could feel it rushing into her continuously, feeding her strength, and enhancing her powers immensely. She laughed, a wild and slightly crazy sound, pushing the tangled clumps of her hair out of her eyes that she might better peer into the water. And she could see them…oh yes, she could see them well, the enemies of Nature. Her servant beasts had fallen to them, but she was strong, she was cunning, and she had other ways to deal with the defilers, should they dare approach. Especially that one, the one whom she remembered all too well, the one who was anathema to her. “No true druid are you, ‘sister’,” she snarled. “You are a betrayer of Nature, and for that you will pay. Come then…come to your death.”


	63. Gabbing with Genies

**Cards Reshuffled 63 – Gabbing with Genies**

_If you ever thought genies are nice things, that are happy to grant your every wish, then think again. They can grant your every wish, but that doesn’t mean they want to, and they like nothing better than using your own words to trip you up, while following the letter of your agreement. Only deal with them if you strongly suspect you can outthink them._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“That,” Anomen said, “is not a human!” 

“Why, I do believe you’re right,” Edwina remarked with a small sneer. “Whatever could have tipped you off? That he’s half again as tall as a human? Or perhaps that he just shot out of the ground when we appeared, without digging? Oh, wait. Could it be the way he floats in the air, or the tiny blue hedgehog he just conjured up and ate? (He’s as observant as a rock, this one.)”

“It’s a genie!” Zaerini said, hastily speaking up before Anomen could get a word in. She didn’t have the energy to deal with another fight right now. “Gods…I’m sure tired of them by now. But I wonder what it’s doing here.”

“Something wicked, no doubt,” Jaheira said, watching the genie with suspicion. He was floating about outside one of the colorful tents erected right outside the Trademeet city wall, and he looked much like a large man, dressed in traditional Calimshite fashion, with a short red vest displaying his bare chest, puffy purple trousers with a wide red belt, and a turban on his head. As he noticed the adventurers watching him, he gave them a slow and lazy grin, something that made his dark and bearded face take on a rather sinister look. There seemed to be too many teeth for his face, for one thing, and they sparkled a bit more than seemed natural. 

“Maybe,” Rini agreed. “But I want to go see what he’s doing here. You never know, he might be able to tell us something about all those rabid animals.” As she approached, the genie gave her an amused look, snapped his fingers and immediately produced a golden monocle, then watched her through it, his eyes glittering with malicious interest. 

“What have we here?” he asked. “A little wayfarer, is it? Would you like me to turn you into something more amusing? A statue, perhaps? Or a golden figurine?” He chuckled to himself. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Edwina snarled, “or you’ll find yourself slammed into a magical bottle filled with troll snot, faster than you can say ‘Make a Wish’.”

The genie laughed out loud this time, his stomach bouncing up and down. “Ha ha! You are a strange one, mortal! You are... a female, are you not? I have not seen many of your kind.” He smiled suggestively at the wizard. Would you do a little dance for me, mortal? I do so love to watch your forms writhe! It does so remind me of the janni of home!”

“Oh yes, Edwina,” Anomen said, looking highly amused. “Won’t you ‘writhe’ a little for us? It should be most entertaining to watch.”

“There is this dance with seven veils,” Jan remarked, grinning. “But since we don’t have them, perhaps handkerchiefs will work just as well?”

Edwina had bright red spots in her cheeks by now, and she was practically spitting with fury. “Silence, you idiots! I will not perform for the pleasure of dull-witted bovines, chewing their own phlegm and regurgitating it as ‘humor’. (And any dancing here will be done by them, once I set their feet on fire.)” 

“Minsc and Boo will dance with the Evil Girl Wizard if she wants to,” Minsc said. “Minsc is very good at dancing, for he is strong enough to spin a girl around and around very fast. Boo must do the leading though, because Minsc isn’t that good at counting and remembering where his feet must go, and if I step on the feet of the ladies they get upset.” 

“She doesn’t want to dance, Minsc,” Rini said, and then gave Anomen a firm look. “And as for you…leave off. That was going too far.”

“But my lady…”

“And you,” the bard told Edwina, “can’t you just stop needling him for five minutes? Thank you.” _What am I ever going to do with them?_

_I have a few interesting ideas_ , Softpaws suggested. _But since you only want one mate I suppose you won’t want to try them. Anyway, you ought to make that clear to them, and soon. Males tend to fight over females they want, after all._

_Yes, I know…this whole business is really driving me up the wall. But Ano still hasn’t said anything openly…I think I’d better concentrate on Edwina for now. If I can work things out with her, and get it into the open, then I think the rest will fix itself._ “So,” she said to the genie. “What are you doing here, anyway?” 

The genie winked at her and smiled that uncomfortably too large smile again. “If you have business with us, mortal, you must speak to our Khan... oh, yes, I am sure he will be more than willing to deal with you!” He gestured magnanimously towards the interior of the tent and bowed. Rini shared a look with her friends. “Well,” she said. “Here we go, I suppose.” Then she ducked inside, and stopped just inside the opening, looking about her in wonder. 

She was immediately reminded of the illusionary castle that Kalah had created in the transformed circus. For one thing, the inside of the tent was far larger than the outside. And the walls, which should have been a rather garish purple cloth, were instead white marble, veined with pink. So was the floor, and there was a soft light shining out of it. It felt a bit like being inside a giant conch shell. There were soft and satiny pillows here and there on the floor, and gold and jewels sparkled from the interior of many half-open chests standing along the walls. _Probably that’s an illusion too. I wouldn’t be surprised._ The three genies floating in the air at the other end of the room she suspected were real though. They looked much like the one outside, though the one in the center was dressed in red, and had a large ruby decorating his turban and another on his belt. The other two wore blue and were slightly more modestly outfitted. 

“Careful,” Edwina whispered to her, touching her arm lightly. “Do not make any agreements with them without considering their words very carefully. Genies are very clever when it comes to twisting a deal, and they love nothing better than to fool mortals.”

“I’ll be careful,” the bard said, giving the other woman a brief smile. “And you’ll watch my back, won’t you?”

Something sparkled briefly in the wizard’s dark eyes, but her face remained serious. “Of course,” she simply said. “Always.” 

As Zaerini and her friends stepped closer, the leader of the genies beckoned them invitingly forwards, and as he did, the light intensified. “Greetings to you, wayfarer! I am Khan Zahraa of Calimshan, a Dao djinn, at your service!”

“Dao…” Edwina murmured, leaning in closely enough that her lips almost touched Rini’s ear. The feel of her breath and the closeness of her scent made the half-elf’s skin tingle in a highly distracting manner, and she had to concentrate hard not to get carried away. “They are from the elemental plane of Earth. I suspected as much when I saw the one outside. They have vast powers in that element.” 

“And I guess it’s not a good idea to annoy them?”

“Not unless you wish to end up as an earthworm, no. (Not that I would ever allow that, of course.)”

“What are Calimshite genies doing here in Trademeet?” Jaheira suspiciously asked. “I cannot imagine you are up to any good.” 

The Dao nodded, seeming not the least offended. “Yes, this does beg a question, mortal, does it not? The Dao would not normally choose to make such a place our home, even temporarily, indeed. Suffice it to say that we have come on a service, hunting a criminal of some repute from Calimshan... a rakshasa by the name of Ihtafeer.”

“A rakshasa!” Edwina exclaimed, sounding more like herself than Rini had heard her all day. It seemed that the discussion of strange creatures was perking her up a little. “I have read of those. A form of spirits, who take on humanoid form, but with animal-like traits. They are very adept at illusion spells, partially resistant to magic, can only be harmed by magical weapons and they enjoy the taste of human flesh. They take every opportunity to torment mortals they set their sights on.” 

“Very good, little mortal,” Khan Zahraa said, nodding. “This particular rakshasa we have hunted for months, for she has stolen something that I am…attached to. She must be punished for this effrontery, yet so far, she has eluded us. But we have a plan.” He laughed again, his eyes shimmering a dull orange for a few moments. “We Dao buy all that comes here, you see, and charge prices too high for the mortals to afford... and we will not relinquish it until the mortals find this rakshasa for us. Eventually, they shall run out of their food and such and they will become desperate enough to do it. Or not. Regardless, the hunt is less taxing and far more amusing this way, don't you agree?”

“Fiend!” Anomen cried out, his cheeks flushed with anger. “You make honest people starve and suffer for your own selfish purposes? Tell me why I should not smite you at once!” 

“You could,” the genie said. “If you desire to spend the rest of your life transformed into something humorous, such as a whale, or a crystal vase of pansies. It is your choice, oh impatient one!” 

“Genies are fond of that sort of thing, aren’t they?” Jan remarked, scratching his beard. “I actually have a half-genie in the family you know, my half-aunt Jeannie Jansen. She couldn’t turn herself into smoke though, like you folks can, only sludge, and it was always pretty messy. Anyway, she was good at turning things into other things, particularly griffins into thimbles, for some odd reason. Not very useful if you ask me, thimbles aren’t really that expensive. She got married to this fine fellow called Junior, nice man, big smile just like you have, and they were very happy for a while, especially since she told him stories every night. But then came the fatal day. Auntie Jeannie turned herself into sludge in order to relax some cramped muscles in her neck, and then Junior just pounced on her, spreading her all over the ground. He was really a thimble you see.” 

“A…thimble?” The genie sounded slightly disoriented. 

“Oh yes! A thimble that had turned itself into a griffin, for revenge, and then into a human to fool Auntie Jeannie. Perfectly simple. I’m afraid he treaded her into the carpet so badly that we could never get the stain out, and once she finally reassembled herself her mouth had wound up below her left ear, and her nose was upside down. That was what eventually killed her, she went out in the rain and accidentally drowned. So you see, if you keep turning things into other things, you may just find a thimble waiting for you some day.” 

Khan Zahraa was silent for a few moments, his mouth hanging open. Then he shook his head, clearly trying to gather his thoughts. “If you wish to hunt little Ihtafeer for us, mortals, then we will be happy to leave, and will even reward you. What say you?”

“I suppose we might try,” Rini slowly said. “It couldn’t hurt to keep an eye out for this rakshasa thing. Any idea about where to look?”

“No, little mortal. But she will be in hiding, probably disguised as one of your kind. Bring us back her head, if you do manage to kill her, and we will gift you with something useful.” 

“We’ll think about it,” the half-elf said. “Oh…and what was it she stole from you?”

“That, I will not say. It is my business, and my business alone. Concern yourself with the rakshasa, wayfarer. I will see you again only if you bring me her head, or if you wish to trade with us.” 

_So_ , Zaerini thought. _He doesn’t want to tell us, does he? Something tells me it could be a good idea to find out about it, all the same…_

-*-

“Hi! Are you an elf? You look a little bit like an elf, but different.”

Zaerini blinked at the small dark-haired boy who watched her curiously. He had been drawing in the dirt with a stick, it seemed, just outside the genie tent, and looked like he might be seven or so. “Hi yourself,” she said, smiling at the child. “I’m not an elf exactly, I’m a half-elf. Part elf, part human. And who might you be?”

“I’m Rinin!” the boy said. “I live around here…sort of. Why are your eyes that color?”

“Well…”

“I can do a trick! Wanna see?” The child stuck his tongue out, then wrenched his face into a hideous grimace. “See?” he said once he was back to normal. “Just like a troll!” 

“Very nice,” the bard said in a serious voice. “Here, I’ll show you something else.” Putting her hand behind his ear, she used a small sleight of hand trick, pretending to extricate a coin. “I can’t imagine you didn’t feel that in there,” she said, spinning the coin across her palm before flipping it to him. But since it was in there, it’s yours of course. Have fun!” 

“Wait!” Rinin called out. “Want to come home with me? I’m sure mother wants to see you. And you’ll want to see her too, she knows everything, and she can do magic, and tell the future!” 

“Surely we have more important things to do with our time?” Jaheira said, but in a low voice so the boy wouldn’t hear. 

“Maybe…” Zaerini said. “But I don’t think it could take all that long…and I want to see what he meant about telling the future.” She, too, had lowered her voice by now. “Perhaps it’s just a trick, but perhaps this woman really knows something, something to help me get better at interpreting my cards. It’s worth a try.” 

“And if it is a trick,” Jan cheerfully said, “then I have just the thing to deal with it.” He held up a twisted, purple bottle. “Would you look at what that genie outside the tent was carrying around, making an unsightly bulge in his pocket? I’m sure he’ll be very grateful that I helped him removed it, this way it won’t cause him an unsightly hernia or something. Can you imagine a genie with a hernia? Wonder if he’d swell like a balloon, just like my cousin Jiminy Jansen did after he accidentally ate the magical dough that a wizard had baked for his next clay golem? Poor Jiminy…he turned bright green, and afterwards everybody called him ‘The Incredible Bulk’. Made him really angry it did, some people have no patience at all.” 

“Jan!” Jaheira snapped. “What about that bottle?”

“This, my dear Jae? This would be a Genie-in-a-bottle, or actually, judging by what my divination spell told me, an Efreeti-in-a-bottle. Wonder why it’s always a bottle and not, say, a saltshaker or a jar?” 

“Actually,” Rini said, remembering her first memorable encounter with a djinn, “that reminds me of this madwoman we encountered near Firewine Bridge who carried about a genie in a jar…” 

Jan’s eyes lit up. “A story!” he exclaimed. “Go on, tell me all about it!”

“Do you ever get tired of stories?” Anomen asked. 

“Of course not, Ano! I may know a thousand and one of them, all of them true, but I’m always on the lookout for more. Have to vary myself in order to entertain my audience, after all. I wouldn’t want my friends to get annoyed with me. Did I tell you the one about the paladin and the Flesh Golem yet, by the way?”

Anomen groaned. 

Rinin’s home turned out to be a cluster of tents of different sizes, a short distance away from the Trademeet town wall. People moved among them, talking, sometimes laughing. Somewhere close by food was being cooked, and it smelled lovely, hot and spicy. All the people among the tents were similarly dressed, the men tending towards wide-brimmed hats, and impressive mustaches, the women wearing wide skirts, and while the young girls all had their hair braided, the mature women had theirs hidden by a scarf. Children ran here and there among the tents, playing. She passed a craftsman working on a silver necklace and marveled at its beauty. Hardly had she turned her head away before she was instantly distracted by the hauntingly beautiful and sad sound of a violin. “Rinin?” she asked, as the boy led her towards a dark blue tent, chattering excitedly all the time. “Who are your people?”

“We are Rom, young traveler,” a woman’s voice said from inside the tent. “And you are welcome among our tents, as long as you come as friends. I am Kveroslava.” Then the tent flap was pulled aside, and the owner of the voice emerged. She was a middle-aged woman, tall and a little bony in the body, with an elongated and vaguely horse-like face, dominated by a pair of dark and knowing eyes. Her wide skirts were blue, the same deep midnight blue of the tent, and had so many petticoats that they almost seemed to walk on their own. A few strands of black hair peeked from beneath her cream-colored scarf. As Rini briefly introduced herself and her friends, she noticed that the woman never took her eyes off her. It was just a little bit unnerving. 

The Rom, she learnt, after having been invited inside the tent and offered some very hot tea, normally lived deeper into the forest, moving around now and then. Yet now the forest had turned dark and dangerous. Wild animals attacked in ways they had not done before, large groups of them teaming up, deliberately seeking humans out. People had been killed, far too many of them, and then the Rom had fled, seeking the relative safety of the city. Unfortunately, Trademeet had not given them a warm welcome at all. “They accuse us of bringing the darkness of the wild with us,” Kveroslava explained, shaking her head with exasperation. “They accuse us of practicing evil magic, and rousing the animals against them, and of being in league with the druids.”

“What of these druids?” Jaheira asked. “I am of the druidic faith myself; it is my duty to seek the heart of this mystery out.” 

“There is a druid grove a little over one day’s journey from here,” Kveroslava said. “A wild but beautiful place, it is said, though I have never seen it with my own eyes. The druids have always co-existed peacefully with the city before – why this would suddenly cease I do not know, and I have been able to learn nothing of it.” 

“We should go there as soon as possible,” Jaheira said, turning to Zaerini. “There is no telling when the next attack might come.” 

“Maybe those stuffy guards will finally let us inside the town if we do something about the druids,” Jan suggested. Then he winked. “But if you prefer it, your Worship, this nimble gnome could always get across the wall and go on a little ‘shopping’ expedition first.” 

“It wouldn’t do any good,” Edwina said. “The genies, remember? The tradesmen of Trademeet will have nothing for you to steal. (Sometimes I wonder how these people would be able to survive without me pointing out the obvious. Probably they’d forget to keep breathing.)”

“Oh yes, thanks for that, Red! Sure you haven’t chosen the wrong path in life? You might have become a good thief, you know. I could teach you some…want to try getting this turnip out of my pocket?”

“I most certainly do not want to touch your turnip, you disgusting little root-vegetable fetishist!” 

Kveroslava briefly cleared her throat. “If you enjoy _konáfni_ , short one, then I have an excellent recipe for a soup containing both them, chicken and garlic. Let us discuss this later.”

“You like turnips?” Jan said, looking about ready to kiss the Rom woman’s feet. “Want to elope with me, oh uncommonly-wise-one?”

Kveroslava smiled briefly, her eyes glittering. “I am a wife and mother already, friend. I fear it is not to be. But I still hope you will aid me. The Rom would like to return to the forest. Are you intent on bringing this about?”

“For you, oh fair turnip-lover? Anything.” 

“Minsc and Boo are always ready to kick Evil’s Butt, wherever it tries to hide!” Minsc said, raising Boo to eye-level and stroking him adoringly. The hamster squeaked with satisfaction. “Minsc would rather not hurt any more poor animals though…that makes him sad, even if Boo says he had to.”

“If there is indeed some dark force corrupting this place, and not simply wild animals grown dangerous with hunger, then it is our solemn duty to banish the foulness in the name of Helm,” Anomen said in a very earnest voice. Rini noticed Edwina making a disgusted face and sighed inwardly. 

“I suppose we are,” she said. “I’d rather have had a promise from the Mayor first though, that he will pay us after it’s done. If they try to send us off with a pat on the back after risking our lives, then I won’t be happy. Jan, if you can really get us into the city unnoticed, then I think we should do that first. And then we can see about these druids.” 

“You will aid us too then,” Kveroslava said, her voice decisive. “If you can do this, we will be very grateful. And for now, I wish to offer what aid I can. I am not only the heart of this clan, the mother of the family…I am also a _drabarni_ , what you would call a teller of the future. If you wish, I will see what I can see about each one of you, and hopefully find something that may help you in days to come.” 

Zaerini looked at her friends. “I don’t know about the rest of you,” she said, “but I’m going for it.”

“You should go last though, young _drabarni_ ,” Kveroslava said, a small smile playing around her lips. “Yes, I can sense your power. Would you not sense a blazing fire if you sat down right next to it? But I can see that though you are very strong, you have had to learn on your own. If you wish, I will be happy to tell you about our gift, but it must be afterwards.” 

“Oh…” Rini said, feeling a little flustered under the Rom woman’s dark gaze. “All right. I’d like that. But why must I go last?”

“The currents of fate around a _drabarni_ are always strong. If I focus on them, they will distract me so that I cannot see your friends’ fates properly. Now then…who wishes to go first?” 

“Minsc and Boo will go first, to make certain it’s safe for their witch,” the ranger said, stepping in front of Zaerini. “Boo knows the future too; he says that anybody trying to harm Minsc’s witch will have a very short one.”

“Of that,” Kveroslava said, “I have no doubt, large one. Now hold out your hands…yes, both of them. The…Boo…can sit on your shoulder for a little while, can he not? Good. Now let me see.” She peered intently at the ranger’s palms for a little while, completely immobile, her body looking almost frozen in place. When she eventually spoke, her voice sounded hollow, and as if it was coming from very far away. “Your heart is as great as your body is strong, it will protect you well in the days ahead. Much you have lost, but there is goodness and compassion in your heart, and much love. You are wiser than you know, and more than you seem, as is your small companion.”

“Minsc knows this,” Minsc said. “Boo is a miniature giant space hamster, after all. But it was nice to say kind things all the same!” 

“The druid…” Kveroslava said, still in a trance, and she turned to Jaheira. “Teetering always on the edge, striving for balance. Your quest for equilibrium will become even more difficult in the days ahead. There will be choices to make, and if you choose wrong, then all is lost. A heavy responsibility rests on your shoulders, and it will not be lifted until you are granted forgiveness.” 

“Forgiveness?” Jaheira asked, scowling, but there was a hint of nervous tension in her voice. “Woman, what are you saying? I require no forgiveness; I have done nothing wrong.” 

“So you say, and so it may well be. But in your heart of hearts you yearn for it still, and that is why your hatred burns so brightly. Be warned, fierce lioness! Those flames may consume you yet, you must be on guard.”

Before Jaheira could respond, the fortuneteller turned her attention to Anomen, who watched her with some apprehension. “You strive for honor and goodness, young man. Yet there is also a darkness within you…and soon the time will come when you must face it, one way or another.” 

“I will always fight darkness, and conquer it,” Anomen said, a little stiffly. “My purpose is clear, and I will hold to my honor and righteous purpose.”

Kveroslava sighed, gently reaching out to touch his cheek. “So you may, though it is still unclear. But know this: You too have choices ahead of you, dark choices. If you fail, if you betray yourself and others for the sake of temptation, then you will lose the very thing you hope to win.”

Anomen looked deeply troubled by these ominous words, but he said nothing. 

“And you, turnip-lover!” Kveroslava told Jan, smiling kindly. “An old friend will soon return to your life. There will be sadness, but happiness as well, as long as you are loyal and true. And this will be important to your friends as well, for it is they who will find the way, and they will learn something that will be very important in days far ahead. The Hidden awaits, and if you aid him you will not regret it.” 

Edwina had crossed her arms across her chest and glared at Kveroslava. “If you tell me I will get married to a tall dark stranger, and make a journey across deep waters, then you will get a fireball up your nose, hostess or not! (Promises of power and fortune I will accept though.)”

Then she startled a little as Kveroslava took her hands, and spoke in that distant, echoing voice again. “Tall dark stranger?” the Rom woman said, chuckling in an eerie manner. “Why, you are quite right…though marriage is not an option to that one, and it was he who made the sea journey. Nor is he a stranger to you, at least not in the manner you think.” Her voice turned serious once more. “He is here.” 

“What?” Edwina said in a rather shrill voice, looking nervously into every dark corner of the tent. “What are you saying, you doddering old hag? Where? Tell me, at once!” 

“Not in this tent, accursed one. But closer than you think…he will find you soon, though you will not know it at first, and nor will he. Choose your words carefully when you do know him, young one, that is what advice I give you. Nobody can hurt us like the ones we love or forgive as much of us.” 

And now Zaerini faced the older fortune teller, and felt the other woman clasping her hands in hers. Those dark eyes in front of her seemed to be looking at something else entirely…and then there was a jolt, and she felt the world disappear around her.


	64. Hunt and Song

**Cards Reshuffled 64 – Hunt and Song**

_You might think that the worst thing that can happen to you is to lose somebody you love. Well, it isn’t. What is worse is being forced to bring about that loss yourself. And I hope you never have to experience the truth of that for yourself._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

The Cat shook herself briefly, straining her ears to hear the receding sound of Kveroslava’s voice behind her. _Te bisterdon tumare anava. Pretera…Ruv… 1)_

She couldn’t quite remember how she had got here, or where here was. She couldn’t quite remember who she was. There were faces floating at the back of her head, coupled with sounds and scents, but the names were all gone, as was her own. Still, it did not frighten her. _I am me. That I know, and that is what matters. I will remember when I have to._ She looked herself over. Yes, she was as she should be, her muscles strong, her red fur sleek and shiny, and every hair in its proper place. Very good. Now to see where she was. 

The Cat cocked her head curiously to one side, inspecting her surroundings. She was standing in the middle of a dark city street, with houses rising high on either side. She wrinkled her nose a little as she neatly stepped around a grimy puddle, wanting to avoid getting her fur wet. Interesting smells were all around, and she thought she could hear a faint stirring ahead. _Mice? Or rats? I’m hungry…and I’d like to play some._ And then she hissed violently, her fur rising all along her back to make her look twice as big, her claws extending as she raised one paw towards the beast ahead of her. 

A large black wolf had suddenly stepped out of the shadows, right in front of her, and was looking down at her, eyes narrowed and tail high. The Wolf seemed immensely big next to her; his head larger than her entire body. Not that she intended to let that hinder her. _Don’t try anything, or I’ll scratch your eyes out and kill you!_ The words came out accompanied by a multitude of snarls and spitting hisses. 

The Wolf watched her for a few moments, looking faintly amused. Then he sat down, curling his bushy tail around his paws. _Oh, that was very frightening indeed. Watch me quiver with fear._ He yawned, displaying a vast forest of white and very sharp teeth before his jaws snapped shut again with an audible, bone crunching click. _In a moment, that is. Right now I’m too paralyzed with terror, I think._

The Cat licked her nose briefly, feeling both annoyed and slightly embarrassed. _I’m not afraid of you!_ She stated this with all the force she could muster. _Not one bit._

_Lovely. I’m so happy for your sake._

_Arrrgh! You don’t believe me, do you? Well, I’m not! And I’ll prove it to you, right now._ Before she had the time to think about what she was doing, she stepped over to the Wolf, and then rubbed herself carefully against the larger animal’s legs. _Ha! Told you so!_

_And just what was the purpose of that little exercise?_

The cat tilted her whiskers into a proud smirk. _I just scent-marked you. That means I own you now. Nyah nyah._

For a moment she feared that she might have gone too far, as the Wolf suddenly sprang to his feet, an ominous growl rumbling deep in his throat as he lowered his head towards her. Those teeth were very big… _Nobody owns me, little pest. Nobody. I am not some prancing puppy. Do I make myself perfectly clear?_

_All right, all right! Nobody owns you. Sheesh._

_Good._ The Wolf sat down again, his voice once again calm. _So you are capable of paying attention after all, I’m happy to see it._

_Pffft._ A mischievous thought entered her mind, and she flicked her tail rapidly back and forth. _If I can’t own you, can I at least borrow you? I think you’d make a nice warm pillow to sleep on._

The Wolf snorted loudly, but this time he didn’t sound angry. _Be very happy that we have more important things to do than bickering, or I might just decide to scent-mark_ you, _and you would not enjoy that._

_Things to do? What? And who are you, anyway?_

_I…am not certain._ The Wolf’s black fur rippled a little along his back, as if in annoyance or frustration. _I cannot remember. All I know is that I was suddenly here, and I don’t know where I was before. But I know there are things we need to do before the night is over. Can you not feel the scent?_

She carefully sniffed the air, and then the ground as well. And yes…there it was. A tantalizingly familiar scent, that beckoned her forward. _What is it? It’s wonderful!_

_I do not know, and that’s annoying, because I should know. But I mean to go find out. Are you coming or not?_

The Cat thought about this for a moment. _All right. I’m coming._

_Very good. Then let us hunt._

They ran then, following the scent, and the Cat was relieved to notice that the Wolf kept the pace slow enough that she, with her shorter legs, was still able to keep up. Still, it was a bit tiresome. _I don’t suppose you’d consider letting me ride on your back?_

The Wolf sent her a cool look across his shoulder. _No._ He opened his mouth in a grin, displaying an inordinate number of teeth. _But if you are that exhausted, I could carry you in my mouth._

_I can manage._

_Good. Just let me know if you change your mind…_

Having tracked the scent through the dark streets for a while, they eventually came to a place where the shadows were darker, and the grass was damp beneath the tall tombstones. A vague sense of unease came upon her, and she hunched down, moving as quietly as she could. There was something here, something dangerous. _Can you sense it too?_

_Yes._ The Wolf had slowed down too, practically creeping along the ground, his ears swiveling here and there as he listened for danger. _It is close._ He stopped, briefly touching his nose against her forehead. _You do not have to go on if you don’t want to._

_Yes. Yes, I do. We are both needed, I think._ She carefully sniffed the larger animal, noticing for the first time that his scent was oddly similar to the one they were tracking. Not identical, but still there was something she recognized. 

Having followed the scent to a large door, the two animals found themselves stumped for a moment, until the Cat leapt up, pushing down the handle. _See? Told you that you’d need me._

_Yes, fine_ , the Wolf replied, sounding a little testy. _Normally I would be perfectly able to…_ He trailed off, looking a bit confused. 

_What?_

_I don’t know. For a moment I thought I remembered something…being different. But it is gone again._ He growled quietly. Not at her, but she still instinctively took a step back, her claws itching. _Somebody has made us forget…and I don’t like people interfering with me. Not at all._

They descended then, quietly picking their way through the dark tunnels that led deeper and deeper into the ground. Eventually they emerged into a large chamber, one that smelled of cool dust and old blood. There were brown stains on the floor…but there were also fresher drops, and those…those were intermingled with the scent they were tracking. The Cat hissed again, baring her teeth, and as she looked up, she could see the Wolf practically vibrating with quiet rage. 

_They have hurt him!_

_Yes…they have. And they will pay for that._ With that, the black wolf set off at a quicker pace than before, and she followed, heading down yet more stairs. There was more blood here…not a lot, but enough that it stung her nostrils, burning like fire in her brain. _Blood. His blood._ She wanted to screech, to snarl, to claw out the brain on whoever had dared to harm him. Him…who was he? Her memory was still fuzzy, but the emotion was there, and true. She would learn. 

The vampires fell upon them as they entered the final room, a round chamber with several pools of deep, red blood. Pale creatures the vampires were, with claws and fangs of their own, and their eyes were flat and cold. One of them, a female, laughed at the approach of the two animals, baring her fangs. “You come too late!” she mocked. “He is mine now, and you cannot bring him back!” And there was another shape…deep within the shadows, almost out of sight, laughing too. She couldn’t see its face, but she saw something else. 

There was a body, lying on a stone slab in the middle of the room, cold and lifeless as the stone itself. There was blood too…too much blood, almost drowning out the scent she had been following. The scent of him. Her…mate. The mocking laughter rang in her ears, and then she screamed with rage, leaping for the face of the vampire closest to her. 

She fought with total abandon, heedless of the danger to herself, her only thoughts those of death and of blood, still screaming with fury and pain. Vaguely she was aware of the Wolf fighting next to her, fighting silently as a ghost, scattering blood and undead flesh about as he tore through the vampires. His black fur was already wet with equally dark blood, most of it belonging to the vampires, and his jowls were dripping with it. He sprang for another vampire, driving it to the floor and ripping its throat out. As he raised his head, she briefly met his eyes, and saw them burning with the same desperate loss that she sensed in herself. Close to insanity, it was. 

_They hurt him!_

_Killed him…_

_Killed?_

_Yes. Killed…killed._

_Then we…_

_Came too late…this time, too late…let him down…_

_Mate…_

_Cub…_

_No! NO! They will pay! They must pay! I want them dead…all dead…_

_Slay them. Slay them all. And this time…no clean kills. I’ll make them know pain._

The moment was over, and the fight was on again. This time, something was…different. With every stroke of her claws, every bite of her teeth, she felt herself growing…changing. Now she was much larger…her claws no longer as pretty, but much stronger. One swipe sent a vampire’s head spinning across the floor, and as she laughed it came out as a strong roar. The blood was in her mouth, in her throat…and it was good. Oh, so good. This was what she wanted right now, more than anything else in the world. _Blood. Their blood. Their pain. Their death._

And then…it was suddenly over. She paused above the body of the vampire she had been fighting and noticed that all was silent. They were dead or fallen, all of them. But…so was he. Wasn’t he? 

The body on the slab moved, pale hands jerking awkwardly as what had once been human sat up, staring with dull, lifeless eyes. There was pain behind them…pain and captivity. He would be forced to fight them, she knew that now, and now she could hear the laughter of the head vampire again, from behind. So she yet lived…and now she would make him kill them. Or make them kill him. She didn’t know which was worse. 

Feeling hopeless despair rising within, she raised her claws, trying to keep him at a distance without having to harm him. The Wolf was standing at her side, shoulder to shoulder, and she could sense the same emotion from him, the knowledge of a battle lost before it was even begun. 

He was moving forward now, slowly but certainly. “Kill me…please…” The words were a mere whisper, but she could clearly hear them. “Please…it hurts…please make it stop.” 

_No…no…it isn’t fair. Don’t make us do this…it will destroy us._ She screamed again, a cry of mingled pain, loss and anger. As she felt the world receding around her, fading to blackness, the last thing she could hear was the tormented howl of the Wolf, and she knew beyond certainty that in this they were one.

-*- 

Far away, in the Government District of Athkatla, Aerie was alone in her bedroom, and she was singing. The afternoon sun was streaming in through the open window, making her blonde locks glow like a river of gold, and her blue eyes were wide with delight as she watched the tiny blue bird that had hopped onto the windowsill. It was a small bird, small enough that it could easily fit even within her tiny palm, the clear blue of a summer sky, and it was trilling excitedly. The little black eyes radiated love as they watched the singing Avariel, whose pure and pristine white dress made her appear the very picture of innocence. Eventually it couldn’t resist any longer, but carefully hopped onto the pink little finger extended towards it. 

Aerie raised her hand towards herself, cooing delightedly at the little blue bird, and then she resumed her song, with the bird trilling in accompaniment now and then. Her song sounded incredibly sweet, and charmingly innocent and cheerful. It was lucky, she decided, that she had placed a sound charm on her chambers, so that nobody except for her could hear the actual lyrics, even if they happened to speak elven. 

_Your skin so white, so soft and pure  
I’ll peel it slowly, you’ll endure  
For death is fast, but pain is slow,  
And fa-la-la-ley, pain comes your way,  
Hey nonny nonny, watch me go  
And fa-la-la-ley, pain comes your way,  
Hey nonny nonny, watch me go_

_Your eyes so blue, they suit you too,  
I’ll pluck them out and sip the goo,  
For death is fast, but pain is slow,  
And fa-la-la-la-ley, meet pain this day,  
Hey nonny nonny, watch me go  
And fa-la-la-ley, pain comes your way,  
Hey nonny nonny, watch me go_

Aerie giggled to herself, gently stroking the soft feathers of the little bird, and then went on. 

_Your tongue so red, to rest is laid,  
With pincers ripped out of your head,  
For death is fast, but pain is slow,  
And fa-la-la-la-ley, greet pain, I say,  
Hey nonny nonny, watch me go  
And fa-la-la-ley, pain comes your way,  
Hey nonny nonny, watch me go_

The bird trilled curiously at Aerie. She smiled, tickling it on the chest, and it delightedly pressed itself against her finger. 

_Your heart so kind, I’ll leave behind,  
Within a silver bowl to grind,  
For death is fast, but pain is slow,  
And fa-la-la-la-ley, pain gets its way,  
Hey nonny nonny, watch me go  
And fa-la-la-ley, pain comes your way,  
Hey nonny nonny, watch me go_

The bird was sitting on Aerie’s palm now, close enough to her face that she could almost kiss it, singing until it seemed its little heart was about to burst. Aerie’s smile widened a little as she launched into the final verse. 

_Your soul I’ll keep, and hear it weep,  
And never will I let it sleep,  
For death is fast, but pain is slow,  
And fa-la-la-la-ley, this is pain’s day  
Hey nonny nonny, watch me go  
And fa-la-la-ley, pain comes your way,  
Hey nonny nonny, watch me go_

The bird’s happy soprano song was brutally cut off with a surprised squeak as the Avariel rapidly clenched her fist shut. The smile never left her face as the little bones cracked and crunched, or as the blood spurted out over her hand. She was careful not to let it get on her dress though; bloodstains were a nightmare to get out. _Good_ , Aerie thought as she deposited the tiny corpse in the small and bubbling cauldron that was standing on the hearth. _Bluebird bones are perfect for the nail strengthening potion…and I do want to look my best once the time for the masquerade comes. Not to mention that I can’t stand their annoying noises._

Things were certainly looking up, she decided. Lord Logum and his friends were eating out of her hands, and Lady Jysstev would trust her with her life. The noblewoman had apparently contacted ‘The Hidden’ and a meeting would take place at a grand masquerade ball that the Jysstevs would arrange. _How very suitable, given my own fondness for the theatre, and the illusionary skills of the one I am to meet._ And then, once contact had been established and a working partnership had been ensured, her power would be increased tenfold and she would practically have an army of thralls obeying her every whim. _Soon…yes, soon I will be ready. Very soon._

As Aerie gently stirred her cauldron, she smiled to herself, and soon she started singing again. As before the sound was very lovely – as long as you couldn’t hear the actual words. 

-*-

Elsewhere, somebody else was also listening to birdsong, very much against his will. Normally, Valygar Corthala quite liked birds. It was sort of part of being a ranger – you liked trees, flowers, animals, birds, even insects. Well, perhaps not mosquitoes. It was hard to imagine a ranger who had a mosquito as his or her faithful companion animal. Possibly as his sworn enemy, Valygar mused and scratched a particularly nasty bite on his ankle. They always seemed to bite where it would itch the most. It wouldn’t surprise him if they did it on purpose. As for the birds, though he normally liked them, he wished they could be kind enough to keep the noise level down on a day such as this one, which was basically the day after a night like _that_ one. 

The ranger groaned quietly as a particularly loud bird did its best to drill its way through his brain using sound alone. He normally didn’t drink much at all. However, yesterday had been that day. _The anniversary. And not just any anniversary either. After all, how many people get to celebrate the day they murdered both their parents?_ Well, perhaps ‘celebrate’ wasn’t entirely the right word, unless you took it to mean ‘getting drunk enough to practically be unconscious, crying yourself to sleep in a puddle of beer, and then waking up in another, far more stinky puddle’. Good thing there was a fresh spring close by the cabin…but he was still pretty smelly. Not that anybody but himself was likely to notice of course. This was after all a lonely cabin deep within the Umar Hills forest, it wasn’t the sort of place people just stumbled upon, which was exactly how Valygar preferred it. 

Once again, Valygar groaned, his strong dark fingers gently massaging his temples. Those birds were really tiresome. He’d come out to sit on the porch of the cabin for a while, feeling the need for fresh air, but now he was beginning to wonder if perhaps he’d made a mistake. On the other hand, his legs felt a bit too wobbly for walking at the moment. _Of course, if my mother were still alive, she’d probably just blast the entire tree to pieces…with every single bird. Mages. Rotten, the lot of them. Rotten to the core. Well, when she was done with him, father was rotten on the outside too…_

How had it come to this, Valygar wondered? The once so proud Corthala line, now reduced to a hung-over loner hiding in a cabin, not to mention smelling of old puke? _At least that means the curse will die with me. Even if it wasn’t for my vow of celibacy, I doubt any woman would want to come close to me at the moment._ He grunted as a particularly inconsiderate sunbeam stung his eyes. Well, he might not look like much, but he was alive at least, not a mean feat when the Cowled Wizards were after you. He knew that he was very lucky they hadn’t found him yet, considering how anxious they were to get their hands on him…or rather, on part of him. 

_If I worshipped any god whatsoever, then I would probably be praying right now. Not that they’d do anything about it, the useless bastards. It’s not as if they did anything for mother, when she was falling deeper and deeper into insanity, the magic taking her over. It’s not as if they did anything for father, when he wasted away and died, and when she brought him back in her madness, a shuffling ghoul. It’s not as if they did anything for the child that was there, watching it all, helpless to do anything. Helpless, until the day came when I was strong enough to free them both of the madness, to slay them both, even as I wept. No, I will not start flattering any gods now, not at my age. I will live or die on my own, without their interference. That I swear. And I will never touch magic, that it may not corrupt me. I will never father a child, that the curse of the Corthalas does not spread. And above all, I will kill Lavok the Necromancer, for bringing this doom upon his family, the doom of magic and madness._

Repeating his vow, as he did every night and morning, made Valygar feel a little better, and the glazed look in his bloodshot brown eyes was replaced with their usual stoicism. _I will continue to exist, for a while longer. Until Lavok the Necromancer is mine. I will sheathe my sword deep within his foul body, and vengeance for my family will be mine._

Wearily he remembered how his recent troubles had begun, only a few weeks ago. He had known, the moment that the Planar Sphere appeared in the slums of Athkatla, looking like an enormous steel marble that had somehow managed to wedge itself inside and through several buildings. He had known in an instant, for something about the Sphere called out to him, through the blood he shared with his distant ancestor, Lavok. The Sphere sang in his dreams, disturbing his rest, it pulled at him as a magnet pulls at iron shavings. He would find himself walking down a street, and then suddenly turning into another, completely involuntarily, a street that would take him to the Sphere. He would suddenly break off in the middle of an action, only to find his head slowly turning in a particular direction, the direction of the Sphere. One morning, he had been sitting down to breakfast, and suddenly he had blinked, realizing that half an hour had passed and that he had sculpted a Sphere out of his breakfast porridge. Poor Hervor…no doubt his faithful manservant thought that Lord Corthala had finally gone insane, just as all his forefathers before him. More than once Valygar had thought the same. 

Then, of course, rumor had reached him, and he had heard about the Sphere’s arrival, and had known what was going on. His first impulse had been to storm the place, demanding entrance, and then tearing his ancestor’s black heart from his body, assuming he still had a heart. But he had soon thought better of it. He must kill Lavok, yes, and break the curse. But he couldn’t afford to rush, he couldn’t afford to fail. There would be no Corthala after him to take up his sword, and that meant he had to do things right. 

And so, he had begun to prepare, to gather what funds he had to get proper equipment, to search for companions willing to aid him in his task. Unfortunately, he had not got very far before they had come for him. The Cowled Wizards. Valygar spat at the ground at the mere thought of the gray-clad mages. They had wished for him to grant them entrance to the sphere. Apparently, they had already learnt that they couldn’t get in on their own, that only Corthala blood was allowed to open the door, and now they had sought him out, to be used as their key. 

He had refused. There had never been any question about it. Powerful the Cowled Wizards might be, yes, but that only made them all the greater foes. They were mages, with all that that meant. Dangerous. Untrustworthy. Greedy. Hungry for the power of the Sphere. He had told them that he would die rather than open the Sphere for them, and they had laughed and told him that that was always an option. They only needed his flesh and blood after all…they didn’t need him to be alive. 

So, he had fought, and he had been swift enough that he managed to take them by surprise, killing both of the pair who had come for him. Then he had fled, knowing that the Cowled Wizards would soon come after him. If not for revenge, then to take him for their own, to use his body as a means of entrance to power. This cabin was far enough out in the woods that he should be reasonably safe though. Hopefully. And he didn’t have big demands on comfort, the plain cabin suited him very well. And it was certainly nice to be in close contact with nature, having lived in the city for some time now. Yes. Very, very nice. Except for the mosquitoes of course. 

A happy, multi-throated trill made Valygar wince as he experienced the sensation of red-hot needles being jammed into his eyes. _All right. Except for the mosquitoes and the birds._ Briefly, oh so very briefly, he regretted not having chosen any patron god for himself. _A spell of silence…how I wish I could cast a spell of silence…_ Then he gulped, catching himself, and hastily shook his head to drive the thought away, ignoring the pain. _No. No magic. Absolutely no magic, ever. Ever. Not even for this._ Groaning, he wondered how it was that everybody he ever met, be it man or beast, seemed so determined to be noisy and tiresome. _Silence. I just want some silence. Is that really so much to ask for? Some silence and peace._ And then he sighed, looking down at the dirt between his feet, and at the shape that his bare feet had formed there, in the loose soil. A rough, but still recognizable Sphere. 

_1) May your names be forgotten…Wildcat…Wolf…_


	65. Dull Druid

**Cards Reshuffled 65 – Dull Druid**

_All in all, there are worse fates than having a personality that aggravates certain people. Having no personality at all, for example._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Minsc was happy to be going out in the woods again soon. While there was much Evil to be fought in the city, he always felt especially good when there were trees all around, and flowers on the ground, and cute little squirrels hopping about everywhere. And in the forest, he could let Boo run about and play, with no risk of anybody stepping on him. There were the wild animals to think of, on the other hand. Once, when he was still traveling with Dynaheir, Boo had chased a poor bear up a tree so that it was afraid to come down, despite Minsc calling out to it in his most soothing voice. He privately resolved to make certain Boo didn’t scare any other poor animals on this trip. 

But first, his Witch meant to go into the city, to speak to the mayor. Minsc thought this was a good idea. His Witch needed something to do. She had seemed very upset when the nice lady had told her fortune. Minsc wasn’t certain why. His own fortune had been nice, but his Witch wouldn’t tell anybody what she had been told. She just said that she couldn’t remember much, except that it wasn’t nice. Boo said that she was telling the truth, and that it would be better to leave her alone. Minsc had agreed, but he wasn’t happy about it. If his Witch was upset, he wanted to help. 

And right now, he meant to help by coming along into the city, even though Boo was having much fun playing with the little boy who had taken them to see the nice fortune telling lady. 

“There we are!” Jan said as he cast his final spell. “All of us safe and sound now.” 

“If not soundproof…” Anomen muttered. “I could have done without that ridiculous story about the Invisible Man and the Invisible Woman, and especially without the sound effects.” 

“Ah, but Ano, I thought you might benefit from it, help you adjust, sort of thing!”

“We won’t stay invisible forever, Jan,” Zaerini’s voice said from close to Minsc’s right. “Only for as long as we need to get inside the town and find the Mayor. Now then…everybody ready?”

Minsc looked at himself, which was very funny, because he couldn’t see himself at all. He couldn’t even see Boo, but he could feel the hamster sitting securely on his shoulder, so that was all right, and Boo told him that he shouldn’t worry, because Giant Miniature Space Hamsters were quite used to people not seeing them for what they were. “Minsc is ready!” he said, and from the sheath on his back Lilarcor piped up. “Oooooh YEAH!” the sword screamed. “Covert operations…that’s my specialty! Quietly, quietly…and then WE’LL RUN SCREAMING AT’EM AND CHOP ALL THEIR HEADS OFF! IN SPRAYS OF BLOOD! BLOOOOOOD!” 

There were assorted yelps and startled movements from all around, and then Jaheira’s sharp voice rang out. “If that sword does not keep whatever passes for its mouth shut, then I shall bury it in rock.” 

“So that only the one worthy to be King can pull me out?” Lilarcor asked. “Yeah…I like that!” 

“No, I meant bury you under a landslide, so that only those well versed in archeology can pull you out, in about a thousand years or so. Now be quiet.”

“Minsc is sorry,” Minsc apologized. “Lilarcor, you be a good sword now, and be really quiet and sneaky, just like Minsc and Boo showed you.” 

“That’s it,” Edwina muttered. “We’re all doomed.” 

“Now you’re starting to sound like Xan,” Zaerini said. “Everything will be fine. All right, each one of you take the hands of two of the others now. Since we’re all invisible, we don’t want anybody to get lost.” 

Minsc immediately reached out his hands and grasped two others. One belonged to his Witch, of that he was certain. The other was female too…and since there were no calluses from fighting, it had to belong to…

“Ow!” Edwina said. “Stop squashing my hand, you great big lug! How am I supposed to summon my devastating magic if you break all my fingers? Using my left foot? (And who is this holding my other hand…please tell me it isn’t…)”

“Minsc promises to be careful,” Minsc said. “And he will make certain the Evil Girl Wizard doesn’t get lost or does any naughty things. Little Rini wouldn’t like that.” 

“My lady…” Anomen said, sounding suddenly ill. “Please tell me it is your dainty hand I am holding in mine, and not…” 

“No, I’m between Minsc and Jaheira,” Zaerini said. 

“But…Helm’s Beard! No! Please, no! My lady, I would do just about anything you requested of me…but to hold hands with that creature? Her foulness is bound to smear my soul.”

“You don’t think I enjoy it, do you?” Edwina snarled. “I shall have to disinfect my hand when we’re done, to rid myself of the stench, probably chapping my skin in the process. (Holding hands with a squire of the Order…and without any social graces whatsoever at that…can things get more humiliating?)”

“Oh, stop griping,” Zaerini said. “We need to get into the city unseen, and this is the best way. Just behave, would you?” 

“Chin up, Ano!” Jan said. “I’m holding your other hand, after all…no need to fear, the gnome is here!” 

Anomen groaned. 

With the group entirely invisible, getting past the guards at the gate proved an easy task. Fortunately, it was evening, and most of the townspeople were inside, which meant less risk of somebody raising the alarm after bumping into invisible people. Minsc thought that Trademeet was a very pretty city, much prettier than Athkatla. The houses were neat and painted in bright colors, and the streets were decorated with colorful rocks forming different patterns, and had beautiful lanterns lighting the way. In the round main square, there was a sparkling fountain, and Minsc felt tempted to let Boo swim a little, but he knew that following his Witch was more important. Perhaps later. 

Eventually, they reached the Mayor’s house, a large and wealthy looking one, despite Anomen and Edwina taking every opportunity to kick each other, or trip each other up, and then blaming it all on being invisible. 

“The shiny priest and the Evil Girl Wizard must stay silent,” Minsc eventually told them, using his firmest voice. “Minsc’s Witch said so, and they must obey. You both must be good and stay quiet like Minsc and Boo, and walk properly, or Minsc will carry you both like little children too young to walk on their own.” Boo squeaked his agreement. 

“Thank you, Minsc,” Zaerini said, sighing with relief. “I think that pretty much says it all. Jan, the door is all yours.” 

While the priest and the wizard both stayed sullenly silent, Jan worked on the lock, and it didn’t take him long to get it open. The party slipped inside, and presently they noticed a glimmer of light coming from beneath a closed door to the right of the hallway they had first entered. As Zaerini quietly crossed over to the door and pulled it open, Minsc followed, determined to stay close to his Witch. A gray-haired man was sitting at a large desk inside the room, his head bowed over some papers. Now and then he would sigh or rub at his eyes. Minsc thought he looked both tired and unhappy, and first thought of offering his help, but then remembered about staying really silent and quiet. Unfortunately, Lilarcor didn’t. 

“Murder, death, kill!” the sword screamed in its loudest voice as it became aware of the man. “MURDER, DEATH, KIIIIIILLLL!” 

“Be quiet, naughty sword!” Minsc shouted. “Be quiet and dis-creet, just like Minsc! That means no shouting, no screaming, and no killing of the nice man.” 

The nice man in question had jumped to his feet with an oath, and now he was looking rather wild-eyed as the party materialized all around him. “I don’t know who you are,” he said, “but I will sell my life dearly!” 

“Whoa, whoa!” Zaerini exclaimed, holding up her hands in the air. “We don’t want to fight you…we just want to talk about this druid problem of yours.”

“And that is why you sneak into my home in the middle of the night? How do I know you aren’t assassins?”

“If we were, would we be standing around here talking to you?” The bard frowned, raking a hand through her red hair. “Come to think of it…that Nimbul fellow probably would have. So would that Harper assassin that we ate…I mean met.” She smiled brightly. “But if we were any _good_ at being assassins, I’m sure we wouldn’t, so you’re safe either way, see? Either we’re not assassins, or we’re really bad ones.” 

The man looked more confused than ever. “That…makes some sense,” he said. “Very well. I am the High Merchant of Trademeet, Lord Logan. Who are you, and what is it that you wish of me?” 

Explaining that took a few minutes, but then the High Merchant visibly calmed down. Then he started explaining too, and Minsc did his best to keep up, being eager to help. The druids outside the town had been nice before, and so had the animals of the forest, but now the druids had turned Evil, and were attacking the town, using the poor little animals to help. This Minsc knew from before, and it still made him angry. But there was new news as well. The people in the town had caught one of the Evil Druids and were holding him captive in one of the cells in the very house where Minsc now stood. This was all well and good, but then it got confusing, because the High Merchant wasn’t certain that the druid was Evil at all. 

“Then why is the druid in a cell?” Minsc asked, frowning. “If he is not Evil, then it is wrong to have him locked up, he should be let out to run free through the hills like a hamster!” 

Lord Logan sighed. ”I truly wish that I could,” he said. “I do not believe he is guilty, but if I release him now, he will be in danger from the townspeople. I do not even trust all my guards to protect him, sorry as I am to have to say it. No, I dare not let him go…unless…” 

“Yes?” Edwina asked. “No doubt you are about to commission us for some ridiculously dangerous and underpaid mission or other. (Not that I blame him, who wouldn’t want my kind of genius working for him rather than against him?)”

“I wonder if you might consider escorting him to the Druid Grove,” Lord Logan said. “He claims he will help deal with the druids if he can only go there. Will you do that for me? I would be very grateful.”

Zaerini shrugged. “I suppose it can’t hurt to talk to him,” she said. “But if we do help with this, we will expect to get paid for it. Gratitude is all well and good, but it won’t pay any bills…and my best friend is in deep trouble you see. I’ll need a large sum to get her out of it.” 

“That can be arranged, I am certain. Especially if you can also do something about the genies who have started monopolizing the trade here…” 

The bard smiled. “Excellent. Let’s talk deal then. And then you can take us to meet his druid of yours. I have to admit, you’ve made me rather curious about him.” 

“Yes!” Minsc agreed. “We must let Boo take a look at him, to see if he is Evil or not! Boo’s nose knows best. He will sniff out the truth, and burrow it out, and then he will take it in his mighty hamster teeth and shake it free of all Evil Lies.” 

“Yes…” Zaerini said. “That sums it up pretty well, I guess.” 

“Minsc is good with voc-ab-ulary. Or rather Boo is, but he is kind to share his wisdom with Minsc. Should Minsc and Boo still be quiet and make no noise? If so, Minsc will gag noisy sword.” 

“Hey!” Lilarcor sputtered. “I resent that, meathead! I’m not just a kitchen knife you know, I’m a sentient sword, one who once was a moonblade and…” 

“Yes,” Zaerini said, her voice greatly determined. “Please do.” 

-*-

A short while later, Zaerini blinked, trying to concentrate on the face of the druid sitting cross-legged on the floor of the small cell that Lord Logan’s guard had escorted her to. He looked to be in his forties or so…with long, graying hair that framed a curiously unlined face. It was a fairly pleasant face, but there was something odd about it…as if it had been painted on. It was far too smooth, far too unconcerned, almost as if it belonged to a wooden puppet rather than a real person. The druid had braided some feathers and beads into his hair, and at the moment he seemed to be chatting with a small mouse, that had a glazed look in its tiny eyes. As Rini and her friends approached, the man looked up, and the mouse squeaked with relief and darted away. 

“Hello and well met to you,” he said, in a pleasantly bland voice that suited his pleasantly bland face perfectly. “I am Cernd, though my identity is surely no secret after the fuss I have caused here.”

“Ah…hello,” the half-elf responded, frantically trying to recall the man’s name. _He mentioned it only a few seconds ago…how come I can’t remember it?_

“You look pleasant enough; are you friends of that charming Lord Logan?” asked Whatever-his-name-was. “I've made very few friends among the merchants.”

“Lord Logan asked us to escort you to the Druid Grove,” Jaheira said, focusing intently on…on…the anonymous druid. “I am Jaheira, a druid like yourself, and intent on finding out the truth behind these animal attacks. Tell me…er…brother in Nature…what have you learnt?”

The man nodded. _The man? Didn’t he mention his name? I could have sworn…who is he anyway?_ “I am Cernd, as I said, sent from the north to investigate why the druid order of this region has severed its ties with the traditional hierarchy.” _Cernd! Yes! That was it…Cernd…um…what was that again?_ “It is not unheard of,” the druid went on, “but the attacks have me worried. It can only lead to greater evils; these people will eventually strike out as an animal cornered.”

_He’s incredibly boring, isn’t he?_ Softpaws yawned, jumping into Zaerini’s arms. The cat twisted about until she found a comfortable position, and then closed her eyes. _Wake me up when he’s stopped, would you, kitten?_

_When who’s stopped…oh…him…what was his name again?_

Jaheira shook her head, as if trying to clear it. “I know many druids in this region, and they would not support such actions without due cause. I suspect that there has been a change in leadership here.”

The…man…nodded, and his voice took on a throbbing note. “It is the duty of any druid to find this new leader and ascertain if this is for the best of nature. The attacks on the merchants only serve to alarm me. I might succeed alone, but I would much rather have the backing of a group, one that will also benefit from my service. After all, together a flock of ravens may drive the fiercest of eagles off. Are you up for the task?”

Rini blinked, suddenly realizing that the odd fellow seemed to be addressing her, for whatever reason, and she shook herself out of the trance-like state into which his voice had sent her. Minsc had dropped onto the floor and was snoring loudly. Jaheira was watching her expectantly. _She’s actually letting me handle this without telling me what I should do? Wow…_ Jan was staring at the…druid, wasn’t it…with something approaching fascination on his face. Anomen was slumped against the wall, his eyes closed, and Edwina was resting her head against his shoulder, deeply asleep. But right now, she was supposed to answer something…something about druids. 

“We’re going to the druid grove anyway,” she slowly said. “I suppose you might as well come with us.” _Perhaps he can put the wild animals to sleep._

“Excellent!” the man said, getting to his feet. “Let us make haste then. We must be like the rolling stone that gathers no moss…and hurry to the Druid Grove lest the nuts fall before we shake the tree. I am certain you shall be good traveling companions, as close to me as the great oak is to the mistletoe.” 

_He’s a parasite? Doesn’t sound too promising._ “Right,” Zaerini said, rubbing at her eyes. “To the Druid Grove it is then…um…Mistletoe.”

“Cernd.” 

“Yeah…of course. Cernd.” As she headed up the stairs from the dungeon, Rini noticed an odd-looking gray-haired fellow in a bright blue tunic trailing after her with an ingratiating smile on his non-descript face. _What a strange person…I have a feeling I ought to remember him though. I wonder who he is?_

The journey to the Druid Grove was mostly uneventful, except for the continual frustration that Rini experienced in trying to remember the name of…whatever it was that bland druid was called. Eventually she tied a piece of string around her finger, so that she would at least remember that she was supposed to remember him. What’s-his-name didn’t seem to be a bad fellow exactly, only severely lacking in personality, for which he tried to compensate with annoying nature parables, but nevertheless Zaerini kept hoping that this business with the druids would be over soon so that he would leave. 

They camped in a small glade on the night before their estimated arrival to the Grove. It was a beautiful night, and the air was warm and soothing. Rini didn’t feel quite ready to sleep yet, so she strolled about the camp, watching the trees. She normally didn’t take much of an interest in trees or growing things, but of late she had found her eyes turning towards them more and more frequently. Towards the leaves, to be exact. The half-elf touched the leaf that lay hidden in her pocket, feeling the shape of it. She knew the shape by heart now. _A leaf out of a dream…still green and fresh. I wish I could remember more about how I got it._ But it was important, she knew that much, and that she needed to find the tree where those leaves grew. _If not here, then in some other forest. And when I find it…then…what?_

_Leaves…_ Softpaws snorted. _What’s so interesting about those? Come join me instead…there are rabbit tracks here._

_Not right now, Softy. I need to think about this._

_You need to think about other things as well. Your two males, for example. Well, one male, one female._

The half-elf sighed. _I know. I’ve kept trying to talk to Edwina, but she’s hiding something from me, I can sense it. Something important. And it is more than that she feels bad about the curse on her. I just wish she’d tell me what it is. How am I supposed to help her if she won’t talk to me?_

_You’ll find a way. Your Cards told you so, didn’t they?_

_Yes…it seems so. The Three of Coins…referring to a master craftsman. It was coupled to the Lovers. But I don’t know what that means._

The black cat purred, rubbing herself against her mistress’ legs. _Don’t worry, kitten. It will come to you, I’m sure. What about the other male though?_

_Anomen…I’ve tried talking to him too. But somehow, whenever I do, he seems to get the wrong idea, just because I try to be nice. And I can’t hurt his feelings simply in order to prove a point. I won’t do that._

_You have to try again, though. Before those two kill each other._

_I know._ Zaerini sighed again and squared her shoulders. _Come on then…he’s on guard at the moment. And Edwina is asleep, so there should be no risk of her noticing and getting jealous._ With that, she made her way over to where Anomen was sitting on a fallen log, tightening the straps on his armor. She couldn’t help but notice that he had nicely broad shoulders, or a warm smile, or the admiring look in his dark blue eyes as she sat down next to him. _I can’t believe I never noticed that look before. But…he’s not the one I want. I guess…I simply wasn’t paying attention, not as I should have._ “Hello, Anomen,” she said, forcing herself to smile. “Mind if I join you?”

“It would be my great pleasure if you would share my company for some time, my lady,” the cleric said. “Truly, I could not wish for better, though you startled me for a moment.”

”Startled you? How?”

“Why, merely because when I first saw you appear out of the woods, I thought that a wild nymph had come out of hiding and feared that I might be struck blind by the sight.”

“Oh…er…thanks,” Rini said, fidgeting nervously with the sleeve of her tunic. _What do you say in response to something like that? I know how to deal with Edwin…mostly…but this is the sort of thing storybook knights say to their ladies. And whatever else I am, I’m no lady._ “You flatter me.” 

“Not at all, my lady. As an aspiring Knight of the Order, it is my wont to speak naught but the truth.”

“Right,” Zaerini said, with the bright, desperate voice of somebody eager to change the subject. “So, Ano, we’ve been traveling together for some time now, right? And I’ve been thinking about some of the things you’ve said before and…”

“I know what you mean, my lady!” Anomen said, and then gave a melancholy sigh. 

“You…you do?”

“Aye…I find myself opening up to you more and more, in a manner I could never have foreseen.”

“Right, well, that’s what I thought, and…”

“And in doing so, I also feel the urge to share even more with you, my fondest hopes and dreams, my sorrows even.” 

“Um…about those hopes…do you mean to say…” Rini gave a startled jump as Anomen suddenly grasped her hand, planting a light kiss on it. 

“You are as ever a crutch for me to lean upon in my moments of weakness, my lady,” Anomen eagerly said, still bent over her hand as her mind felt frozen in place. “You are my friend in need, and you listen to me as few others have done…except for my dear sister Moira.” His face darkened. “Certainly not my father. The mere thought of him makes it feel as if an ill wind has blown across my soul.” 

Zaerini sighed inwardly. _Not getting through here. And I think he does need somebody to listen to him. And I want to help him out. It’s just…_ “Perhaps you could tell me a bit about your father?” she asked, gently disentangling her hand. 

Anomen nodded, and when next he spoke his eyes were pained. “I remember when I first achieved the rank of squire. It had been a difficult task...my father had refused to be my patron, so I was no better off than a commoner would be. Most knights would not take me in, since I had no coin to pay for my equipment. I had to prove myself. A knight by the name of Sir Blethyn took pity on me and had me squired. I was proud during the ceremony, and happy...but it was not to last. My father, Lord Cor, stumbled into the Order's headquarters...he was filthy drunk and full of rage.” By now Anomen was clenching his fists, almost spitting the words out. “He began shouting at the knights...at Sir Ryan Trawl, no less...that I had been stolen from him. That I was a worthless and weak son who should not be in the Order. Sir Ryan Trawl told him that I had proven myself...but the old bastard would hear none of it. They were finally forced to drag him out of the headquarters, kicking and screaming.” There was a brief pause, and then Anomen smiled, a self-mocking little half-smile that held no real joy. “Leave it to Lord Cor to stain the one moment of pure pleasure I was able to steal during my time in the Order, the one thing I had achieved despite all of his opposition. Bah!”

_Oh gods…poor Anomen. What must it have been like, to grow up with a father like that? I always knew I was lucky to have Gorion…but not how lucky._ “That’s really awful, Anomen!” she said, feeling almost as angry on his behalf as he was. “I’m so sorry that it happened like that.” 

Anomen shrugged a little, sighing. “As am I. Since my mother's death, my father has been the force against which I have always struggled to prove myself...an invisible cancer which I cannot vanquish.” He shook his head. “Ah but listen to me. What a pathetic knight I must seem, blubbering like a boy to you over such a thing as my father's disapproval. You must think me a fool, my lady.”

“No, Anomen,” Rini said with as much emphasis as she could. “I don’t think you’re a fool at all.”

The priest’s smile was warm, and his voice held none of the normal arrogance as he looked her straight in the eyes. “You are kind to say so, my lady. Thank you.”

_Oh, that was smooth_ , Softpaws said as she jumped onto the log, sitting down between the cleric and the bard. _Really smooth. Whatever happened to ‘beat it male, I’ve already picked out a mate and you’re not it’?_

Zaerini didn’t answer. She simply watched Anomen’s adoring face, trying not to let her own dismay show, feeling utterly trapped.


	66. Swamp and Surprises

**Cards Reshuffled 66 – Swamp and Surprises**

_In general, I tend to by far prefer giving people surprises to receiving them. However, for the right surprise, coming from the right person, I am prepared to make an exception. As long as it doesn’t involve dragging me along to a pub, trying to get me drunk and forcing me onto a stage for the humiliating spectacle that is public singing, that is._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

“Do you mean to tell me that this is a Druid Grove?” Edwina said, making a broad gesture that encompassed the surrounding swamp. “People actually choose to live here?” ‘Here’, was a swamp. There were some narrow paths leading through it, wet and mushy paths, as winding as coiling snakes, but mostly it was bobbing tufts of grass on top of deep, sucking mud, and deep puddles of dark and motionless water. There seemed to be about a thousand frogs about, hopping here and there, and being generally noisy in the background, and they were accompanied by the piping tunes of literally millions of mosquitoes and gnats.

Edwina did not approve of this. She was not, and never had been, a wilderness person. She much preferred a proper city, with broad, firm, and above all dry streets, with taverns, shops and general civilization. True, wilderness could look pretty, but she much preferred to view it from a distance, without the muckiness that always seemed to result from actually going outside in it. Angrily, she slapped after a particularly annoying mosquito and practically knocked herself out as she hit herself on the cheek. It hurt. 

“This is not the Grove itself,” Jaheira explained, without turning around. The druid had taken the lead through the swamp, as she had visited here before. “The druids live further in, on an island deeper within the swamp. Stop whining. It is not our fault that you insist on such impractical clothing.” 

“I happen to be accustomed to maintaining a certain level of style, and don’t traipse around encrusted in mud and with sticks in my hair for fun, unlike certain other people! (I don’t know how I will ever get these stains out of my robe…)” Then she broke off, as Zaerini tapped her shoulder and then reached up to touch her still burning cheek, smiling a little. 

“You’re pretty sweet when you fuss,” the bard said, casting a minor healing spell that made the pain dissolve as if in a cool breeze. “But I think you’re forgetting something important.”

“What?”

“You’re standing in the middle of the bog…” 

Edwina looked down. Her precious red boots had sunk deeply into the mud, all the way to ankle level, and when she tried to pull them up the only result was a disgusting slurping sound. The curses she uttered would have utterly mortified her mother who had always tried to not speak such words in the presence of her beloved child. Edwin had always been a quick learner though…and Mother was a very creative curser when she lost her temper, which was often. 

Once she had been pulled free, with the aid of Zaerini and Minsc, Edwina trailed after the rest of the group, feeling even gloomier than before. Now the mud was making her itchier than ever. She wanted a bath. And to wash her hair. And she wanted her own body back. And more than anything, she wanted Anomen Delryn dead, or at least transformed into a frog. _Or a mosquito. Then I could slap him into a tiny mass of blood and crushed chitin…yesssss…_

She had woken up last night to hear the annoying, bleating voice of the cleric speaking to _her_ Hellkitten, and while the half-elf hadn’t exactly been crawling all over Anomen, she had been sitting far too close to him for Edwina’s comfort. _He’s always after her…always talking and talking, trying to impress her. Suppose she…suppose she wants him? No! I’ll kill him if he tries to steal her from me! She’s mine! MINE! She’s all I’ve got, I love her, and she loves me. Doesn’t she? But suppose she thinks I won’t ever turn back to normal and has grown tired of waiting?_

_Oh, come on, Boss_ , Insufferable said. The fluffy monkey was currently sitting on Edwina’s shoulder, and now he gave her earlobe a small tug. _Aren’t you the one who keeps saying that he’s ugly, stupid and annoying?_

_YES!_

_Well, if he is, then why would she want him?_

_Er…I…_

_Boss, you gotta do something about this problem of yours_ , the monkey said, lazily inserting a tiny finger into his pink little ear and digging about inside. _Mmm…that feels good…anyway, you gotta show her some HOT, STEAMY MONKEY LOVE! I’ll show you; you just start on your own, then she’ll join ya in no time!_

_Suffy, will you stop that! You are embarrassing me._

_MMmmm…yeah…nicenicenice…monkeys know all about mating, see! She’s looking this way already!_

_YES, because you are…doing whatever it is you are doing. And do you have to do it on top of me?_

_It’s called ‘suggestive gestures’, Boss._

_That’s not ‘suggestive’. That’s ‘indecent’._

_What’s ‘indecent’? Monkeys don’t have that word._

_Somehow, I’m not surprised._

“Er…’Dwina?” Zaerini asked. “Is Insufferable all right? What’s that odd noise he’s making? And what’s he doing?”

“Nothing, nothing,” the wizard hastily said, grasping her familiar and hiding him behind her back. “He’s just…itchy.” 

_Heh, just like you are, Boss. And I know exactly where you’re itching, and who you want to scratch the itch…we’re linked after all._

Edwina sighed. _How could I possibly have wound up with a familiar this obnoxious and irresponsible…_

_And cute and fluffy, Boss! Don’t forget cute and fluffy, just like you!_

_I’m not cute and fluffy!_

_Well, at least you’re cute…and the Pretty Cat Lady thinks so too. We’re perfectly matched. Now, if you’d only follow my advice, she’d be scratching your itch in no time…_

Edwina walked on, but she was still scowling. The fact that Anomen chose this particular moment to regale everybody with tales about how he was an experienced campaigner, adept at navigating every kind of possible terrain did nothing for her mood. Just as she was trying to formulate a particularly scathing remark, one that concerned the tendency of pigs to be familiar with muck, the voice of that dull druid fellow interrupted her thoughts. Funny how his name kept slipping away from her…not that she was particularly interested. _A very boring individual_ , she thought, _completely uninteresting in every way._ Even the mosquitoes seemed to be avoiding biting him, and she couldn’t blame them. _No doubt they prefer the rich and cultured flavor of Thayvian blood._ And now he was watching her and smiling. 

“Why do you stare so, fool?” she spat. 

“Cernd,” the idiot simply said, smiling that bland little smile of his. “My name is Cernd.” 

“Yes, yes, whatever! What exactly is it that you find so very amusing? (If he mentions my poor boots, I will plant him in the bog…head first.)”

What’s-his-name simply shrugged, still smiling that annoying little smile, as if he knew something she didn’t. “Why does the King protest? His forests are pilfered, leaving just hills and scrub, but what loss is it? How can it be of value when it was never put to use?”

Edwina felt as if she had just been punched in the gut. _There’s an insult in there…does he know of my condition? But how could he possibly…_ “Stand away from me, simpleton,” she hissed. “Or I will help you commune all the better with nature, or at least with the worms that will feast upon your lifeless corpse.” 

Once again, that damnable shrug and smile. “Perhaps another topic then…Are the flowers not beautiful this time of year? Perhaps a little late in the blooming, but still...” And there was definitely a malicious little glint in those bland gray eyes, Edwina was quite certain of it. _He does know! But how could he know? Who would have told…_

And then she turned to see Anomen watching her, and the priest was definitely smirking. _That…that bastard!_ Red rage was blooming like a poisonous flower in her heart. _I’ll make that Helmite pay for this final indignity if it’s the last thing I ever do. Isn’t it enough for him to mock me, without spreading the tale of my shame to strangers?_ “What!?” she snarled to…whatever the druid’s name was. “What are you getting at!? I know you are talking about me, so speak it plain!”

“Oh, I meant nothing,” the fellow said, shaking his head. “It is my wont to talk of nature and her gifts.”

_Perhaps I was mistaken after all…_ ”Very well,” she said, attempting to cling to the shreds of her dignity. “I shall let the comment pass and…”

“I mean, if I say how the great cycle fells the mighty oak, yielding to the furrows and valleys of a more subtle landscape, is it my fault if you take offense?”

Anomen was practically laughing outright now. Edwina clenched her jaw, desperately looking for a way out. Alas, Zaerini was walking a bit further ahead, with Minsc and Jaheira, and hadn’t heard the comments, and Jan was scouting somewhere out of sight. There would be no help. _And I don’t want her to have to help me. I can handle this on my own. I can._ She tried to keep her face and voice as impassive as possible. _Don’t let them see that it hurts._ Don’t ever let them see that it hurts. “I see, I see. I shall let the slight pass and...”

“And if I say that the great stag casts aside its wondrous mantle as the long winter approaches, should it be my concern if you draw any comparisons to your...”

_I don’t care what they say. I don’t care. Idon’tIdon’tIdon’tIdon’t…_ She tried to focus on Insufferable, who by now was hurling insults at the druid and the cleric, both verbal and non-verbal. It was certainly more than she felt capable of herself at the moment. She could only just barely manage not to cry. _If that happens, they will never let me forget it. Show nothing._ “Yes, yes, yes, now will you please cease your prattle!”

The druid shook his head in mock sympathy, and then nudged the still chortling Anomen meaningfully. “Poor Edwin. When nature casts aside an appendage, she is confident it will return in the proper season. My heart weeps for your insecurities. Weep, weep.”

Her eyes were definitely blurring now, and there was a burning pain at the back of her throat. Only with a massive exertion of willpower did she manage to hold the tears back, but her voice was still strained as she spoke, and she could feel a muscle near her chin twitching violently. “You speak of nature, druid. Then know this…it is not in my nature to forget easily, not even one as unremarkable as you. Be certain that I will remember every last word of this conversation, and the reason for it. (And then I may just introduce him to the nature of fire.)” Anomen she didn’t even address, but as the cleric moved ahead again, she kept her dark eyes fixed on the back of his head, and the equally dark rage kept swirling in her blood, filling her mind. 

_I have had enough of this. No more mockery, no more insults, no more attempts to take her away from me. It is time for him to die – and I will make it as painful as humanly possible. Yes…it is the only thing to do. The only sane, rational alternative. He is in the way, and he will be removed. Soon. Very, very soon._

As Edwina walked on, she was smiling, despite the tears in her eyes. It wasn’t a pleasant smile at all, and neither was it entirely sane. 

-*-

It was late at night in the city of Athkatla as Delvor the smuggler slowly made his way along the docks, to where his ship, the ‘Wailing Mermaid’ lay anchored. Normally he’d have been drunk, on this, the first night ashore for many weeks. But these weren’t normal times, and he wasn’t even a little tipsy. Word on the street was clear. These days, people who got drunk and wandered off alone tended to disappear, never to be seen again. The smuggler scratched his chin, feeling the raspy dark stubble against his fingers. He didn’t plan to disappear…but being sober also meant that he was very much aware of the peril he was in. 

When Delvor had reported in this same morning, he had been told several disturbing rumors from the Shadow Thieves he knew. People spoke in hushed tones and whispers, phrasing themselves very vaguely, as if they were afraid to be overheard. _Traitors in the Guild…hostile Assassin’s guild…people disappear. People disappear. They don’t come back. Some of them do come back…but they are not the same. They say…people say…hush. Can’t say more. Don’t know if it’s safe. Can I trust you? Can I trust anybody? Anybody could be working for them. Trust nobody. They are close._

He wasn’t certain exactly what it all meant, but it added up to a very dark and disturbing picture. So, he had warned his men, warned them against the darkness of the empty streets, warned them against going off with strangers, as if they were toddlers and he their doting father. _Should have taken my own advice._

He had been very careful, staying put in the Sea’s Bounty for the entire evening, not wanting to walk about by himself. He’d stayed away from the grog, despite dying for it. In fact, for a few moments he’d entertained the treacherous thought of staying the night. But that he wouldn’t, ‘The Mermaid’ was waiting for him and he wouldn’t abandon her. No telling what might happen if he wasn’t there to keep her safe. Those assassins or whatever they were might decide to sabotage her, if they knew she was a ship running contraband for the Shadow Thieves. So, he’d decided to return to the ship. Maybe he should have asked somebody to accompany him…but that could be dangerous, with his crew. The captain could show no weakness, no fear. If he did, his next voyage could well prove his last. _If there are sharks in the water, you’d better not bleed._

And so it was that he was doing exactly what he didn’t want to do, walking the dark streets on his own. Here and there dim lanterns hung across the street, but the patches of darkness between them were far larger. In the distance there was laughter…a woman’s low and chuckling laughter. A sound that should have stirred his blood and roused his ardor. So why did it suddenly feel as if his blood had turned to ice? Delvor shuddered and walked a little faster. The shadows seemed even longer than before. _I’m a Shadow Thief. I’m not afraid of the darkness. I’m not._ From a narrow alley to his right there were scuttling hurried noises. Rats? He hoped it was rats. _Tymora’s tits, let me live through this night and I’ll…I’ll join a monastery. Or start collecting money for orphans, at least those I’ve made myself. Or…_ Again that laughter, and this time it was followed by a brief scream, abruptly cut off. 

His steps were even quicker now. Were those footsteps behind him, matching his own? He could swear it was footsteps. His heart was pounding in his chest now, and his mouth felt as dry as dust. When he stopped, there was silence. Deep, ominous silence. He started walking again. Now he could hear nothing. But did that mean there was nothing there, or simply that he couldn’t hear it? 

Once he finally saw the water ahead, glittering black and covered with drifting garbage and debris, Delvor could almost have wept with relief. There was ‘The Wailing Mermaid’ ahead of him, his ship, his home, his pretty lady. He practically ran aboard, laughing breathlessly at finding himself alive. 

And now he descended the ladder to his private cabin, whistling softly to himself, never happier at being alive. Trouble hadn’t followed him home after all. _Forget the monastery, I need a drink! A big one._ He unlocked the door to the cabin and went inside, bending over the locked cupboard in which he kept his personal supply of spirits. It was good to be alive. 

The coldness wrapped itself around his throat from behind with the speed of a striking snake, squeezing tightly. Delvor made a gagging sound, his fingers desperately trying to pry the thing off even as his vision blackened, and his tongue protruded from his mouth. It was all in vain; his assailant was holding him in a firm grip and he couldn’t get loose. Soon, it would be over, and just before his heart gave out a final thought flittered across his dying consciousness. Trouble hadn’t followed him home at all, no. It had been waiting there for him, all along. 

-*-

As he let the corpse slide to the floor, Dekaras thought to himself that he’d been fortunate. He hadn’t expected the smuggler to return for several hours yet, and this meant he would have the rest of the night to himself. Bodhi wouldn’t be expecting his report until sometime tomorrow evening, so he’d have the time to do some research before getting a few hours’ sleep. But first, he had to dispose of this body. He slipped the garotte into one of his many pockets, flexing his fingers a little. It wasn’t his preferred weapon, but for what he had in mind it was important that there was no actual bloodshed to tip anybody off. _And now I had better hurry up. I do not want to be stuck on this thing when it sets sail. One involuntary sea journey is quite enough, thank you._

The captain’s cabin was fortunately situated close to the hold, and most of the sailors were on shore leave. Those who weren’t never spotted the assassin dragging the bulky corpse into the hold, nor did they hear it when one of the large crates stored there was opened and the corpse was stowed inside, along with a large amount of spices already inside. That should keep the smell from being too strong, until the ship was well out at sea under the direction of a new captain. Bodhi didn’t want all the Shadow Thieves dead, but she wanted them terrorized. This alternative seemed more efficient than simply dropping the smuggler into the harbor, where he might sink or float up in the wrong place. Instead, he would simply disappear into thin air, and then he would turn up when his men least expected it. They would certainly tell that tale to anybody willing to listen, and by the time this ship returned to Athkatla from its brief journey to Brynnlaw there would be plenty of eager ears. Bodhi should be pleased. 

_And that_ , Dekaras thought, _may be just what it takes to make her trust me with some of her knowledge._ He had to consciously work on detaching his mind enough that he could be close to the vampire without showing any revulsion, and it was tiring, but he hoped that it would be worth it. He slipped back ashore, unseen by anyone, feeling satisfied with the evening so far. 

_Perhaps a brief stop at the Sea’s Bounty before going home, to check the mail. Yes, I think I’ll do that. I suppose I need something to eat as well, and then I will still have time to take a look at those documents before getting some sleep._ The documents in question he had acquired off the corpse of an unfortunate Cowled Wizard who had made the mistake of teleporting in to investigate the ‘magical disturbance’ caused by a spinning magical top that set off colorful sparks when it moved. It should make a nice birthday present for Poppy, the assassin thought, at least once he managed to get the blood off. _Come to think of it, she probably wouldn’t mind all that much._ The Cowled Wizard _had_ minded the blood, or rather the loss of it, caused by the fact that he had teleported himself right onto a nasty spike trap, but by that time his objections had been overruled by a poisoned crossbow bolt through the throat. _Clever alarm system they have but flawed. They think they are safe from attack since they scry for all spells cast in the streets, never thinking that there are plenty of other ways for them to die. Oh well. Their loss, my gain._ The documents in question were Cowled Wizard official documents. Dekaras had only had the time to go over some of them, but they seemed interesting. There was one in particular, a reference to ‘magical deviants’ and how many had been ‘apprehended’ over the past year, speaking of a place named ‘Spellhold’, though there was no mention of where exactly it was. _That will be where Imoen is, I’m certain. But if they think I will allow them to keep her there, then they’ll have to be taught otherwise. And I wouldn’t mind being the one to administer that lesson, not at all._

Smiling thinly, the assassin walked into the Sea’s Bounty Tavern, quietly slipping through the crowd. It was funny…despite the general rowdiness of the place people seemed very polite. Nobody jostled him, and when he chanced to look at a couple of the louder patrons they hastily looked away. Clearing his throat politely at a group of drunken sailors who were standing in his way also worked marvels as they hurried to make way. _Politeness goes a long way, even here, it seems. Though that was a pretty odd color they turned._

As he stepped up to the bar, Dekaras waited until he had the bartender’s attention, and then greeted him quietly. “Good evening, Thumb,” he said. “Do you happen to have anything for me? You know what I mean. It will be a letter marked with a red seal, marked with a flower with a jolly face in the center. Don’t ask. My friend has odd tastes.”

“Ah…would ye know, sir, the Thumb is lucky enough to have what ye wants!” the fat barman said, wiping some sweat from his brow. “Though it be a package, not a letter. Er…would ye like a drink perhaps, sir? Grog? Rum? Ale?” 

“No thank you. That will be entirely satisfactory. Just the package will do, and then I will leave.” 

“Ye sure, sir? Nasty night outside, don’t ye want something to warm ye up? No tellin’ what might be outside in the dark if ye go out there alone.” He tittered nervously. 

Dekaras shrugged. “Yes, as a matter of fact there is,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “ _I_ will be outside in the dark, just as soon as you hand me my package. And I will, indeed, be alone. Unless you wanted me to wait for closing time when you leave yourself?” 

The bartender looked him in the eyes and made a small, choked noise. “Ah…no thank ye, good sir. I’ll be fine. Here it is then.” 

“Thank you,” Dekaras politely said, smiling again. “I will see you later, I am certain.” As he pulled his black cloak closer, preparing to depart, he couldn’t help but notice the way the bartender’s hands were shaking. _Nervous fellow. I can’t see how he handles this job if a little polite conversation shakes him up this badly._

Once he reached the small room he was renting, in a dingy little house in a back alley, Dekaras carefully examined the package. It was wrapped in brown paper, tied up with a string that seemed to have about a hundred knots, and there was indeed a bright red seal on top, decorated by a flower with a disturbingly jolly face in the center. No traps to be seen. Not that he would expect anything serious, and the seal didn’t look tampered with, but even so…Poppy could have a pretty odd sense of humor sometimes. 

The package turned out to contain two things. The first was an obviously magical item. Dekaras gave it a suspicious look, his black eyes narrowing as he held it up. Poppy wouldn’t send him a birthday present that was all a joke, true, but she would still enjoy something that would cause what she tended to refer to as a ‘cute’ reaction. He’d better not do anything at all with this thing before he read the letter, no matter how interesting it looked. As he read the letter, he felt a slowly growing elation, and actually came close to laughing out loud. He had to sit down on a chair and read it over again, more slowly this time, in order to be certain he hadn’t misunderstood it. 

_Hi Dekkie!_

_Boy, I bet you’re surprised to hear from me this soon, huh? I hope you’re taking good care of yourself, and eating properly, and not moping about going all gloomy, because if you are I’m just going to have to come down there and tickle you again, all right? And you know I will too._

_Anyway, here’s your birthday present! I hope you haven’t tried it out yet…well…all right. I hope you have, because it would be so cute to see your face when you see what it does. Don’t worry, it’s easy to work it when you know how, I tried it myself and it works just fine. I’ll describe how to use it in a separate note, and I want you to tell me everything about your first impressions, all right? Wish I could be there to see it…_

_Oh, and here it is…the BIG NEWS! Guess what? I found little Eddie for you, and guess where he is? Right where you are, in Athkatla, or at least that’s where that funny old dwarf, Kagain, dropped him off. You should be able to find him in no time now. Give him a big hug from Auntie Poppy, would you?_

_Big big hugs and kisses,_

_Your Best Friend, Poppy_

Dekaras finished reading the letter for the second time, glancing cursorily at the note that described how to work the birthday present. It sounded very interesting, and practical too, if a little unusual. Right now, he had more important things on his mind though. He was still smiling, an entirely different smile than the one that had greeted ‘The Thumb’. “Oh yes, Poppy,” he whispered. “After I discuss certain matters with him, I promise you that he’ll have more than one.”


	67. Trial By Fire

**Cards Reshuffled 67 – Trial By Fire**

_When somebody makes an offer too good to be true, it usually is. The same thing goes for when a person who has never been remarkably friendly in the past suddenly seems eager to offer you helpful advice for no obvious reason. True, sometimes people do change, but it isn’t necessarily in a pleasant way._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Edwina felt much better now that she had decided to kill Anomen. It was as if a great calm had descended on her, helping her to think more easily. No more second thoughts, and no regrets. All she had to do now was to concentrate, and to focus on working out a proper plan. Attacking the cleric openly would clearly be a bad idea. True, her magic was powerful, but that wouldn’t be of much help if that magical flail happened to smash her skull in. No, it would have to be an ambush. _Skull traps perhaps. Those can be set in advance, and I would not even have to be present as long as I knew he was going to walk into them. And I have a couple memorized now. Will that be enough? Or should I wait? But if I wait too long then he may manage to make an impression on my Hellkitten, and that we cannot have. No, it must be soon, before it is too late._

The wizard shot a look across her shoulder to where Anomen was sitting on a boulder, speaking with that blasted druid, whatever his name was. The party was taking a short break in order to catch their breath, since traveling through the hot and mucky swamp was hard going. Right now, it seemed as if the fool was displaying the Flail of Ages, preening as if he had created it himself. “Verily,” he said, speaking in that stupid romance-novel accent that always set Edwina’s teeth on edge. “The Flail of Ages is a wondrous weapon indeed. The Lady Nalia told me of its history, and it is a fascinating one. It was made by the Rakshasa, that dangerous race of dark spirits cloaked in magical flesh. Terrible beings they are, fond of causing misery and strife amongst mortals and of feasting upon their flesh. It has been their wont to use this flail as a trap of sorts, letting it be found by powerful mortal warriors such as myself, only to hunt down and slay each one in turn.” 

“How horrific!” said the annoying druid, smiling that bland little smile of his. “Tell me, my friend, are you not afraid? After all, the weapon is held by you now, and even the most magnificent of stags may be overwhelmed as a hungry wolf pack comes after him. The strongest of oaks may yet be split by lightning.” 

“Bah!” Anomen scoffed, flecking an imaginary spot of dust from his mustache as he gave Zaerini a surreptitious look. The bard was sitting on the ground with her back against a large rock. Her eyes were closed, but Edwina thought she had to be awake, for she was petting Softpaws who was lying on her lap. “I have no fear of such foul beasts as the Rakshasa!” Anomen said in a voice that was louder than was strictly necessary, and clearly meant for the half-elf’s benefit. “Helm will guide his most loyal servant right, and my good right arm shall split the skull of any beast man who attempts to savage me.” 

“Funny thing that,” Jan said, grinning. The gnome had climbed onto the rock that Zaerini was leaning against and was tinkering with his crossbow. “That’s almost exactly what my auntie Gertie always used to say before going out dancing. Very sturdy lady she was, had steel-plated underwear for protective purposes. You would have liked her, Ano.” 

“I highly doubt it,” Anomen haughtily said. “I prefer the company of people who aren’t fools.” 

“Poor Ano, that can’t be good for your self-image at all. But don’t worry, for three turnips per hour I will provide you with Jan Jansen Therapy. Just lie down on the ground and tell me all about your parents, while I take a nap.” 

“Speak not of my family, you offensive little…”

“Anyway,” Jan went on, his eyes twinkling. “Auntie Gertie then moved on to wear full platemail in order to protect herself against ‘pawing by ruffians’ at the dances she liked to go to. Not that that was very likely to happen, she was sadly un-amused by storytelling. Bit of a black sheep, really. She wasn’t very good at dancing either, she mostly just stood still in one place and glared at anybody who came close. But then one night she did meet her perfect match, a strapping young man who came sniffing about as soon as he saw her, panting with desire.” 

“For your aunt?” Anomen asked, sounding incredulous. 

“Oh yes. He was a werewolf you see, and he mistook her for a lamppost in that armor of hers. Very embarrassing about the carpet…but it turned out that Auntie Gertie rather liked being pawed after all. So, you see, Ano, there’s somebody for everybody, perhaps even for you!” 

_Oh no there isn’t_ , Edwina thought, her fists clenching. _Or at least not the ‘somebody’ that he wants. I’ll make certain of that._ She pushed her hair out of her eyes, annoyed at how sticky it felt. This place was far too humid, she hated being sweaty. And then there were those frogs who kept making noises. Not to mention the mosquitoes. Of course, none of them were even close to being the pest that Anomen was. _It will feel so good to kill him._

Speaking of which, the cleric was getting to his feet, stretching in an elaborately nonchalant manner. “Excuse me but a moment,” he said. “I shall return shortly.” 

“Where are you going?” Jaheira sharply asked. “It is dangerous to wander about here on your own, the druids of the Grove may well be patrolling the area.”

“Oh, I will not go far, lady Jaheira. I…er…merely mean to inspect some interesting plants that…er…your colleague told me grow nearby.” 

“Cernd,” the gray-haired druid filled in. 

“Yes. Of course. Cernd.” Anomen was fidgeting in a very suspicious way now.

“I didn’t know you were that interested in botany?” Zaerini asked, opening her eyes to give Anomen a curious look, while she still kept petting her familiar. 

“Oh yes, my lady. The fairest of blooms hold a dear place in my heart, and I would be pleased to show you my appreciation of them at some convenient time.” The squire bowed, and the satisfied note in his voice had Edwina digging her nails deeply into the moist ground in order not to pounce on him immediately and rip his eyes out. “Fear not for my safety, as I said I will return shortly.” He wandered off down the path, humming to himself. Edwina stared after him, feeling even more murderous than before. 

“The young man seemed to take a particular interest in the flower known as the Crimson Rhodelia,” a soft voice said right next to Edwina’s ear. “I believe he intends it as a gift for somebody, even as the spider brings his chosen lady a fly wrapped in silk. Or perhaps he intends to wear it himself, as the peacock spreads his colorful tail to attract the female he desires.” 

Edwina startled a little, turning around to look into that bland, unremarkable face, surrounded by its long mane of gray hair. She hadn’t heard the druid approach, and she didn’t like being surprised. She liked his words even less. “Do not provoke me, druid,” she snarled. “Or I may just wrap _you_ in a silken cocoon, courtesy of a Web spell, and then leave you by the water. (I hope there are crocodiles here. Big, hungry ones.)”

“On the other hand,” the infuriating fellow said, still with that little odd smile of his, “somebody else might get there before him. If she knew the way, that is.” 

_Yes! This is perfect! I can kill Anomen, out of sight of anybody, and be rid of him forever. And I can get those flowers too…crimson ones, that sounds like just the right thing for my Hellkitten._

_I don’t like this, Boss!_ Insufferable shuffled about nervously on the wizard’s shoulder, sounding very concerned. _I don’t like him. He smells odd…and why is he telling you all this anyway? He wasn’t nice to you before._

_Clearly you know nothing about druids, monkey. They are obsessed with ‘keeping the balance’, everybody knows that. He helped the priest before…and now he obviously wishes to help me. Not that I need it as such, but it might make things a little simpler._

_But…_

_No! I have had enough of the Helmite. This is my great opportunity, and I will not be stopped._ Edwina smiled at the druid, momentarily envying him whatever it was that made all the mosquitoes stay away from him. “I would be fascinated to learn more about these red flowers of yours,” she murmured. “I suggest that you tell me exactly where to look for them. And then I suggest that you forget all about telling me.” 

The druid was still smiling, his gray eyes like mirrors, giving nothing away. “I shall be as the goldfish, which forgets the interior of its bowl after swimming one lap.”

Edwina nodded, looking about. Minsc was combing Boo’s fur and arguing with Jan who was trying to feed the hamster bread crumbs. Jaheira was checking her pack. And Zaerini was still resting. Nobody was watching her at the moment. Nonchalantly she sauntered off, all the time expecting somebody to ask her where she thought she was going. It never happened, and as she followed the druid…whatever his name was…deeper into the swamp Edwina felt her heart soar. Finally, something was going her way. 

After a short walk, the druid stopped, tugging at Edwina’s sleeve as he pointed towards an area where the ground seemed firmer, and where some dense trees trailed branches like long gray beards into the surrounding water. “Over there,” he said. “There is where you will find the Crimson Rhodelia, and the young squire too. I shall observe from a safe distance. Natural selection is interesting to study, but I wouldn’t want to be part of it, so I will follow the example of the gentle turtle and withdraw.” With that, he wandered off, and was soon lost amidst the dense vegetation of the swamp. 

Edwina advanced carefully, trying to stay as silent as possible. An invisibility spell hid her from sight, and now she only had to avoid treading on any large branches. Her heart was beating wildly with anticipation and excitement, but she forced herself to walk as slowly as possible. _Teacher Dekaras always says that it is a mistake to rush into this sort of thing. I’ll take a good long look first, before I decide what to do._ Eventually, she could see Anomen, bending down over a few bright red flecks on the ground. _Picking my flowers in order to give to my Hellkitten, is he? He’ll soon regret that._ The rage was rising again, making her see red spots in front of her eyes, heating her cheeks, making her bare her teeth in an unconscious snarl. _I won’t let him have her._

_Boss, please stop!_ Insufferable sounded really pleading now, and the little monkey had climbed onto Edwina’s head and was pulling at her hair in order to get her attention. _This isn’t a good idea; can’t you see that!_

_Of course it is! I kill him, and then he can cause no more trouble. It is very simple._

_But the Pretty Cat Lady won’t like it, you know that._

This actually made Edwina pause for a moment, but then she shrugged. _She won’t find out. I’ll tell her that he was attacked by wild animals and that I was too late to save him._

_Wild animals? What, fire breathing wild animals who leave magical residues behind? Boss, you’re not thinking straight! Your head feels all messed up inside, you need some rest._ The little monkey climbed down to Edwina’s shoulder and gently patted her cheek with a leathery little hand.

_I am perfectly fine. Never better. It all makes sense now. Soon he will be gone, and then he cannot spoil things anymore. And she will be with me, I know she will, as long as he isn’t there to bother us._

_Boss…_

_No! The time for planning is past. Now it is time for me to act, the way an Odesseiron should act towards a filthy rival. When I’m done with him there won’t be enough left to fill a thimble._

Anomen was still crouching over the flowers, looking them over. It seemed that he was about to try to find a perfect specimen, and he was humming quietly to himself as he searched. The back of his head was turned towards Edwina, an excellent target. Riding high on a tidal wave of fury and jealousy, the wizard slowly, almost dreamily reached into her bags of spell components and drew the necessary material out. Then she shifted her legs, making sure she was standing firmly, and raised her hands. _This is it, Helmite. Now you will have all the red flowers that you want. Spouting out of your chest, that is._

Edwina had originally planned for something bone-crushing, flesh-tearing and armor-splitting. Yet now that she actually had her intended victim in front of her and oblivious of the threat she posed, there was really only one option that seemed satisfying enough. _Fireball. Yes, perfect. He’ll be fried inside his armor…and he’ll be as black as a drow when I’m well and done with him._ Her lips started moving in order to form the first syllable of the spell. 

_Boss! WAIT!_ Insufferable’s little voice was utterly frantic, and the monkey tugged hard enough on Edwina’s hair that she lost her concentration. 

_Be silent, monkey! Don’t try to lecture me, I’m not in the mood!_

_No, you don’t understand! I can smell him, and he smells wrong!_

_Of course he does! That Helmite stinks like an open privy._

_Not him! The other one. And what’s he even doing here, anyway?_

_What? Who?_

_Look, I’ll show you. Just a second. Don’t turn your head, we don’t want him to know you’ve spotted him._

Edwina stood motionless, closing her eyes as she adjusted to seeing through her familiar’s eyes through the link they both shared. Insufferable was watching something further off into the swamp, a dark shape almost totally obscured by the lush vegetation, but now Edwina could see it too. There was something odd about the way the hidden one moved, something not entirely human. And the smell sensations were assaulting her as well through the familiar link, and she had to agree. _That druid…whatever his name is…what is he? He can’t be entirely human._

_See? See? And why’s he so keen to see you kill the priest, anyway? Don’t you think you ought to find out?_

_Yes. You’re quite right, Suffy._ Edwina reached up to stroke her familiar’s back, and the little monkey crooned with delight. _I do not like being manipulated_ , the wizard thought, and now her anger was rising again, though with a different target this time. _If I kill the Helmite, it will because I choose to do so, not because some tree- hugger wishes to enjoy some sport._

_Good for you, Boss! So, what’cha gonna do?_

_Much as it galls me, a divination spell is in order here. Lucky there is a perfect pawn available right here to do my bidding. Now watch me, monkey. Watch and learn._

Edwina sauntered up to the kneeling Anomen, who was contemplating the red flowers on the ground with an agonized frown on his face, clearly in some difficulty over which one to pick. “You are picking the wrong kind,” Edwina said, putting her best bite into her voice. “In flower language, I believe it is the ‘Pig’s Nose’ that means ‘I am a conceited, pompous fool, who would make a perfect court jester but for the fact that I can’t even manage to do a proper pratfall.’ (Yes, that ought to do it.)”

Anomen leapt to his feet with a startled oath, and Edwina felt a warm glow of satisfaction spreading through her still invisible body. _Unbelievable how enjoyable that was…I wonder if that’s how Teacher Dekaras feels every single time he does it?_

“Show yourself, you vicious harpy!” Anomen demanded, his face with red anger and his hand on the handle of the Flail of Ages, which he raised in a threatening manner. The three heads sparkled in the sunlight, red, blue and green sparks occasionally shooting off them. Fire, cold and acid, all of them deadly. “I will stand your slurs and vile intrigues no longer. Prepare to be duly smitten!” 

“Oh, is that how noble knights do it?” Edwina mocked, slowly backing towards the hidden druid in the shadows, taking care to keep her voice loud enough that Anomen could easily follow her, even if he didn’t hear the squelching noises her feet made on the wet ground. “Killing those who stand in their way? Perhaps I have misjudged you. You might actually be able to survive in Thay, though you would of course need a superior intellect to guide you in order to actually achieve anything. No, I don’t think I’ll show myself just yet.” 

“If you will not, then I shall force you to reveal your foul visage, evil one!” Anomen shouted. “And I would not be surprised if it turned out to have the horns and fangs befitting a true demon! Helm of the Everseeing Eye, grant me clarity of vision!” A blinding white light flared up around the cleric as he raised his hand, making his entire form blaze like the sun. Edwina had to blink in order to protect her eyes, and she could feel her protective invisibility spell dissolving, just as she had planned. _Now let us hope the rest of the plan worked. It should._

Edwina heard an angry snarl immediately behind her, the snarl of a large and vicious animal, and she had about three seconds to notice the horrified look on Anomen’s face before the cleric grabbed her by her waist, yanking her forwards and towards him, and literally into his arms. “Let go of me, you oaf!” she ordered. “What do you think you’re…” Then she turned around. And then she drew in breath sharply, feeling the blood drain away from her face. 

It was Cernd who was standing there, almost close enough to touch, and now that the protective illusion he had been cloaked with was dissolving she no longer had the least problem remembering his name. It was also becoming very clear exactly why the mosquitoes had been so reluctant to bite him. The druid’s face was gradually melting, disappearing as snow beneath warm spring sunlight, and the other face, the true one, was emerging. This second face belonged to a large tiger, complete with black-striped orange fur, blazing green eyes, white whiskers and wicked fangs as long as Edwina’s fingers. The tiger head was sitting on top of what seemed to be a humanoid body, dressed in loose pants and shirt, but it crouched in a contorted way that was anything but human. Edwina had never seen its like before, but she knew what it had to be, and she cursed herself for not realizing sooner. _Rakshasa! I should have guessed!_ As she looked into those gleefully malicious eyes belonging to the dark spirit cloaked in constructed flesh, she knew what must have happened, or at least some of it. _They thrive on torment…it would have enjoyed for me to kill the Helmite, and then to kill me in return._

_Or for the Pretty Cat Lady to find out about it_ , Insufferable pointed out. The monkey had hidden in one of Edwina’s pockets, but was peering out at the Rakshasa and hissing like a tea kettle. _She might not forgive ya for that, Boss. And that would hurt all of you._

“Helm’s Beard!” Anomen exclaimed, raising the Flail of Ages as well as his shield. “What manner of beast has the druid become?”

“I am Ihtafeer, Rukh of the Rakshasa of the Dark Reaches,” the monster growled. It chuckled, a terrible sound, and bared its fangs. “The corpse of the druid rots in the swamp…I came across him two weeks ago. He was so wonderfully dull, the perfect camouflage. And his flesh tasted quite nice.” It took a step closer, drawing a curved sword that was almost as long as its body. 

“But…” Anomen said. “The cell…why were you in jail?”

“A minor mishap,” Ihtafeer said, glittering eyes darting between the two humans, gauging them. Edwina slowly disentangled herself from Anomen, trying to think quickly. Rakshasa were highly resistant to magic…not immune, but she would be hard pressed to cause any serious damage in a short enough time. “The humans came upon me when I spied upon those filthy Dao, and I let them take me, so I wouldn’t be revealed to the genies. And then you came.” The thing almost seemed to be smiling now. “Willing to free me, to take me to safety…and bearing the Flail of the Kindred, no less. What a perfect hunt! Strife…bloodlust…you both have fed me well already, though I would have wished for one of you to kill the other. Such delightful torment that would bring to the one you care for! And then I would hunt the others, and the Flail would be mine. It still will be, though the hunt must be shorter than I had wished.” The large pink tongue darted out for a moment as the Rakshasa licked its black lips. “Once I’ve dealt with you two, I think I’ll enjoy feasting on the heart of that little redhead…” 

Edwina felt all her muscles tensing and heard blood roaring in her head like a furious storm. She had thought she was angry before, but that had been nothing compared to what she felt now. Her nails were digging painfully into her palms, and she found herself staring hungrily at the Rakshasa’s throat, longing to tear it out with her teeth. Next to her she heard Anomen growling like a furious bear. His face was red with rage, and she thought she could see actual flecks of foam in his beard. For a second or two her eyes met those of the cleric, and for almost the first time since she had first met him, she knew that they were entirely in agreement about something. Then the moment was over, and they both reacted as one. 

“For honor and glory!” Anomen cried out, his voice ringing out like a powerful horn of war calling to battle. Raising his shield to protect himself against Ihtafeer’s sharp scimitar, he charged directly at the Rakshasa, flail whirling. The creature hissed and dodged, bending backwards in a swift movement that would have been impossible even for the most agile of humans, then flowed aside, twisting around to strike. 

Edwina had no intention of standing idle either. She might be handicapped in this battle, seeing that the Rakshasa was partially immune to magic, but she wasn’t helpless. _Nobody will hurt my Hellkitten. Nobody._ She didn’t have a spell to lower magical resistance memorized, unfortunately, but she did have something else. Edwina reached for the item hanging at her belt, smiling gleefully as she did so. _Use what weapons you have available, that’s what Teacher Dekaras always says. I think he’d enjoy this one._ The wizard held the reddish-purple twisted bottle in one hand, and then pulled the cork out with the other. A large shape poured out of the bottle in a billowing cloud of black smoke, roaring with laughter that carried with it the hiss and crackle of flames. It looked somewhat human, but it seemed to be composed entirely of fire, only hints of bronzed skin, streaming hair and glowing eyes visible now and again within the flames. Edwina made herself stand firm, despite the smoke that stung her eyes and the heat that made her almost unable to breathe. This was dangerous, but it was also necessary. She didn’t have the time to perform a proper conjuration, and the efreet that was bound to the bottle Jan had stolen in Trademeet was powerful and could be instantly summoned. Controlling it would be the tricky part. _But I’m not just any wizard. I am the greatest Conjurer of them all, the future Zulkir of Conjuration, and I can do this. Whatever it takes to keep her safe._ At least Jan had understood who was better suited to handle this particular magical item, even if she had had to repay him with some scrolls she would rather have kept to herself. _But it will be worth it._

Distantly, Edwina was aware of the clanging sounds as Ihtafeer’s magical scimitar clashed against Anomen’s shield, striking up bright sparks, and of the Rakshasa’s snarled curses mingling with Anomen’s battle cries. She hoped the priest would be able to keep it up a little while longer. The Rakshasa was a powerful foe to fight alone, and Anomen’s breathing sounded heavier than before. But she could do nothing about it. The wizard’s entire being was focused on the hissing efreet before her, and she was pitting her full willpower against that of the creature she had summoned. Bound to the bottle it was, eliminating the need for a regular conjuration circle, but in order to fully command it she still needed to establish her dominance. She stared into the burning eyes of the efreet, never blinking despite the pain in her eyes, ignoring the magical assault on her mind as the efreet tried to break the chains that bound it. “No! You will obey me, slave! I am stronger than you, I control you, and you will do as I command!” She put all the force she could into it, and felt her hair streaming out behind her on the force of the magic she summoned. Still the efreet defied her. “Do it! I command it! Do it now!” At the base of her throat, her amulet pulsated wildly, burning hot against her skin, and a surge of raw power suddenly filled her, the extra reserve of strength adding the amount of force necessary. The efreet howled, but it turned towards the Rakshasa at last, lifting a scimitar of its own, one created entirely from flickering flames. 

Ihtafeer’s green eyes widened with horror, and the Rakshasa opened its mouth as it saw that flaming sword come sweeping down. Too late. Before a single sound could emerge, the snarling tiger head was rolling on the ground, the crumpling body spurting blood as it fell. The efreet laughed again, catching some of the blood in its hands, consuming it rapidly. Then it clapped its hands, rapidly dwindled to a small pinprick of light, and disappeared into the bottle again. 

The swamp was eerily silent for a few seconds, before the croaking of the frogs and the whine of the mosquitoes resumed once again. Anomen and Edwina stared at each other. The cleric was leaning heavily on his shield, some blood trickling down his throat from where the Rakshasa’s scimitar had slashed his cheek. The wizard felt her legs trembling with exhaustion, and she had to cling to a small tree in order to keep her balance. 

“That,” Anomen eventually said, “was a glorious battle! Unexpected, but glorious, and for a worthy cause!” 

Edwina nodded, and then she started giggling loudly as she suddenly thought of something.

“What?” Anomen asked, looking perplexed. 

“It’s just…” Edwina had to wipe the tears from her eyes, and she kept interrupting herself with high-pitched and almost hysterical laughter. It wasn’t that she’d forgive the priest for anything, not by a long shot, or that she liked him, she told herself. But right now, what with everything, even the rivalry between them paled compared to the humor of the moment. “It’s just…well…at least nobody can accuse Cernd of being dull.” 

Anomen stared at her for a moment. Then a large grin spread across his face, and he started chortling loudly, then progressed into hearty laughter that practically made him bend over double. This made Edwina lose control completely in turn, and she eventually wound up on the soggy ground, clutching her stomach. When their companions came rushing up to them shortly thereafter, attracted by the noise, that is how they found the two rivals, laughing uncontrollably over the body of a headless Rakshasa. 

“What in the name of Uncle Scratchy’s nasty ingrown toenails happened here?” Jan asked, his eyes wide with surprise. 

Edwina and Anomen looked at each other again, almost unable to speak. Then the wizard gave the gnome a wicked little smile. “Well, you know,” she slowly said. “It’s a long and complicated story…”


	68. Gift and Grove

**Cards Reshuffled 68 – Gift and Grove**

_Have you ever suddenly got the feeling that something’s wrong, without knowing exactly what? That can be very creepy, not to mention annoying. Of course, sometimes you don’t feel better even after you figure out what’s wrong, for example if it’s somebody trying to kill you, or your mother-in-law stopping by for an unexpected visit when you thought you’d get to spend the morning in bed with your loved one._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Imoen was humming to herself as she worked, now and then pausing to eye her masterpiece critically. The Statue was coming along very nicely, she thought. Granted, she still couldn’t seem to get rid of the annoyed look in its eyes, but the face in itself looked great. And the body…oh yes, the body was perfect. The pink-haired rogue smiled to herself. True, she knew that her unknowing model was already taken, but there was certainly no harm in looking, was there? She needed something to cheer her up after all, if she was to be locked in this dreary old prison. _And what better way to do it than to look at a very hot guy? Now let’s see…maybe some more clay here. Yep. And a little sharper angle here…want to bring those muscles out after all._ Imoen’s agile fingers worked rapidly, carefully kneading the clay with gentle movements, all the while fantasizing about doing the exact same thing to the model in question. _Yummmm…come on, Immy, don’t drool. Bad enough that you’re locked in a nuthouse; you don’t have to look mad. Even if you’ve got your hands on a really hot and yummy guy. Or at least a clay version of him. Hee hee. It would be lots of fun to see his face when he sees it. Wonder if I could make him blush? Mmmm…cute! Really cute!_ She sighed briefly. _I hope I will see him again. Even if he is taken, he’s still a friend._

There were others she wanted to see too, of course, especially one. She missed her Best Friend, missed her terribly, more than anything else. _I wonder what Rini’s doing right now. I bet she’s trying really hard to rescue me and all, but it can’t be easy._ She’d managed to learn that the asylum was on an island, outside the Amnian coast, and that its location was kept carefully secret to the general populace of Amn. Not to mention that it was guarded by all those Cowled Wizards. Or that there were powerful and deadly wards surrounding it, that would kill any intruder. _I hope Rini’s careful. She must be. I want out of here, but not if she gets herself hurt or killed over it. Though what I’d really like would be to escape on my own. A dashing and cunning rogue should be able to get out on her own, shouldn’t she? Of course she should. Hm, I guess digging through the walls is out. There was that book about the guy who was innocently tossed in prison and got out by pretending to be dead and hiding in a sack…but it took twenty years before he managed, didn’t it? I’d be old by then. No way, I want out while I can still enjoy it. Anyway, he was thrown into the sea and there were sharks and things about, so I guess he was really lucky to live, and Adahn says that only a foolish thief trusts luck over good planning. I’ll have to think of something better._

Imoen carefully put her Statue away in the cupboard devoted to the Spellhold inmates’ creative efforts, between Dili’s lumpy clay puppy and Tiax’ disturbing sculpture of Cyric molesting a small sheep, and then wiped her hands. Yep, her masterpiece was almost done now, and it would be good. But right now, she needed a break, her fingers were aching and she didn’t want to risk spoiling anything. Good thing the clay was lightly magical, it wouldn’t crack or flake, and it would keep in good shape for a long time. It also wouldn’t fully dry until she was done with it, so she didn’t have to finish too quickly. 

That dealt with, the young thief considered her next move. Break time would soon be over, and she would be forced to return to the dreary old cell. She looked around the break room, pondering seeking out the company of any of her fellow inmates. Then she decided against it. The only ones currently around were Tiax and Aphril. Tiax could be fun sometimes, but right now he was writing a list of commandments to implement when he became a god. It already covered a great part of the floor, and whenever anybody passed him, he would try to read them out loud. Aphril was sitting in a corner, her arms around her knees, rocking slightly. She was nice, but she did creep Imoen out more than a little, with her talk about the horrible things that only she could see. No, right now she was probably better off on her own. 

Imoen sighed and headed out the door. The inmates weren’t confined to a single room, except for when they were shut in their cells. She thought it might be a good idea to walk about a little, get some exercise. _After all, a good rogue should try to keep in shape. I wouldn’t want to have a big huge butt when they come to rescue me. I couldn’t climb walls with a big huge butt. Or hide very well. Unless I was hiding in a herd of elephants, I suppose._ And then the girl’s train of thought was interrupted, as she noticed the person walking ahead of her in the corridor. _Wanev? I wonder where he’s going…_

Spellhold’s Coordinator was walking swiftly, and yet somehow furtively. He kept looking nervously left and right, as if he was afraid to let anybody see what he was up to, and Imoen thought she could see anxious wet stains around the armpit regions of his robe. _Eeeeeeew!_ She wrinkled her nose with disgust. _But whatever could Wanev be so freaked out about? He’s the Big Boss of this place, right? The Top Man. He doesn’t have to sneak about. Unless…unless he’s doing something he really shouldn’t. And if he is, then maybe that’s something that could be useful to know._

Imoen didn’t pause to think before heading after the Coordinator. The corridor was mostly bare, but there were still spots in which you could hide if you knew how to, and she knew how to move silently. She’d always been good at Hide and Seek, far better than Rini, and her training so far had made her better than she’d ever dreamed of being. Not that it wasn’t possible to achieve even higher levels of mastery of course. _And I will. One day, I will._ Wanev walked on, oblivious to the girl trailing after him. Then, he stopped before a section of wall that Imoen hadn’t seen before, made a few gestures with his hands and muttered something. A door swung open, and the wizard went inside, the door closing soundlessly behind him. Once it was closed, the wall once again looked entirely unblemished and all in one piece. 

Five minutes later, Imoen was standing in front of the hidden door, chewing thoughtfully on a strand of pink hair. Now that she knew it was there, she could just barely glimpse the faint outline of the door. However, there was no handle, and no visible lock. _Bad enough trying to pick a lock without my lockpicks, but without a lock? No way. Pooh…there has to be a way, even if I’m not a wizard who can just wave his hands and wish it open. Though I really wish I could. Not be a wizard, but just this once…_

And then…then something changed. She’d been standing there, running her hands over the door, wishing as hard as she could, and then it just happened. It was as if a window had suddenly slammed open inside her head, and now light was shining in, and she could see perfectly what to do. Imoen’s eyes glazed over a little as the unexpected power rushed through her, and there was a small smile on her lips as she tapped gently on the door. It immediately opened at her touch, revealing a dark opening, and stairs leading downwards. “Knock knock…who’s there?” Imoen whispered. Then she giggled, and started down the stairs, careful not to lose her balance in the dark. _Imoen. Imoen who? Imoen the…_ She frowned a little. There’d been something there, some thought trying to make itself heard, screaming for attention. But now it was gone again, and she had no idea what all the fuss had been about. Eventually she shrugged and went on downwards. It probably wasn’t anything important anyway. 

After a few minutes Imoen felt considerably less triumphant. The stairway was dark, it was completely pitch black. Probably it was built by and for wizards, who could conjure mage light. But she wasn’t one, so she had to edge herself very slowly downwards, one small step at a time in order not to fall. _Come on Immy, you can do this. Just have to go slowly. Really slowly._ Unfortunately, the slow going meant she had lots of time to think. The first thing on her mind was the problem of exactly how she had opened that door anyway. It had been like…well, like magic really. Only she wasn’t a wizard, she didn’t know a single spell, never had done. So how had she pulled it off? _Rini might know. She reads a lot about things like this._ Thinking about her friend usually comforted her, but right now it just made her feel more anxious for some reason. Something to do with Zaerini…and with magic. Something that she ought to remember, but her mind didn’t want to let her. _How come I can’t remember? Did…did he mess enough with my head to really make me insane?_

Imoen shivered, standing quite still, hugging herself. She didn’t trust her legs to go on right now, they were shaking that bad. Irenicus. She tried not to think about him. She’d managed to forget most of what he’d done to her. But now…now she wondered if maybe it’d have been better to remember. Then she would at least have known where the panic was coming from. Briefly, images flashed through her mind. Knives. Chains. A leather mask, lifelike enough to almost be taken for a living face. Almost. Knives. And eyes, icy blue eyes watching her, boring into her brain, into her soul. _You do not even know, do you? How interesting. One wonders how much it will take to prod you into embracing your full potential, little one? We will find out. I have devised a series of experiments for you. Do not worry, Imoen. You will learn._

A couple of silent tears were trickling down Imoen’s cheeks now, and her breath was quick and ragged. _Somebody…anybody…please help me._ But she knew all too well that she was alone, her friends were all far away. She’d have to do without them for now, somehow. _I won’t remember. And I won’t do whatever it is you want me to, Leatherface. No way. If you want me to be a mage, or a sorcerer, or…or whatever, then I won’t. I’ll be me. Imoen the Pink, the dazzling and clever rogue, who can escape any old prison, so there. I know who I am. I won’t let you change me._ Steeling herself, she eventually went on downwards. She had come this far already, she still wanted to find out where Wanev had gone, and she hadn’t done that yet. _I bet Adahn wouldn’t turn back now. Wouldn’t even think of it. And I won’t either. I want him to be proud of me. All right, he isn’t here right now, but that’s not the point._

After a while, there was a faint and flickering yellow light coming from below, and Imoen slowed her steps even more. It looked like mage light, and that meant she had to be close. Then she heard Wanev’s voice, and pressed herself tightly against the wall, willing her breathing to be completely inaudible. _Silent as a mouse. Invisible like a ghost. I can do this. I can._

Wanev sounded very nervous, Imoen thought, his voice was actually trembling. “I d-don’t know about this,” he said. “I am the Coordinator here, after all.” 

Then Imoen had to bite back a whimper as a second voice replied. An eerily calm, icy voice. The voice of him. Irenicus. “You certainly are, Coordinator Wanev. You certainly are. And as such, you are the powerful one of us, are you not?”

“I…yes. Yes, of course I am.” 

“There you are. I am, after all, your humble prisoner. This cell, these wards, they are strong. All I require is some information in order to alleviate the tedium of my captivity. I believe I already went over the elementary barter system with you, please do not make me repeat myself. I dislike people who don’t pay attention.”

“I…”

“As I said, I require information. If you still wish to probe my mind, then you will give it to me. Tit for tat, Coordinator Wanev, I thought you understood that.” The chilling voice remained as dispassionate as ever. “And you do require my knowledge, Coordinator Wanev. Your subordinates, your superiors…none of them really appreciate you, do they?”

“What…how…how d-do you know that?”

A few seconds silence. “I know many things, Coordinator Wanev. Your ostentatious robe, meant to impress, yet your shoes are so cheap, are they not? Very low quality, I can hear them creak even from inside this cell. You’re really just a simple man, in a position he cannot quite cope with, aren’t you?”

“No! NO! I…I don’t have to listen to this!”

“I can smell your fear, Coordinator Wanev. Your desperation. They intrigue me. Tell me, how does it feel? How does it really feel to know that nobody cares for you, that you could die today and not a single soul would mourn your passing? How does it feel when you wake up late at night, and you cry yourself to sleep in the dark? Please do tell, I am truly curious.” 

A brief sob. “All right…you…you win. I will tell you what you wish to know. Just provide me with the knowledge I need. I need it, in order to show them. Insubordinate, all of them! They all try to trip me up, you know! Can’t trust any of them. Will you help me then?”

“Certainly, my dear Coordinator.” Again, that brief silence, before the cold voice sounded again. “But first, tell me everything about how my young friend Imoen is getting on. I am eager to hear how she is progressing.” 

Imoen wanted to scream out loud when she heard the imprisoned wizard mention her name. Somehow, she managed to keep silent, but she could taste blood in her mouth and knew that she had bitten into her tongue. _Me? He wants ME? No…please no…_ It made a terrible sense. Irenicus had been very eager that she be arrested along with him. Oh, he wanted her for something all right; she couldn’t deny it to herself. _But I won’t let him. Whatever it is, I won’t let him. And he’s locked in that cell now, with heavy wards shutting him in, isn’t he? And that’s where he’ll stay, won’t he?_

Wanev’s nervous voice went on, repeating her every action over the past few days, while Irenicus interrupted now and then, asking questions, probing about the smallest details of her daily life.

_Won’t he?_

-*-

“And so it was that I conquered the foul beast, defeating the evil Rakshasa that would have preyed upon you, my lady! Ah, what a glorious battle it was and…”

“What? You didn’t defeat that Rakshasa, Helmite! It was my magnificent magic that summoned and controlled the creature that struck the actual killing blow. (Trying to steal my thunder, will he? If it’s thunder he wants, then lightning he’ll get…a lightning bolt should work wonders on that armor.)”

“Aye, ‘tis true, but…but without my strong arm to keep the beast at bay, you would have been dead within seconds, wizard. And I am certain I could have killed it myself.” 

“You? Ha! You couldn’t kill a blind donkey! (I doubt he would want to harm one of his closest relatives either.)”

“I could _so_ kill a blind donkey! And but for my True Sight spell, you would never have been able to see through that illusion. Ha! What do you say to that, villain? You owe me your life and may Helm forgive me for it!”

“Only that if I hadn’t prodded your sluggish self into action you never would have known to cast the spell in the first place, and you would currently be in the process of being slowly digested. You owe me your life, and if anybody spreads that shameful tale about I will turn them into a slug and pour salt on it. And furthermore…” 

Jaheira clutched her head with both hands. “SHUT UP!” she shouted, glaring furiously at Anomen and Edwina. They had been going on like this for about an hour or so now, ever since the battle with the Rakshasa Ihtafeer. Now she couldn’t take it anymore. “Unless both of you drop this subject right now, I will make you both intimately acquainted with my staff, by administering it to your thick skulls. The Rakshasa is dead, so let the creature rest in peace and spare us the tedium of your exaggerated boasting that is likely to attract a swarm of enemies at any moment. Do you both understand me?”

The two infuriating humans gave her two comically identical looks of affronted innocence. They actually were pouting like two children who had been deprived of their favorite toy. 

“Lady Jaheira, I must protest…”

“Listen druid, don’t attempt to order me about or…” 

Jaheira bared her teeth in something that resembled a smile but wasn’t really. She raised her staff. “You wanted to file a formal complaint?” she asked. That finally shut them up, though they both kept muttering quietly to themselves, no doubt fussing about the unfairness of it all. _Children…_ She turned her head to notice Zaerini giving her a grateful smile. 

“Thanks,” the younger half-elf whispered. “I tried to get them to calm down, but I guess they were too eager, and I didn’t have the heart to tell them off.” 

“Well, I do. They could easily attract dangerous attention to us. That we have seen no druids yet does not mean they are not here. Actually, I would be very surprised if we did not run across them soon.” 

The bard nodded, a concerned look in her golden eyes. “I know,” she said. “Jaheira, can you get any impression of what we’re up against? What’s causing all those animals to attack? I mean, it would take a lot of druids to control that many animals, wouldn’t it?”

Jaheira paused for a moment. “Yes,” she said. “It worries me. Even if every druid here has become corrupted, their powers should not be enough for this. I do not understand it. But I will see what I can find out, we should be close enough to the grove now that I can get a proper impression of what is happening.” Jaheira walked over to a tall cypress growing with its roots deeply sunk into the dark swamp water, resting her hand against the gnarled bark. Closing her eyes, she opened her mind, reaching out to the tree, and through the tree, to the swamp itself and the Druid Grove within it. 

Cypresses, silent sentinels by the water. The water, dark and motionless, shining black like obsidian, with white water lilies floating on top and mosquitoes darting here and there above the surfaces. Fat leeches in the water, eager for blood, and frogs and toads singing their endless songs from the wet shores and the thick lily pads. Enormous ferns grew along the shores, almost resembling trees themselves, with spiders spinning silky webs between their wide leaves. Cattails bobbing here and there like their namesakes whenever a small wind stirred them, their leaves rustling. Fish, and snakes, and much, much more. It was a complicated web of life, and it spread out before her, shimmering and beautiful, open to her eyes. But…something was wrong. 

The proper plants were here, and the proper animals. But there was also something else, a dark influence, like a poison permeating everything, twisting and corrupting. Whatever it was it was drawing power from the earth, from the land itself, without giving anything in return, without respect. It was brutalizing the land, harshly commanding, not requesting. And it was somehow familiar, though she couldn’t place the presence. “This land is dying,” Jaheira said in a toneless voice as her eyes snapped open. “We do not have much time.” 

“Dying?” Zaerini asked. “What do you mean? How?” 

The druid gripped her staff more firmly, her eyes narrowed angrily. “Something is draining this place of the lifeforce generated by the living plants and creatures here, using it ruthlessly to gain power. If the process is not halted soon, this will be a desolate wasteland. I will not allow that. I am a druid, and my duty here is clear. This evil must be stopped.”

“Minsc agrees!” the large ranger chimed in. “Minsc and Boo don’t like it when people hurt the pretty flowers and the cuddly little animals, or even the large and not-so-cuddly ones. Look at the menacing way in which his whiskers tremble! Ooooh, just let the Evil Forest Wreckers come here and try throwing trash on the ground or setting fire to things or feeding the poor animals fatty food! Minsc and Boo will shove their feet down their throats to turn them all into Hamster Wheels!” 

“Yes,” Zaerini said, smiling. “That would sort of make them pause, I think.” 

The party slowly progressed through the swamp, and Jaheira’s sense of unease grow, as did the impression of corruption around here. The same plants grew here, but they were…odd, their shapes tormented and twisted, and with far too many rotting leaves. The mosquitoes had gone completely silent, as had the frogs. She hadn’t heard a single birdcall for several minutes now. And she could swear there were eyes watching her from a distance. Evil, malicious eyes. Eyes belonging to somebody who wanted her dead. All the others too, but her specifically. 

“Hm, this place sort of reminds me of my second cousin, Alec Jansen,” Jan said with an annoying gleam in his eyes that Jaheira recognized all too well. “See, he was doing research on the rare Swamp Turnip in a secret laboratory way out in the swamp, a turnip that would completely eliminate starvation for gnomes all over Faerun, when suddenly – KABOOM!”

“’Kaboom’?” Edwina asked in a weary voice. 

“Yep, it was Alec’s Archnemesis, the fiendishly Evil Dr Anton Urbane, out to steal the secret recipe and turn the entire swamp into an amusement park. Why do villains always cook up such silly schemes, Red? I’d like your input on this in order to improve the story.” 

“Personally,” the Red Wizard said between clenched teeth, “I think that the painful and drawn-out death of a prattling gnome sounds like an excellent plan that any sane and intelligent person would approve of.” 

“Funny, that’s what Dr Urbane said too, before he blew up my relative’s laboratory with a fireball. He wasn’t related to you, by any chance? I have to warn you, Red, that would mean a blood feud between the two of us, and the wrath of the Jansens isn’t a pretty thing.” 

Edwina sighed and shot the grinning gnome a dark look. “I am not related to some half-baked lunatic with a turnip obsession and a ridiculous name.” 

“Oh, come on, Anton’s not that bad. No worse than ‘Edwin’, is it?” Jan swiftly dodged the wizard’s staff as Edwina took a swing for his head, and then went on without drawing breath, balancing along a fallen log. “Where was I? Oh yes, poor Alec. He survived; you see.”

“Why was that bad?” Jaheira asked, before she could stop herself. 

“Why, because the turnip formula had leaked into the swamp water when the lab blew up, and when poor Alec’s bloody and mutilated body fell into the swamp the secret formula reacted with his body and turned him into…SWAMP TURNIP!” Jan hummed a few bars of a eerie and somehow…wet…tune. “Half gnome, half mutated slimy swamp turnip. It’s funny, his wife Linda Jansen always did say that he was a bit of a vegetable after he’d had his dinner.”

“And then what?” Zaerini asked. 

“Well, he wanted revenge on Dr Urbane, of course.” Jan’s voice took on a sorrowful note. “So he crept into his garden and…er…got intimate with the good Anton’s favorite rose bush that was meant to win the prize at the big gardening fair that week, spread his seeds, so to speak. I’m afraid that rose bush wasn’t too popular with the judges once Cousin Alec had worked his swamp magic on it, but they were popular with it. It ate them all, and then it screamed ‘Feed me, Feeeeed me!” at Anton, very aggressively if you ask me. The last anybody saw of Anton he was legging it away over the hills, bleeding and screaming like a baby, with the rose bush crawling after him, or so Cousin Alec said.”

Edwina shook her head. “What a load of bollocks!” she sneered. 

Jan nodded. “Yep,” he said, “that’s what the rose bush said too…don’t tell me you’ve heard this story before? You should have stopped me!”

Edwina moaned quietly. 

Jaheira suddenly stopped, raising her hand to warn the others. That sense of creeping unease was growing even stronger now, and she didn’t think it had anything to do with Jan’s atrocious story. The air was growing denser by the second, it was almost like trying to breathe water now, and she could feel sweat trickling down her back, itching furiously. The mud seemed to suck even harder at her boots than before. 

They came silently, people dressed in green, gray or brown, colors meant to blend in with nature, and they almost seemed to rise from the swamp itself as they stepped out of their hiding places. Most of them seemed young, mere striplings to Jaheira’s eyes. Some looked frightened, some determined. Most had that glazed and unquestioning look in their eyes that is common to all true fanatics. They wielded spears and staffs, or wicked scimitars, and there were at least twenty of them she thought. Her fellow druids, but not her fellows anymore, not judging from the hostile looks on the faces surrounding her. Still, she had to at least try to observe the forms of courtesy. 

“Greetings, brothers and sisters in nature,” Jaheira stiffly said. “I am Jaheira, a druid as you, and I seek passage to the Grove.” 

One of the druids, a young brown-haired man with freckles and a pug-nose, glared at her, cold hatred in his eyes. “We know who you are, filth. You are no true druid, and your very presence pollutes this place, as does that of these…city-dwellers.” He spat the last word out like a curse. “But we know how to deal with your kind.” He raised his voice, and his scimitar along with it. “In Faldorn’s name! KILL THEM ALL!” 

Faldorn! Jaheira instantly recognized the name, and from the startled looks on Zaerini’s and Edwina’s faces, she thought that they did too. She certainly remembered the Shadow Druid they had encountered in the Cloakwood Forest, bent on the destruction of all that she considered a threat to nature. _The hatred that poisons everything, the malign presence…now I see. Faldorn. A Shadow Druid, here, twisting the Grove, making druids hated everywhere. She must be stopped. She will be stopped._ Jaheira snarled like a wolf, gripping her quarterstaff firmly as she prepared to battle. 

“Come then,” she whispered. “Fall and feed the earth.”


	69. Faldorn

**Cards Reshuffled 69 – Faldorn**

_Just because a creature is powerful, and immune to many things, that doesn't make it invulnerable in any way. Difficult to kill, maybe. But anything that lives, be it a Tarrasque or a Chosen of Mystra, can be got at in one way or another, under the right circumstances, and if you're lucky enough. You simply need to learn to think around the conventional patterns._

_Excerpt from 'Ruminations Of A Master Bard'_

Zaerini rapidly fired off a fireball, aiming for the main cluster of druids, and she noticed Edwina doing the same. The two sizzling hot projectiles hummed through the air and landed with a violent explosion that threw several of the druids to the ground. The shrieks of burning people filled the air, as well as the smell of burning flesh. She heard Anomen, Jaheira and Jan chanting spells of their own, and her body glowed briefly, gaining increased speed and stamina. A blindingly white lightning bolt, as thick as a man’s thigh stabbed from the sky into the body of one of the enemy druids. He jerked violently and feel to the ground, smoke pouring from every orifice in his body. 

The bard pulled out her bow and started firing arrows as rapidly as she could. She was handicapped by the terrain though. Not only did the druids know how to use the dense vegetation to hide, but the soggy plants that had been hit by the fireball were covering the ground in thick smoke. 

“Naughty druids, hurting poor little animals by making them fight!” Minsc roared. “Minsc and Boo will kick Evil Druid Butt until it’s a pretty purple! Hamster Vengeance, for all who are small and furry!” The ranger charged towards the druids, still screaming at the top of his voice, with Anomen and Jaheira right behind him. Jan had his crossbow out, and was standing with his legs wide apart, shooting at everything that moved, and Edwina had summoned up a few Mirror Images to protect herself and was standing with her hands raised and sleeves rolled up, a wizard’s version of a loaded weapon. She was facing the same problem that Rini was, that of seeing well enough to aim properly. 

The half-elf decided to dodge behind a boulder in order to get more cover. Then, she tripped and almost fell, as her legs refused to move. She looked down and bit back a very ugly word that Gorion would have been shocked to hear her utter. Vines were encircling her legs, thick and strangling vines, and they had her legs locked in a death grip, effectively keeping her immobile. Furiously she tore at them with her hands, but only managed to lose her balance so that she fell on her back. Out of the corner of her eye she could see that Jan was trapped in a similar manner, more or less completely trussed up. The vines were moving higher now, squeezing her hips hard enough to make her wince with pain, and creeping further and further up. Now her ribs were being constricted, and it was getting really painful, not to mention difficult to breathe. _Shit. Shit, shit, shit._ Desperately she struggled to get her sword out in order to cut the vines, but the vines yanked at her arms, binding them to her sides. She flopped about on the ground, much like a larva or a baby in swaddling clothes, but without achieving anything significant. Then she felt something cold and soft creeping along her chest, upwards, upwards. Towards her throat. 

Edwina had noticed Zaerini’s predicament and was moving to aid her. Then, however, a dark cloud descended upon her, a dark, moving and above all buzzing cloud. The wizard slapped furiously after the stinging insects, but to no avail. There were hundreds, perhaps thousands of them, crawling all over her skin, biting and stinging. She could barely see where she was going at all, and it felt as if her entire skin had been set on fire. 

Anomen was in a predicament of his own. He had been striding towards the attacking druids, striking them down with his flail if they dared approach. However, now he was faced with a different type of opposition. A swarm of small birds swooped towards him, shrieking furiously, all of them aiming for his face. One of them managed to slice his cheek open with its sharp little beak before he had the time to throw his arm up, protecting his eyes from the feathered little fiends who attempted to peck them out. Tiny wings flapped about his head, loud as thunder. Such tiny foes, and yet he did not dare open his eyes to strike at them, nor was he likely to hit them if he did. 

Minsc faced off against three logs. Well, he thought they were logs at first glance. Then he noticed the eyes, the stumpy little legs, the long snouts, and the teeth. Above all, the teeth. The crocodiles all looked very angry, and very hungry, and they were all moving towards him at a speed you wouldn’t have expected for such seemingly clumsy beasts. “Minsc is sorry, little crocs,” he explained, accompanied by Boo’s angry squeaks. “But he can’t let you hurt his friends! If you try, he will kick croc butt, and there is so much butt to kick!” 

Jaheira rapidly brought her staff up, deflecting a blow from a scimitar, and then spun it around, bringing it down on the head of the druid who had attacked her. There was a sound reminiscent of a cracking egg. The druid rapidly scanned the battlefield, taking in the precarious situations several of her friends were in. Many of Faldorn’s Shadow Druids had fallen already, but several yet remained. Still, for the moment she had to defend rather than attack. Focusing on the three crocodiles she brought her mind to bear against the force that controlled them. The reptile minds were slow and sluggish, most of their thoughts oriented on eating, sleeping, mating and warm sunlight. And there was something there, like a strong spider web tying them together, pulling the animals around like three uncommonly large puppets. _Faldorn. She will regret this._ Jaheira smiled, and then her mind formed the psychic equivalent of a sword, slicing through the web. It was hard going in places, but she prevailed. The strings snapped, lashing back towards their owner, and there was a shrill shriek on the winds, a distant howl of pain and rage. Serve her right, the piece of Shadow Druid filth. _Silvanus, grant me the strength to punish her as she deserves for her violation of the Grove._ The crocodiles blinked slowly, and then turned around, heading for the water. On the way they came across a Shadow Druid who had been knocked unconscious by a glancing blow from Anomen’s flail and decided to have a picnic before going home. 

“Minsc!” Jaheira ordered. “Hurry up and cut those vines!” 

The ranger nodded and rushed towards the swirling mass of vines that had engulfed Jan and Zaerini. “Whoo hoo!” Lilarcor screamed. “Cut cut cut! What, plants? Oh crap! I wanna cut something with blood in…yeah! Lots and lots of BLOOD!” 

That seen to, the druid focused on the flock of birds attacking Anomen. These were harder to gather in than the crocodiles, their minds were small, but flighty and hard to get a grip on, and there were so many of them. However, the controlling force had been weakened, and eventually Jaheira managed to break enough birds free that the others scattered in a panic. Anomen nodded his thanks, and then made a gesture towards a pair of druids trying to conjure up more strangling vines, effectively freezing them in place. 

Meanwhile, Edwina had managed to rid herself of the bugs assaulting her. Unfortunately, she had done this by setting off her Wand of Cloudkill, which had killed the insects off, and now she was choking violently, trying to avoid drawing breath. _Still_ , Jaheira thought, _it was effective. I must remember that._ She chanted a brief prayer to Silvanus and the poisonous fumes blew away, sweet and fresh air replacing them. 

“Hold on…” Edwina coughed. “Let me smoke the others out too…” She pointed the wand at the underbrush a little distance away, and within seconds thick and roiling orange clouds drifted along the ground. Violent coughs and choking noises came from within the cloud, and soon the remaining druids left the safe cover of the trees and came out into the open. Some fled, and the final ones soon fell before the combined forces of the adventurers. 

_Yet it is far from over_ , Jaheira thought. She could feel it still, the dark and pulsing anger everywhere around her, the malignant presence that had brought the very forces of nature against them. _Faldorn. Faldorn remains, and she will be mine to deal with. She will be challenged, and she will be beaten._

Once the party had gathered together, and healing had been administered, they marched on through the swamp. With no further interruptions they eventually came to the end of the path, a smooth rock wall with a wide cave mouth. A circle of stone pillars had been erected in front of it, an open roof temple for the worship of the forces of nature. “This is the entrance to the Grove,” Jaheira explained to the others. “Faldorn will be inside, and I will need to challenge her. None of the rest of you must interfere, do you understand me?”

”What?” Zaerini incredulously asked. “You want to fight her alone? Why? I say we just kill her.”

Edwina nodded. “I agree,” she said. “Preferably before she sees us coming. (My poor skin…it still itches.) I wasn’t aware that druids shared paladinic foolish notions about ‘fighting honorably’. Those we encountered on the way certainly weren’t so inhibited.” 

“You do not understand,” Jaheira said. “Faldorn is the leader of the Grove. She must be formally challenged, according to the ancient tradition, or the other druids will not accept that she was at fault. And it is worse…”

“Worse?” Anomen asked. “How so, lady Jaheira? Does this druid harness the powers of the Abyss itself?”

“No,” the druid grimly replied. “The forces of nature, and of the Grove. She has done something to this place…harnessed its powers for her own evil purposes. She will be very dangerous.”

“Whoa, whoa!” Zaerini protested, grasping Jaheira by the arm. “You’re saying that she’ll be incredibly dangerous and that you want to fight her alone? Jaheira…don’t do this!” She sounded really frantic by now. “You don’t have to do this.”

_Ah, Gorion…your child has a warm heart. You would be pleased._ “But I do have to do it, child,” Jaheira said, her voice firm, but softer than usual. “You know that I do. I am a druid, and this is part of my duties. Faldorn betrays everything a druid is supposed to be, and I would be betraying myself if I stepped aside now. You understand that, do you not?”

The younger half-elf looked at her for a few moments, then gave her a brief hug, her face determined beneath her wildly tangled red hair. “Yes…I guess so. I don’t like it, but I understand. Just…just be careful all right?”

Jaheira nodded. “Of course, child. And now, let us go. It is time.” 

-*-

Faldorn knelt by the sacred spring, breathing deeply. The battle had weakened her a little, she would need more power, and the Mother would supply her with it, straight from the source. It seemed a little more difficult to draw it forth lately, but that would pass, she was certain. 

_It is all these filthy city people; they weaken the Mother with their ‘civilization’ and their cities. They will pay, soon they will all pay._ Trademeet would only be the beginning. Once that little blight on Nature had been wiped out, then the Grove would be strengthened, she was certain of it. Yes, even stronger than before. _And then, Athkatla, that festering sore of a city. How I will laugh will joy as its streets are purged. The wild beasts will roam freely in the ruins, the weeds and flowers will cover everything, and soon you will not even be able to guess that it once stood there._

Faldorn gasped with pleasure as the power rushed into her, filling her completely. Yes, she was powerful, far more powerful than she could ever have imagined. Truly, the Mother favored her. She would succeed in her plans, she knew it. _Once Athkatla is gone, I will serve Nature further. One by one, the cities will fall, and all will be well, as it should be._

But first, there was this little matter to take care of. These…adventurers. And one of them a so-called druid, though she traveled with city vermin, even calling them ‘friends’. _Traitor. She is a weakling, and a betrayer. She will pay for her atrocities against Nature, against the Grove. She will pay for daring to try to interfere with my sacred war._ The other one was strong, yes. But she didn’t have the power of the Grove behind her, to back her up. She would undoubtedly fall, and that would be the end of it. 

The Shadow Druid smiled, as she contemplated her plan. Yes, let the fools come. She was well prepared for them. She would be happy to welcome them, and then she would teach them all what a True Druid was. She rose, and faced the cave opening. There were voices there, coming closer. 

“Yes,” she murmured, thinking of the seeds she had planted earlier, in preparation for the battle ahead. “Come then, traitor. It is time.” 

-*-

There was an odd tang to the air, Zaerini thought. It felt almost electrically charged, as if lightning had just struck. It made her skin tingle. The interior of the cave was fairly large, and there was a soft green light illuminating the way of the adventurers as they made their way further inside. She could hear the bubbling sound of running water too, soothing and relaxing. However, she seriously doubted that whatever awaited them inside would be relaxing at all. She could remember the previous encounter with Faldorn all too well. _Shadow Druids. Crazy people, trying to destroy all of civilization. Should we all live in caves then, and dress in animal skins? Probably not wash either, from what I remember of Faldorn. Total nutter, that woman. And Jaheira means to fight her alone…_ The half-elf nervously bit her lip. She was worried about her friend, seriously worried. Jaheira was a powerful druid of course, but it seemed that Faldorn had access to strange gifts at the moment, powers beyond those of any regular druid. Jaheira still wasn’t certain exactly what the Shadow Druid had done, only that it was dangerous. _She’d better be careful, that’s all I say. I’ve lost enough friends, I won’t lose her too._

Now she could see the water, a crystal-clear stream pouring out of the cliff wall, collecting in a small but deep pool. It was funny…the water was so clear that she should have been able to see the bottom of the pool clearly, but for some reason she couldn’t. The water simply went on and on and staring into it was enough to make her head spin. Jaheira bent down next to the pool, gathering a little water into her hands, sniffing it gingerly and then tasting it. “The source…” she said. “Something is interfering with the holy fount, the center of the Grove. It has to be…”

Low and rasping laughter drifted towards the adventurers out of the mist floating above and around the pool, and then there was a female shape walking towards her. Zaerini stared at the woman heading for her, her mouth slightly open with surprise. She recognized Faldorn all right, from the tangled brown hair that probably hadn’t seen a comb in years, to the cold and fanatical look in her eyes. This time Faldorn wasn’t dirty, however. Instead there was water streaming off her hair and body, as if she had just stepped out of the pool. Her worn brown tunic was completely soaked, and her bare legs were glistening. She looked thinner than before too, almost half-starved, but still more powerful than Rini remembered her. Something about the way she moved, as if she were a queen in her castle. “Well, what have we here?” Faldorn said with a contemptuous sneer. “Some fool come to stop the righteous force of nature? Laughable. Say what you must and then we shall purge the earth of your filth.”

“Hey, Faldorn, don’t be a stranger now!” the bard said and flashed the other woman a quick grin, much like the display of a bared blade. “You know us, we beat you up once before, or did you get so badly thrashed that you’ve suffered a memory lapse? And speaking of purging, I’m happy to see you’ve finally got around to taking a bath. That would be the first in, what…ten years or so? I’m surprised you lived through the shock.” 

“I recall you, little gnat,” Faldorn scoffed. “You do not interest me. Begone, and you may live yet a while, before the nature's wrath catches up with you and your wicked city ways.” 

Zaerini was just about to reply to this, when she found herself gently pushed aside. Jaheira was stepping forward, a steely look in her green eyes, and when she spoke her voice was as biting as the north wind. “Do you also remember me, cur?” the half-elven druid spoke. “You ran from me once, with your tail between your legs as the dog you are. I will see you run again, or else dead for what you have done here.” The druid’s teeth were bared in a snarl now, and she was gripping her staff tightly. “I have sensed what you have done here, Shadow Druid. You are draining this place of life, using it for your own twisted purposes. You have perverted the plants and animals, forcing them into senseless attacks against the people of Trademeet, causing much death and pain on both sides. You will not be allowed to continue with these atrocities.” Her voice was even stronger now and held a clear challenge. “I make claim that you are an affront to all nature. You are a disruption that will not be allowed, and I will fight with the power of my faith and conviction.”

Faldorn laughed again, her eyes gleaming with triumph. “Poor, pitiful traitor. I am stronger than ever with the aid of this grove. No harm can come to me here. Such bonding is frowned upon as it drains energy from the earth, but the mother feeds me that I might fight for her!”

Jaheira’s eyes didn’t leave those of the other druid for a second. “That is not so. You are starving the earth, whether you know it or not, perverting the life forces of all the creatures of this swamp. Yet the old rituals still rule this place, for without them your rule is empty and signifies nothing. If you dare not meet my challenge, and meet it on equal terms, then all your followers will know you for the weakling coward that you are. I will not have this place remain in your 'care'! By the great mother, you will not leave the duel alive!”

Faldorn was still smiling, her hands confidently resting on her hips. “You are mistaken, of course. I revel in the combat of the rituals, and I welcome the chance to end your miserable existence. Come, to your death!”

The ritual battleground was basically a wide pit, with smooth and high walls all around it. None other than the two combatants were allowed inside, and they were also allowed no weapons or armor other than a plain quarterstaff. Rini watched as Jaheira silently stripped her armor off, finally standing there in only her plain green tunic and brown leggings. Even her feet were bare. The druid carefully checked her hair, securing some of the small braids in it, so that they wouldn’t get into her eyes as she fought, and then flexed her muscles several times before picking the quarterstaff up. She weighed it in her hands, checking the balance of it, then swung it experimentally through the air a couple of times. 

Faldorn was watching idly from the other side of the pit, a small and satisfied smile on her lips. 

_I don’t like this_ , Rini thought. _She seems far too confident. I bet she’s planning to cheat somehow, but Jaheira will never back off. If only I could help…_

_You can’t interfere with the fight itself_ , Softpaws said from her perch on the bard’s shoulder, rubbing her head against Rini’s neck. _She would never let you._

_I know. And I won’t. But if Faldorn tries anything…then I’ll do what I’ll have to do. I’d rather have Jaheira mad at me than have her dead, after all._

_That is the best way, kitten. You think first, you do what you have to do, and then you deal with the results. Me, I rather look forward to this. The druid is skilled in a fight, I will enjoy seeing her shed some blood. Females always fight more viciously than males, you know._

_I didn’t know that – but I believe you._

And now the two combatants were stepping into the pit, glaring at each other across the expanse of tightly packed earth that separated them. There was no signal given, but something passed between the two women, a challenge met and answered, and then the fight was on. At once a metallic sheen sprung up around Jaheira's body, a protective outer layer of skin, as hard as iron. Faldorn did the same, and then followed up with another spell. A burning sword appeared in her hand, composed entirely of flickering flames, and she lunged for Jaheira in a savage attack. Jaheira brought her staff up to meet it, but the magical sword burned clear through it, and forced her to leap aside, her weapon cloven into two useless stumps. 

"Fool woman, your staff is broken!" Faldorn mocked. "You may as well give up." 

Jaheira didn't answer. Instead she dodged another swipe from the burning sword, rolling away to the other side of the pit, and then sprang to her feet again, her arms stretched out in front of her. As she chanted a spell of her own an orange light appeared between her outspread fingers, and then coalesced into a vaguely humanoid shape, a being of pure fire. The fire elemental hissed, and then headed for Faldorn, causing the Shadow Druid to retreat in turn. "I need no staff to beat you, Shadow Druid," Jaheira said, her voice low and husky. "I will be pleased to strangle you with my bare hands." 

Faldorn was warily backing away from the elemental, but she hardly seemed in a mood to give up. "I think not," she said. "But since you mention strangling…I took the liberty of preparing a special little surprise for you." She raised her voice, and it rang out like the hunting call of a bird of prey, a falcon perhaps. "Rise to serve me, spirit of the swamp! Rise to serve me, oh Great Old One! Your seed is strong, and it is planted deeply. Rise, and crush my foe!" 

There was a deep rumbling sound coming from the ground. The dirt floor of the fighting pit trembled, then shook. And then it erupted outwards, as a creature three times the size of a large bear climbed out of it. It had two arms, two legs, and a head, but apart from that it didn't look particularly human. A strong smell of rotting vegetation emanated from it, which wasn't all that surprising, given that it seemed to be a form of plant, rather than an animal, and it even had some leaves and vines hanging off it in places. The head was fairly flat, with no neck whatsoever, the wide mouth lacked teeth, and there were no obvious eyes, though they might have been hidden beneath the odd ridges that covered the forehead. It had long arms that practically dragged on the ground like those of a gorilla, and enormous fists. 

"Oh my…" Jan breathed. "That sure does look like Swamp Turnip…I had no idea my relative lived in these parts. Think some Jansen family values still live inside that green body of his?"

"I doubt it," Edwina said, not taking her eyes off the thing. "That beast was never a gnome. It is a Shambling Mound. Very dangerous plant-creature. Weapons have little effect on it, it is so wet that it is partially resistant to fire and it isn't very vulnerable to cold either." 

"Lightning?" Rini asked, her heart in her mouth as she watched Jaheira dodge a blow from one of those big fists. 

"Only makes it grow larger, I'm afraid. (I learned that to my sorrow in a memorable game of Wizard in the Dungeon…and my poor character had almost reached level 20 too…)"

Down in the fighting pit, Jaheira agilely dodged again, rolling swiftly between the legs of the Shambling Mound to come up on the other side. The fire elemental was attacking the larger beast by now, but not faring too well. Its flames did little or no harm, and it took only two blows to make it scream and collapse into nothing, its fire extinguished as it returned to its own plane. "Shadow Druid!" Jaheira cried out. "You have broken the law of the Challenge, that spell must be prepared in advance! You planted that seed as soon as you knew I was coming, did you not?"

"Of course I did," Faldorn replied, her voice indifferent. "And I rule here…the law is what I say it is." 

"That is not so, and I will show it to you!" 

"Bah! You will be dead in moments, traitor. You are alone against a Shambling Mound, there is nothing you can do." She barked out a few commands to the hulking plant creature, and it lurched after Jaheira again, obeying the will of its summoner. 

_All right, that does it_ , Rini thought. _Faldorn is obviously cheating, so I don't think even Jaheira can blame me for evening the odds out a little. At least I can give her more room to attack._

"Hey, Faldorn!" she cried out. "Since you hate people so much, why don't you take Plant Guy down there for your new boyfriend? All you need to do is water him to keep him growing, and you'll soon have dozens of little homicidal sprouts popping out!" 

Faldorn twisted her head around, glaring at the bard. "What did you say?"

"Of course," Zaerini went on, "you probably can't match his intellectual capacity, and he does smell better than you. Quite frankly you remind me of a dead rat, both in looks and olfactory sensations. I'd rather see this place ruled by a cockroach than by you, you fanatical flower freak. Though perhaps I shouldn't worry, your actions so far have really made everybody within miles hate you and all druids, and there are far more non-druids than there are druids in the world…but I guess counting beyond the number of your fingers and toes is beyond you. How much would that be, anyway? Twelve or so, you inbred offspring of village idiots? You may want to close your mouth now, you'll start drooling any second, and considering the state of your teeth I don't doubt that your spit is corrosive…"

Faldorn really was standing there with her mouth open, her face turning redder and redder at the steady stream of rapid insults. The Shambling Mound hesitated, looking confused as her control over it slackened a bit. That was when Jaheira struck. Under her breath, she muttered a complex spell, and as she finished it off a sickly green light emanated from her fingertips, striking the Shambling Mound straight in the chest. It shuddered violently, grunted with pain and clawed at its chest with its large hands, as if in great pain. 

"No!" Faldorn cried out as the large green humanoid staggered towards her, its heavy feet making wet, slurping noises. "NO!" 

The Shambling Mound opened its mouth in a soundless scream, and then it toppled, decomposing even as it fell, rotting plant matter falling in on itself. Faldorn's final scream was cut off as the mound of compost landed on top of her, effectively drowning her. The remnants of a plant leg twitched a few times, and then it too dissolved. 

"She is gone," Jaheira said once a couple of minutes of silence had passed. She stared at the still lightly quivering mound of compost; her face intensely focused. "I can no longer sense any life within. And the strain upon the Grove is gone…this place will return to normal now." She shook her head. "A filthy death…but she brought it upon herself, literally." 

"But what spell was that?" Anomen asked. "How did you bring the beast down?"

"A spell of decomposition…the creature had rot at its core already. I simply sped up the process."

"Oh, a great battle, a very great battle!" Minsc cheered. "You fought bravely, Boo says, and now that the Evil Druid is all gone, the poor little animals will be free, yes?"

Jaheira nodded. Then she smiled briefly at Rini. "Thank you, child. I could likely have dealt with her anyway, but your distraction made it easier. Well done. You certainly have a - way with words."

The half-elf smiled back at her friend, and then happened to turn her head to see Edwina watching her with a starry look in her eyes and a dreamy smile on her face. "Oh yes..." the wizard murmured. "She certainly does…"


	70. Statues

**Cards Reshuffled 70 – Statues**

_The truly skilled artist will depict more than just the facial features of his model. He'll bring out the inner self, the heart and soul of the person portrayed. Sometimes Art makes a perfect mimicry of Life - and that may be enough to make Life imitate Art._

_Excerpt from 'Ruminations Of A Master Bard'_

Heroes. The word made Edwina wince inwardly every time she thought of it. ‘The Heroes of Trademeet’. This was, what, the fifth city? Heroes of Nashkel, Gullykin, Beregost, Baldur’s Gate and now this. It was turning into an embarrassing habit, and she didn’t really want to think about what her teacher would say should he get wind of it. Still, that was a very minor worry compared to the rest of her concerns. _I’m never going to turn back to normal, am I? And I’m never going to get around to telling Zaerini how I really feel about her. Eventually she’ll give up on me and waltz off with Anomen, I know it. And I can’t blame her. She deserves better than a miserable excuse for a wizard who can’t even turn back to the proper gender. I’m worthless, aren’t I? Completely worthless._

Edwina paced back and forth across the floor of the small room that had been secured for her in the Trademeet Inn. The adventurers no longer needed to sneak into the town, oh no. Not after the death of Faldorn, the restoration of the druid grove and the appeasement of the genies. That was a small consolation though. She paused before the mirror on the wall, and sighed. Yes, still female. She knew she wouldn’t miraculously be restored to normal, and yet she couldn’t help hoping, couldn’t help checking. In fact, she’d found herself getting more and more obsessed with mirrors, hoping against hope that one of them would finally show her the face that should be looking back at her. Not this time though. The female face that stared out of the mirror looked pale and a little too thin, the dark eyes far more brooding than normal. Edwina blinked. How odd…for a second, she’d thought the face reminded her of somebody, but she didn’t know who. Well, it wasn’t as if it mattered. She sat down on the bed, staring gloomily into the floor. _I can’t take any more humiliations. Bad enough that everybody sees me like this. Bad enough with the looks, and the comments. But why, oh why did they have to come up with the idea of those blasted statues, that degrading monument to my misery? Why?_

She sighed again. She didn’t really want to be around other people, but if she wanted to get drunk, she’d have to go downstairs. And she wanted…no, she _needed_ to get drunk. If that was the only way to forget the disgusting statue that would be awaiting her in the morning, then she meant to get drunk out of her skull. _I just want it to stop. Please…please._

-*-

Meanwhile, Zaerini was hurrying through the streets of Trademeet, in a very good mood. Finally, finally things were going to be all right. Finally. _Poor Edwina…if this doesn’t convince her about how I really feel about her, then I don’t know what will. But it will. The cards told me, after all. The Three of Coins, coupled with the Lovers. And they said it would happen after we’d dealt with Temperance. Temperance, that’s the druids and their balance, and it was balancing life and death, just like they do. Except Faldorn tried to tip the balance. Well, Jaheira dealt with her nicely. And now it’s time for the Three of Coins…and then…_

The Three of Coins glowed inside her mind; she could visualize the card perfectly. A sculptor, a master craftsman, working on a group of statues. In her vision, the statues had been indistinct, faceless. But now they wouldn’t be. Now they’d bear very familiar faces indeed. _And it’ll be just perfect. The genies owe me, after all._

The bard thought back to the moment this morning when the head of the rakshasa Ihtafeer had been delivered to the genies and smiled as she remembered it. Khan Zahraa had been extremely pleased. 

_Ahhhh... I sense that you possess the head of our little Ihtafeer with you, as agreed! Astounding, even for a mortal! The genie’s teeth had glittered as he smiled at her. Then he took the head, bending open the mouth, and finally pried out one of the wickedly curved teeth. Aha…here we are!_

_A tooth?_ Rini had felt pretty much incredulous. _All that effort, just for a tooth?_

_This is not a simple old tooth, little mortal. Watch._ The Dao had cracked the tooth in two, and a black stone emerged, smooth and shiny. _A great part of my power is hidden in this stone, little mortal. Ihtafeer managed to steal it, but that tale is a long one, we have business to attend to on our own plane. Fortunately, she never learned to use it properly._

He pressed the stone against his own forehead, and it melted through the skin, disappearing entirely and leaving an unblemished surface behind. _Now that I have my full powers, we will return home. But first, your reward, little mortal. What do you wish for?_

Zaerini hadn’t even needed to think about it. Nor had she needed to see the heartbreakingly pleading look in Edwina’s eyes, painfully obvious despite the wizard’s best efforts to hide it. _I would like you to turn Edwina back to normal, and give her back her regular body_ , she had said. _Can you do this?_

The genie had looked truly regretful as he shook his head. _I can see the spell, but I cannot undo it. I am powerful, but my power lies in earth, stone and metal, and the illusion of life. Not in life itself. I cannot grant your wish, so I will give you something else instead._ He briskly clapped his hands. _I and my servants will create a monument in this town, a monument to you and your friends. Magical statues of such detail as no human sculptor could produce, celebrating you and your friends, little mortal. Such attention may well make you famous enough to attract somebody who does know how to grant your wish._

_But…_

_Go to the fountain tonight, little mortal. The statues will be ready by then._

It was then that she had had her idea, her brilliant idea that had flashed through her brain like a bolt of lightning. Her heart had bled as she watched hope die in Edwina’s eyes, being replaced by a shaky attempt at indifference, but now she knew what to do at least. It was a last resort, but she was almost certain it would work. _Just a moment_ , she had said. _Before you start on the statues, I would like to have a word with you. In private._

-*-

“Ah, what a vision of seductive loveliness! Eyes as smoldering as hot coal…and skin like purest silk! Tell me, my beauty, how about you and I retiring to have a little word…in private?” 

Edwina raised her head at the sound of the ingratiating and oily voice. She’d been happy to see that none of her companions were present in the common room, which meant she could proceed to get drunk with no interruptions. She had a large pitcher in front of her, filled with an odd local drink called ‘Granny’s Special’. Bending too closely over it made her eyes water though, so she hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to get started. _And now this. Is there no privacy anywhere?_ There was an elf sitting on the barstool next to her, and she gritted her teeth as she realized that he was bending forward and scrutinizing her bosom with an open leer on his face. The man was even drooling! _I was never that pathetic. No. I’m sure I wasn’t._

“If you wish to keep your tongue, you will retract it into your mouth at once, you slithering eel!” she snarled, moving aside a few inches. 

The elf didn’t seem to get the message though. “The eel…” he mused. “Oh yes, Salvanas can be an eel! I will slither about your bountiful form, and my tongue…” He winked at her. “My tongue will go wherever you want it to.” 

It took a few seconds for Edwina to process this, during which time Salvanas babbled something about how fortunate he’d been to encounter such a ‘passionate beauty’ here in Trademeet, having been banned from the Copper Coronet by ‘that prissy Hendak’ for bothering the female customers. 

“Stay away from me,” Edwina said in a low voice. “I will not warn you again.” 

If Salvanas had looked her in the eyes, he probably would have backed off. He was obnoxious after all, not suicidal. However, his gaze was still firmly fixed elsewhere. “Aha!” he exclaimed. “I see, you want a chase, my hot little Plaything of Passion! Salvanas will be happy to oblige. Let me heat you up a little further! And then you’ll get to play with _my_ toys…” He waggled his eyebrows at the wizard, and then he put his hand on her thigh, gradually inching upwards. 

Salvanas’ scream nearly brought the roof down, and he fell off his chair, batting furiously at his crotch area trying to put the flames out. “That was a ‘Burning Hands’ spell,” she said in a voice that sounded eerily calm to her own ears, despite the raging turmoil of her soul. “When it comes to ‘heating people up’, there is nobody who beats me.” 

The elf kept screaming, and his thrashing grew even wilder as the smell of burning flesh permeated the bar. “Not hot enough for you?” Edwina asked, still in that distant and cold voice. The tone sounded oddly familiar somehow, but she didn’t have the time to think about it right now. _I’ll teach him not to harass me._ “Let me help you then.”

With a swift movement she upended the pitcher of ‘Granny’s Special’ over the flames. There was a soft ‘FOOOM’ sound, a flash of white light, and then the screams stopped. So did Salvanas. “Would you look at that,” she murmured, kicking the charred corpse aside. “Strong drink really is hazardous to your health. And so is stupidity.” She stomped up the stairs, in an even blacker mood than before, and didn’t even feel cheered by the scattered applause coming from the various female customers, and some of the male ones. It was a small consolation. _Is this to be my lot in life forever more? Being bothered by repulsive idiots who were last in line when the brains were handed out? Certainly, I can deal with them…but…I’m so tired of having to. So tired…_

This time she locked the door after her. What was the point, really, when you thought about it? Things wouldn’t get better; she knew that now. If anything, they would get worse. Edwina sat down on the floor, leaning her head against her knees. There was nowhere left to turn, nowhere left to run. She was trapped, imprisoned inside this body that wasn’t her own, and in that moment, she was certain that it would last for the rest of her life. And then she raised her head, and saw the dagger lying on the table. 

It was only very lightly enchanted, but still well balanced and very sharp. An emergency weapon. A last resort, as her teacher had told her more than once. A wizard should always have at least one regular weapon handy, for those times when spells simply wouldn’t do the job. _And this is one of those times. A last resort…_ Edwina got to her feet, and smiled dreamily as she picked the dagger up, running her finger along the sharp edge. There was a stinging pain, and a few drops of blood emerged. Red. Very red. Pretty red. Like her robe, actually. She sat down at the table, watching the blood, her face solemn.

_I was wrong before. Killing Anomen wouldn’t help at all. I only thought that because I lost my temper. Besides, my Hellkitten would get upset with me. But now I see clearly. Now I see it all. If I can’t fix this, if I can’t dispel the curse, then I can at least end it. Yes. I will end it, once and for all. I’m so tired, but at least I finally am in my right mind. A last resort. Of course, Teacher Dekaras was right about that. I hope…I hope he’ll forgive me eventually. At least I won’t have to explain to him about how stupid I was._

_Boss?_ Insufferable’s voice sounded shrill with panic, as the monkey jumped off the pillow where he had been taking a nap. _Boss, NO!_

Edwina smiled a sad smile. _I’m sorry, Suffy. But I can’t do this anymore. She’ll take good care of you, I’m sure. And tell her…tell her that I love her._

_BOSS!_

The dagger came down. 

-*-

When Zaerini came inside, the first thing she spotted was the charred and twisted corpse on the floor. A few scattered remarks, most of them highly impressed, the rest of them frightened, told her everything she needed to know. _Edwina…oh no._ She ran up the stairs two steps at a time, a terrible anxiety making her stomach roil and her throat constrict painfully. _Please be all right…please be all right._ There were tears in her eyes by the time she reached the door she wanted, and finding it closed and locked made her want to scream. There was no answer to her frantic knocking either. 

_Don’t have the time to find Jan to pick the lock…and don’t have the time to find Minsc to break the door open._ Then inspiration struck her, and she started casting a spell, her words almost stumbling over each other. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she felt a flood of strength fill her body, a temporary boost that would enable her to wrestle an ogre, at least for a few minutes. She only needed to kick the door a single time in order for it to fly open. Then she stopped in her tracks, her face frozen with horror. “Edwina…” 

-*-

Edwina startled guiltily as she saw who had just come through the door. _Didn't I lock it? I could have sworn I locked it._ "Ah, my Hellkitten! I was only…er…" 

Zaerini bolted across the floor, got down on her knees next to the seated wizard and roughly grabbed her hand. "Edwina, thank the gods you're all right!" She bent forward. "What…how did you manage to impale your dagger through the sleeve of your robe? You're stuck to the table! And what's this?" Slender fingers took hold of Edwina's other hand, making the wizard tremble a little. "You're bleeding…and what's this? Bitemarks?"

Edwina felt herself flushing brightly. As keen as she had been on ending her existence a few moments ago, admitting it in front of the woman she loved was something she was very reluctant to do. "Er…I think Insufferable must have got overly excited about something." 

_OVERLY EXCITED? Boss, you were trying to kill yourself! If I hadn't bitten you, you'd currently be bleeding to death on the floor._ The little monkey was currently sitting on the very arm he had bitten, and now he crossed his own arms across his tiny and fluffy chest and glared disapprovingly at the wizard. _Either you tell her the truth, or I will._

_No! I don't want her to find out! She'll just get worried._

_Oh, well, you should have thought of that before, shouldn't you? And how do you think she'd have felt if she'd found your corpse in here, huh? She'd have been more than just 'worried'. Now tell her._

Zaerini's golden eyes were staring directly into Edwina's own now, and they were filled with not only concern, but also deep compassion and sadness. "Oh Edwina…you can tell me the truth; don't you know that? You meant to…kill yourself, didn't you?"

Silently and quite miserably, she nodded, staring into the tabletop. To her horror, she felt her eyes brimming over with hot tears, and a small sob escaped her. "Yes," she said in a small voice, almost unrecognisable. "It was that elf downstairs…and the genies…I don't think I will ever turn back to normal, I'll be stuck like this for the rest of my life, with people laughing at me, or groping, or…or making disgusting comments!" Another sob or two, and she swallowed heavily. "And those _stupid_ statues! Now anybody who passes through Trademeet will see my humiliation, as if it wasn't bad enough before! I am so tired of it all, I just want it to end. And the worst of it…" She paused, afraid to go on. But she'd already embarrassed herself. She might as well continue. "The worst of it," she whispered, "is that as long as I'm in this body you will never…I mean, we will never…you won't want…and anyway, you deserve the _real_ me." 

The wizard jumped a little as the half-elf jerked the dagger free of her robe, and then slammed it down hard so that it buried itself in the tabletop. "Don't you ever dare kill yourself because of what you _think_ that I think!" she growled, and her eyes were blazing dangerously. "Or kill yourself at all, for that matter! Or…or I'll be really mad at you, you silly wizard." Then her face softened, shifting expression with quicksilver speed, and she smiled, her eyes filled with tenderness. Edwina barely had time to gasp before she felt the other woman's arms around her neck, the silky sweep of her red hair tickling her nose and the softness of her cheek against her own. "Oh Edwina," Zaerini sighed. "I'm so relieved you're all right. I was so worried…and I'm so sorry I didn't realize exactly how upset and unhappy you were. I should have pressured you more, but I was afraid to."

"It wasn't your fault!" Edwina immediately replied. Her eyes were still wet, but her heart was beating faster, and there was a fluttery and trembling sensation in the pit of her stomach. Her arms were entirely filled with the woman of her dreams, and she didn't want the moment to ever end. "I was so ashamed; I didn't want to talk to anybody about it. Even to you, my Hellkitten. I would never blame you for this. I know you have tried to help as much as you can." 

The bard laughed a little. "Oh…well, that's why I came up here in the first place, actually. I'm afraid I still don't know how to turn you back, but there's something I really think you ought to see. Unless I'm entirely wrong, it'll help you feel better. It'll mean going outside, but it's not far."

"Outside? But…"

"Not far, I promise. And it’s getting late, nobody will see us. And it won't take long." Zaerini smiled mischievously, her eyes sparkling as if she was laughing about some private joke. "You'd see it tomorrow anyway, but I really want us to go take a look at it first, just the two of us. You'll see why. Please?" 

Edwina nodded, hesitantly. "Very well," she said. "I will come." _For you, I would travel to the Abyss itself on a regular basis._

A few minutes later, the two women were walking in silence through the neat streets of Trademeet, passing by prosperous villas and shops at every turn. There were flowerbeds too, and trees planted here and there along the road. Even the cobblestones were brightly coloured and set in decorative patterns, and the lampposts were ornate. As Edwina noticed in which direction they were heading, she felt reluctance creep in. "The main square?" she asked. "No, I really don't want to look at that fountain. Not to mention the no doubt hideously deformed statue. No, I'm going back." 

A firm hand gripping her sleeve made the wizard almost trip and fall as she tried to turn around. "Edwina…" Zaerini said, her eyes serious. "Trust me on this, all right? You know I would never try to hurt you, don't you?"

_No. She would never do that. Never. No more than I would want to hurt her._

_Finally we're getting somewhere, Boss_ , Insufferable piped up from his place in Edwina's pocket. _Now go on, talk to her. You're well on your way to mating here, you know._

_That's not what I was thinking about!_

_Liar._

"Yes," Edwina said, nodding, and the smile that made the other woman's eyes lit up was enough to make her feel as giddy as any child getting a special birthday present. "I trust you. I will come." 

"Good…now close your eyes and take my hand. And don't open them until I say you can." 

Edwina had never been particularly good at patience. Well, in some respects she was infinitely patient, such as when it came to digging through a library for interesting scrolls, or sewing up the perfect robe, or coming up with the perfect insult to make Anomen's nosehairs curl. But patiently awaiting a surprise, that wasn't her strong suit, and it was only with great difficulty that she managed to keep her eyes closed. _What could she possibly have done? Well, whatever it is, she did it…for me. Perhaps…_

"Go on!" Zaerini suddenly said, her voice tense with excitement. "Open them!" 

Edwina opened her eyes and saw the large fountain that decorated the main square of Trademeet. Moonlight glittered like silver in the water and made the marble statues that had been erected around the base of the fountain seem almost frighteningly alive as it played across their stone features. Amazing, that those genies could work so fast. She studied the statues, dreading the moment when she would have to lay eyes upon a giant marble version of her own female form, complete with swelling bosom and curvy hips. There was Minsc, grinning triumphantly and holding his sword aloft. He even had a miniature stone version of Boo sitting on his shoulder. There was Anomen, gazing proudly down at the onlooker like a king on his throne. _Stupid, arrogant, puffed up, pompous Helmite. I bet he won't be able to tear himself apart from his stupid statue when he sees it._ And there was Jan, holding a turnip aloft, and the genies had somehow managed to capture that annoying twinkle in his eyes that meant he was about to launch into another insipid story. And Jaheira, with a small smile on her lips as she rested her foot upon the fallen form of what had to be Faldorn. She didn't look too bad, Edwina had to admit, now that she was silent. Then…oh yes, there was her Hellkitten. _Perfect. Just perfect._ There seemed to be a wind stirring her marble hair, and she was somehow sparkling, vibrating with life and energy and pure mischief. _So beautiful._ Then Edwina noticed something, something she hadn't seen at first. Zaerini's statue wasn't looking straight ahead like the others. Rather it was looking towards its right side, and as she followed the gaze of the statue, her mouth slowly dropped open, and her eyes widened with surprise. 

There it was. The statue of herself, the statue she had been dreading to see. But it wasn't a statue of her current form, the female body she was trapped in. No, it was a statue of her old body, its every feature so familiar it made her heart ache with longing. Perfect body. Perfect face. Perfect and utterly magnificently groomed beard. _I knew I looked wonderful, but I didn't know I was that stunning._ And this statue also had its head and its eyes turned to one side, watching the statue of Zaerini. They were smiling at each other, looking into each other’s eyes, and she just had time to see that there was a hint of two stone hands reaching out for each other before she felt a soft and very live hand wrap itself against her own, its fingers entwining with hers. 

"What…" Edwina said, her legs trembling as she grasped the offered hand almost convulsively. "I don't understand…"

Her Hellkitten was smiling at her now, a radiant smile that outshone even that of the statue, and she was blushing a little. "Come on," she said, pulling the unresisting Edwina along with her. "I think we should sit down for a bit." Once they were both seated on the fountain, right by the stone feet of their own statues, the half-elf cleared her throat. "I asked the genies to do that," she said swiftly and rather nervously. "I think it turned out really well, don't you?"

"Yes…but why?"

Zaerini looked if possible even more nervous by now, and she was fidgeting as if she found it difficult to sit still. "Well, I thought about telling you, but I figured that since you were so down you probably wouldn't listen to me anyway, and that it would be better to show you this way." Her face turned very serious, and her lips were trembling a little. "The statue up there…that is how _I_ see you. I just wanted you to know…no matter what you might look like on the outside, that is who you are to me. Who you will always be to me." She took a deep breath. "The person that I love, and whom I think I have loved ever since the moment when he first ran into me back in Nashkel, almost knocking me out."

"Hold on there!" Edwina protested. "It was you who ran into me and weren't watching where you were going and…" Then her brain finally caught up with what her ears had heard. "And…" She stared into the glittering golden eyes of the half-elf, feeling as if her body was suddenly on fire and her mind had ground to a complete halt. "Mgplp? Fffnx? Prlp…"

_Go on Boss!_ Insufferable urged. _Do something now, or she'll think you don't feel the same way about her!_

_But my tongue has gone numb! I can't get a word out!_

_Who cares about words! You know what to do, so do it!_

And Edwina did. She felt a wide smile spreading across her face, and then, before she knew it, she was already wrapping her arms about the smaller woman, whose body fitted perfectly against hers. And now she was bending her face down, still looking into the beautiful eyes of her Hellkitten, half-closed with pleasure. Soft lips against hers, and she put everything she felt into the kiss, her mind a wild blaze of joy and desire. Soft…so soft, and yet so hungry, so eager. She heard a soft moan. Was it her? Or her loved one? Or perhaps both? She didn't know, and at this point she didn't really care. She could feel those clever hands running through her hair, toying with the dark strands. Her own were exploring the soft curve of a gently pointed ear, the angle of the cheekbone, and then they trailed downwards, along the slim neck and on towards new territory. _Is this really real? It is! IT IS! She loves me, and I love her, and it's for real!_ "Oh, my Hellkitten," she breathed, her voice husky. "You have no idea…how long I have longed for this." She intensified her caresses a little. "And I want you to know…I really do l…" She leaned in closer.

"Aaagh!" Edwina screamed as the combined excitement of the two women took its toll and they both lost their balance, toppling backwards. Still clinging to each other they fell and landed in the fountain with a loud splash. 

Edwina sat up, shivering and coughing, and feeling rather disoriented. The water was cold, and it made her robe smear itself very tightly against her body. As she looked up, she could see the male version of herself grinning down at her. He seemed annoyingly amused, she thought. Then, however, she looked at the woman sharing the water with her, and her breath caught. Zaerini was just as wet as she was of course. Water was streaming in small rivulets from her red hair, making it seem almost black in the moonlight, and down towards her pale shoulders, clearly visible through her shirt. Said garment was wet enough that other parts of her anatomy were also very visible, and the sight was enough to make Edwina feel a surge of desire so strong that it was almost painful. The half-elf was laughing brightly, and the sound was like the most beautiful of music to Edwina's ears. 

"Ooops," Zaerini said. "Guess I should have chosen a bench instead, huh? But then again, I suppose this is our fountain…and that we can do whatever we want with it." 

"Indeed, we can," Edwina said, smiling in return as she once again took her beloved into her arms, rejoicing at the feel of the half-elf's body against hers, totally ignoring the streams of water pouring over them. She planted another lingering kiss on the bard's neck, her one hand encircling her waist while the other rubbed along her back. "But not for too long…I wouldn't want the woman I love to catch pneumonia. (Since I am perfect in every other way, it only makes sense that I should take perfect care of her. Anything else is unthinkable.)"

"Yes but…what did you say?"

"That I am perfect?"

"I _know_ you are perfect, Eddie. Before that?"

"Oh." Edwina hesitated, but only for a moment or two. "I love you," she said. "I love you as I have loved nobody else. I never knew it was even possible to feel this way, you know. But I do. I am obsessed, smitten, bewitched and completely taken with you, my Hellkitten. I love you, and I think I have done so for a very long time, though I didn't realize it at first." 

_You could say that._

_Be silent, Suffy. Do not interrupt me here. Oh well, I think another kiss might be in order. It's very addictive, I haven't kissed her for half a minute and I'm already abstinent._

A few minutes of very enjoyable silence followed. Then voices could once again be heard from the fountain.

"Actually, I'm sure I loved you far before you loved me."

"No way! I loved you first, while you were still doing your best to insult me with every sentence."

"My dear, that is because I by far outclass you when insults are concerned. And you enjoy our sparring, don't bother denying it. Anyway, I loved you first, and with my well-schooled mind it didn't take me long to figure it out."

"So why didn't you tell me before then?"

"Er…I felt you needed time to adjust to the thought of being adored and worshipped by such a dazzling creature as myself! I didn't want you to be too overwhelmed."

"Oh, sure. There I was pining away, with you completely oblivious. Well, all right, I didn't have much time to pine since Sarevok was trying to kill us every five minutes, but you know what I mean." 

"I was pining too! Well, maybe not pining, I am a Great Wizard after all, and Great Wizards don't pine. Possibly brood, or ponder, but not pine. No, no. Not pine. That is utterly inconceivable, my love. Really, I thought you knew better." 

"Dread Wizard?"

"Yes, Hellkitten?"

"Shut up and kiss me again." 

And then there was silence, while two statues gazed at each other, their eyes filled with love.


	71. Truth Laid Bare

**Cards Reshuffled 71 – Truth Laid Bare**

_And here I thought it was embarrassing to have my familiar peeking in on my bedroom activities. Shows how much I knew. That is nothing whatsoever, compared to certain other mortifying experiences that lay in store for me. Then again, perhaps it was better that I didn’t know. At least I got to enjoy myself in the meantime._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

There was…singing? Zaerini shifted about in bed, unwilling to open her eyes just yet. She was someplace very soft, and very warm, and…what was that song? It sounded familiar.

_Once I thought myself so strong,  
Always right and never wrong  
Now I feel my legs go weak,  
Every time I hear you speak_

_Felt lost and confused, about what to do  
But meeting your eyes, is when I know  
Who I want is you_

The voice singing was practically whispering, as if the singer was afraid to disturb her, but she could hear the words clearly all the same. Now and then the voice warbled a little out of tune too, but despite her normally sensitive ears she didn’t care one bit. Now she definitely recognized it, and she wouldn’t mind listening to it forever, despite the fact that the singer wasn’t nearly as talented as she thought herself. 

_Felt lost and confused, about what to do_  
But meeting your eyes, is when I know  
Who I love is you 

_Who I love…is you_

Yes. Now she knew exactly where she was, and who was singing to her. She was in her bed in the Trademeet inn, and there was another body next to her, a warm, curvy and female body. And there were strands of long hair tickling her bare throat as the singer leaned in towards her, and hot breath against her skin as a slow kiss was planted on her ear, and she couldn’t help shivering a little with delight. 

“I know you are awake,” Edwina said, sounding very satisfied. “And while watching you sleep is very pleasant, I think that having you conscious would improve your enjoyment of the next few minutes. (No, not minutes. Let’s aim for hours.)”

Zaerini opened her eyes, smiling as she noticed the satisfied smirk on the wizard’s face. _I really think she’s as happy about this as I am._ They had spent a long time in that fountain yesterday, it was all coming back to her now. Eventually…yes, eventually she had suggested that her bed offered a far dryer and more comfortable spot for cuddling, and Edwina had been perfectly happy to take her up on her suggestion. Well, at least up to a certain point. Edwina had looked pretty embarrassed as she explained that she had been spending many a long hour planning what their first proper night together would be like, and that she wanted to be in her own body for that occasion, because otherwise she’d feel that they were both missing something. It simply wouldn’t feel right. But that didn’t mean that there weren’t plenty of other ways they could still find pleasure together. _And we did. Oh boy, did we ever._ She could feel her own smile turning very naughty as she remembered some of the pastimes of the past night, and from the way a faint flush was spreading across Edwina’s face and down her neck it seemed that the other woman did too. “Good morning, Dread Wizard,” Zaerini said, reaching her hand out to entwine her fingers with some strands of glossy dark hair. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Hm?” Edwina frowned. She was reclining on her elbows now, and the sheets had slid back enough to offer Rini a magnificent view of her impressive physique. _Ah, she’s so beautiful…I don’t think she even knows how beautiful. Well, lucky her, because I’m about to teach her!_ “Forgetting? What would that be?”

“To wake the swooning woman up with a kiss, silly!” Rini said, and then she tugged gently on the hair she was caressing in order to pull the wizard’s head down. Things proceeded very satisfactorily from there, and it was a good few minutes before either of them was capable of speaking a single word. 

“Edwina?” Zaerini asked once she was finally able to think straight again. She was lying on her belly now, her head resting on her crossed arms, and enjoying the extremely pleasurable sensation of the wizard’s hands slowly stroking her back, now and then rubbing and massaging a tense spot. It was enough to make her feel as if she was floating on a warm pink cloud and she had to make a real effort to remember what she had been meaning to ask. “That song you sang…when did you hear that?” _It was_ our _song. Well, it was meant to be. I only sang it that once, and she wasn’t there to hear it. She had already…left me. Hadn’t she?_

The hands paused, and though they soon returned to their soothing rhythm she thought she could feel them tremble a little. “I heard you sing it,” Edwina said, her voice a little strained. “On the night when I left. Walking out that door was one of the two hardest things I’ve ever done in my life. (And I had to do them both in the space of just a couple of weeks. How lucky I am.)”

“Because of the Red Wizards?” Rini asked, turning over so that she could see Edwina’s face. The wizard looked rather miserable. _Well, we can’t have that. Oh no._ “Edwina, I forgave you about that long ago, don’t worry.” She reached her hand out, slowly trailing it along the other woman’s hip, with the very satisfying result of seeing her nearly forget to breathe. “I love you. And I know you were trying to be protective of me because the Red Wizards were mad at you for some reason, which was rather silly of you, but still very sweet. I’m not angry with you…I’m just very happy that you at least heard the song.” She laughed. “Perhaps I should write us a few new ones though, with happier memories to go with them. And no more secrets between us, right?”

“Right!” Edwina said, and if Zaerini had been in a slightly less blissful state she probably would have noticed that the wizard answered far too quickly, and that there was a nervous twitch in her left eyebrow. “No more secrets, right. Of course not.”

“Good.” The half-elf edged a little closer, into the arms of the other woman, rubbing herself against the delightful body next to her. “Mmmm…you’re very cuddly, did anybody ever tell you that?”

“Cuddly? Certainly not! I am charming, seductive, attractive, erotically skilled and passionate. Red Wizards aren’t ‘cuddly’. (The things I put up with from her…)”

“This one is,” Rini said in a decisive voice, and planted a light kiss on Edwina’s lips. “Very…very…very cuddly.” With each repetition of the word, she administered another kiss, working herself downwards along the throat, to the collarbone, and then…

“Hellkitten, what are you…oooooh!” Edwina’s comment broke off with a brief gasp, and she shuddered a little. “I’m going to…pay you back for that…you know!” 

“I should certainly hope so! In fact, I can’t wait…” _Oh…her skin is so soft. So warm…just being this close to her makes me want to tear all her clothes off and ravage her and…hang on. Her clothes already are off. Oh well. On to the ravaging then…at least as far as she will let me. We have to turn her back to a man soon, or I think we’ll both go nuts. Well, at least there’s plenty we can do while we’re waiting. Let’s see what happens if I do this…_

Edwina sucked in breath sharply, her fingers clutching the half-elf’s shoulder so tightly that it hurt and let out a small moan. “Please…” she whispered. “Please…” 

Rini paused, giving her lover a sly look through her red hair. “Liked that, did you? Are you sure? You don’t feel like you need a break or something, because in that case I can always pause and…” Then she gave a small scream of delight as the other woman pounced on her, pinning her down with her greater weight. 

“Little tease…” Edwina purred. Her eyes were half closed, and she had red spots in her cheeks. “Annoying, aggravating, infuriating little tease.” She bent down, administering a slow kiss on the redhead’s lips. 

_Oh yessss…how I adore her insults!_ “Vain, arrogant, irritating, boastful wizard…” she replied, the words sounding a little strained. She raised her legs, using them to lock the other woman’s body tightly against hers. 

“Ignorant, willful barbarian…” Those lovely hands were exploring her body now, touching it in ways that made her feel as if her skin were slowly catching fire. 

“Oh my…spoilt…brat!” Her pink tongue quickly darted out, teasing and prodding. 

“Ah…er…reckless pest!” Lips against her ear now, driving her half mad with desire as they sucked lightly on the earlobe, nibbling a little bit. Edwina was breathing heavily by now, and her eyes looked more than a little glazed. 

“Silly, foolish, adorable braggart,” Rini whispered, her smallest finger toying with her lover’s bellybutton. 

“Wild, disorderly, utterly perfect succubus…” 

That did it. A good while of very pleasant activity followed, and afterwards the two women were both rather sweaty and breathless. Rini sighed happily, feeling more than a little sleepy again, and pressed a little closer to her lover. She was tightly snuggled into Edwina’s arms, her head resting quite comfortably against the other woman’s chest, and with their legs twined tightly together. She yawned a little. “Wanna go back to sleep for a while?” she asked. “I know the others may be waiting by now but waiting a little longer won’t hurt them…it’s not as if we haven’t waited far too long already to do this.” 

“Mmmm…” Edwina said, and the half-elf could feel a hand gently stroking her hair. “Hellkitten? I was just wondering…” 

“Yes?”

“Well…I was wondering…how did you manage to get so good at this?” Edwina was speaking very rapidly by now, the words practically tumbling over each other. “Did you…I mean…did you ever…how much practice have you…(If it was Anomen, then I will kill him! Slowly…and then I will resurrect him and kill him again and again.)”

Zaerini finally took pity on her lover. “Edwina…” she said. “I grew up in a library, remember? Both I and Immy have very inquisitive minds, and Candlekeep has all sorts of interesting books. Detailed books. Some of them even containing pictures. For some reason Gorion never put them on our curriculum, but we managed to learn quite a few interesting things on our own.” 

“Oh. That makes sense. (Perhaps I should tell her about those magical concubines I attempted to summon when I was a teenager…but no. Some things are better left unknown.)”

“Mmm. But Gorion also always told me that a scholar is never done. There is always more stuff to learn. Actually, I think the two of us should arrange for another…study session very soon. Just as soon as I have a short nap to recover a little.” 

_Well FINALLY!_ The voice inside her head made Rini practically fall out of bed, and her eyes went very wide. 

_SOFTY? What are you…where are you…how long have you been…_

_For ages, kitten. I must say, as long as it took you to get about your mating, you certainly seem very enthusiastic about it. I’m very proud of you. Could you try not to make the bed sag quite so much the next time though? It almost hit me on the head right now. And try to explain to Insufferable that you don’t need him to dance about on the pillow, jumping up and down and doing acrobatic tricks in order to ‘cheer you on’. You seem to be doing fine on your own. But since I am tactful, unlike certain monkeys, I will offer discreet advice, if you like._

“Insufferable?” Zaerini said, her mouth gaping open. “Are you _both_ hiding under the bed?”

Edwina sat bolt upright, a look of horror on her face. 

_Of course. As slow as you two were we wouldn’t dream of not keeping an eye on things, or ear as it were. You could have messed it up again. Now, try to get your mate back to normal so that you can proceed to complete the mating. A litter of kittens might be just the thing to…_

Approximately half a minute later, a black cat and a tiny fluffy monkey were both sitting on the floor outside a closed door, staring at each other in bemusement. 

_Why d’you suppose they got so upset?_ Insufferable asked. _My person can use some advice, nobody humps like a monkey, oh yeeeeah baby! And I’m the most magnificent monkey of them all, I’m totally humpy-humpy!_

_No idea_ , Softpaws replied, sounding more than a little testy. _Two-legs…sometimes I really don’t understand them at all. They get worked up about the silliest little things. And telling us not to ‘peek’ through our links…how can we possibly ignore the things they’re doing? It’s like having somebody waving a fire beneath your nose._

_You’re telling me, pretty kitty. My human’s excited enough that I need to hump something, right now!_

_Monkey?_

_Yeah, pretty kitty?_

_Let go of my leg or I’ll bite your head off._

_That’s what you call ‘tough love’ is it?_

_No. That’s what I call ‘tough’._

Meanwhile, in the Trademeet inn’s common room, Jaheira was trying her best to be tactful and yet forthright. So far she had been unable to strike the perfect balance. 

“But suppose something is wrong? She could be ill!” Anomen sounded earnestly worried, and his hair was unusually disorderly after he had dragged his fingers through the brown curls about once a minute for half an hour. “And if she doesn’t show up soon, she will miss the Hero’s Presentation in front of our statues, and the entire town is awaiting us, and what will they all think?”

“Anomen…” Jaheira tried. “Have you _seen_ the statues yet?”

“Of course not,” the cleric replied. “They are meant to be a surprise, after all.” 

_Of course. And what a surprise they will be._ Jaheira shook her head, trying to think of a good way to break the news to the poor boy. Unlike him, she had seen the statues when she was taking a walk the previous night, and she certainly hadn’t missed the significance of the way two of them looked at each other as if they were about to jump each other and do something that really wasn’t suitable in public. Of course, the fact that she had overheard snippets of a certain conversation coming from a certain fountain had also helped her draw certain conclusions. Not to mention that Zaerini wasn’t the only one who hadn’t been down to breakfast yet this morning. 

_I suppose it was bound to happen eventually. Those two have been besotted with each other for ages, after all._ She had used to be very concerned about Edwin’s intentions towards her younger friend, and his disappearance from Baldur’s Gate hadn’t helped matters, but there was no mistaking the way that the wizard looked at Zaerini. Whatever else you might say about Edwina, by now Jaheira was quite certain that she would never intentionally do anything to harm the bard. In fact, she would probably rather cut off her own arm. _So let them enjoy what happiness they have managed to find together. Time is too short to be wasted. You never know…you never know when the person you love might be taken from you._

“Lady Jaheira?” Anomen inquired. “Is there something the matter?”

Jaheira blinked, coming back to the present, and met the priest’s anxious blue eyes. They were both sitting at a table in the Trademeet Inn, along with Minsc and Jan. It was a cozy little place, with a warm and intimate atmosphere about it. The tables were freshly scrubbed, the windows clean, and there was a delightful smell of freshly baked bread drifting out from the kitchen. A pair of nimble serving girls darted about the tables, taking orders. There were actually quite a few people present for such an early time in the day, every single table was crowded. The citizens of Trademeet seemed to have stepped out to a man to honor the people who had saved their town, and the adventurers were the focus of plenty of admiring gazes and whispers. Minsc was waving cheerfully to everybody who smiled at him, telling anybody who wished to hear about the ‘Heroic Kicking of Evil Druid Butt’, and Jan had told about twenty different versions of the battle with Faldorn already, each more outlandish than the last. And Anomen…well, Jaheira had noticed several young ladies watching the cleric, admiring his strong shoulders and boyishly handsome face no doubt. He seemed completely oblivious to their attention though. _Poor boy, chasing after the one he cannot have, deluding himself. Well, he will realize soon enough, and that will be for the best. Hopefully, he can be kept from challenging Edwina to a duel or some such silly nonsense. I should try to prepare him for the blow. It is bound to fall any moment now anyway._ “No,” Jaheira said, pondering how to go on. She waited until Minsc and Jan had both drifted over to other tables and were completely preoccupied, and nobody was listening. “Anomen…have you spoken to Zaerini yet?”

“Ah…about what, Lady Jaheira?”

The druid shook her head. “You know what I am talking about, Anomen. You are fond of her. Yes, I have seen the way you look at her, do not bother to deny it. My question is perfectly simple. Have you spoken to her about this?”

Anomen’s cheeks turned a bright pink, and he fidgeted a little with the straps to his armor. “Lady Jaheira, ‘tis not seemly to speak of such…”

Jaheira leaned forward across the table, fixing the young cleric with her best level stare. “Humor me,” she said, her voice flat. “And trust me when I say that this is especially important. Have you in any way mentioned to her how you feel?”

Anomen stared into the tabletop. “Not as such,” he quietly said. “I have thought of it, more than once, but every time I try something seems to go wrong. I will brag and make a fool of myself, or else lose my temper, and be outright rude and insulting. How could she possibly put up with that?”

“Her tolerance for bragging and insults is remarkably high,” Jaheira dryly commented. “However, you should be aware that…” 

“It is? It is!” Anomen got to his feet, his smile shining as brightly as his newly polished armor. “Thank you, oh thank you, Lady Jaheira! I must go and speak with her at once! Ah, if only that annoying wizard hadn’t totally ruined those crimson rhodelias I found in the swamp…” He immediately started towards the stairs, and before Jaheira had the time to react he was already pounding up them. 

_Great Silvanus, what now?_ “Anomen, wait!” she called out. “Stop! I did not mean to suggest…” 

Too late. Even as the druid ascended the stairs, she could see Anomen halting outside the door to Zaerini’s room, primping his moustache a little and clearing his throat. “My lady!” he trilled. “’tis a beautiful morning, and a glorious day, nay, a glorious life awaits us both! Come, let me escort you down to the adoration of the townspeople!” 

Then he pulled the door open with a flourish and a bang, bowing deeply, paying no attention to the black cat and small fluffy monkey who streaked between his legs and into the room. 

Then he raised his eyes. 

And then he drew in his breath sharply, as if he had been punched in the gut, and his face turned a sickly gray. Jaheira had just caught up with him, and was able to look over his shoulder, and she wasn’t surprised at his reaction. 

Zaerini was sitting in the bed, and the warm midmorning light that was streaming in through the partially open window illuminated her long limbs and slender form, making them shimmer as if they had been lightly sprinkled with gold dust. Her unruly red hair almost seemed to be on fire, a bright flame around her startled face. And she had good reason to look startled too. One reason for this would be that she was completely undressed, with not so much as a sheet covering her. The other reason would be that she was not alone in bed. 

The young half-elf was reclining on Edwina’s lap, more or less seated between her legs with her back resting against the equally naked wizard’s breasts, one of her hands stroking Edwina’s shapely thigh, and the other toying with a long strand of dark hair. She certainly seemed in no hurry to go anywhere. 

As for Edwina, she had both her arms tightly wrapped around Zaerini, and was resting her chin against the smaller woman’s head. Her hands seemed very preoccupied too. When she spotted the uninvited visitors, her dark eyes went large with surprise and she froze in mid-caress. “Haven’t you people ever heard of knocking?” she snarled as she hastily tried to cover up her lover with an extremely crumpled sheet, red spots appearing in her cheeks. “I thought monkeys generally knew how to use their knuckles at least. (If that Helmite doesn’t take his goggling ‘Everseeing Eyes’ off her soon I will take them straight out of his head! And I could have sworn that door was locked…flimsy westerner workmanship…)”

Zaerini was still staring at Jaheira and Anomen, her face utterly horrified, and her mouth open. 

And Anomen…well, Anomen straightened his back, bowed curtly, and then he spoke in a voice that was polite, courteous, and held only the smallest hint of a tremble. “I beg your pardon, my lady,” he told Zaerini, his face still that nasty gray color. “I fear I have overstepped myself and intruded in an unforgivable way. Please believe me when I say that it was entirely unintentional…I presumed too much, and I shall remove myself immediately.” Then he turned around sharply, pushed past Jaheira and hurried off along the corridor. Jaheira thought she could hear a muffled sob as he passed her. 

_Oh Khalid_ , the druid thought, her heart heavy. _How I need you now. You would have been able to talk to him. Please help me now if you can. Please help me help him, before he does himself or anybody else any damage._ “I will talk to him,” she hastily told Zaerini. “You two had better get dressed, unless you mean for the presentation ceremony to present rather more than originally intended.” 

As she walked out, Jaheira could head Edwina’s voice drifting after her. “Oh, wonderful. They let in the cat and the monkey too. Insufferable, no! We do not need lessons on ‘Hot Monkey Love’…and stop making practical displays!” 

Jaheira hurried as much as she could, but Anomen was moving remarkably swiftly for an armored man, and once she finally caught sight of the sun reflecting off an immaculately polished suit of armor the priest was already walking past the city gates. The druid ran after him, heedless of the puzzled looks she got from the many townspeople walking past, no doubt wondering why one of the fabled Heroes of Trademeet was running in the very opposite direction of the large celebration prepared for her. She did not care. All these people, the crowds, the stone streets, they were pressing in on her, and it felt good to have soft grass beneath her feet and feel a warm breeze against her face. _And now, when there is nobody around to panic, we will see about really running._ Jaheira concentrated, and then she felt her body shifting and changing, as she crouched down, suddenly standing on four legs rather than two. Thick gray fur sprouted all over her body, and she stretched her muscles briefly, then sniffed the air for the familiar scent of Anomen. _Time to run. Time to hunt._

He was sitting on a rock on the ground when she found him, a little way from the main road, and into the woods. His shield and flail had been allowed to fall on the ground next to him, and lay forgotten in the dirt, the previously shining surface of the shield smudged and grimy. Anomen himself also looked to be in a bad state. His face was buried in his hands, his brown hair untidy, and now and then his shoulders shook with silent sobs. Jaheira silently crossed to his side, and sat down next to him, shifting back to her normal shape as she did so. She said nothing. It was not yet the time to speak. She simply sat there, waiting. The time would come when it came, and right now he needed his grief. 

Eventually, Anomen raised his head, and looked at her. His eyes were red, and his cheeks streaked with tears, but he seemed a little calmer. “How long?” he asked. “How long have they…”

Jaheira raised an eyebrow. “Been lovers? Only since yesterday, as far as I understand it. But they have been in love since long before then, since long before you met them.” She paused briefly, then went on. “It is a long history. They have had their ups and downs for certain, but if it had not been for what happened in Baldur’s Gate, then I do not doubt that they would have been sharing a bed for quite some time.” She tried to keep her voice compassionate, but not pitying. He would not appreciate that. “I know her well, well enough to tell you what I am now about to tell you. She did not understand that you felt that way about her, at least not until very recently. She did not want you to get hurt, and she does care for you, if not in the way you would wish. She would not want you to leave either.” 

Anomen drew a deep, shuddering breath, and wiped briefly at his eyes, forcing a smile. “I…I believe that,” he said. “And yet, I cannot stay. Not as it is now. I…I could not bear to look at them, together, knowing what I have lost. Knowing that it was never mine to begin with. My Test will soon be upon me, I must be clear in my thoughts and firm of purpose for the Order to accept me, and this will not help. No, I must go. I must spend some time alone, to think.” 

Jaheira nodded, feeling a surge of sadness. _Perhaps it is better that way. It will give him time to calm down, to accept the thought, before the situation deteriorates further._ “Where will you go?” she asked. 

“To Athkatla,” the cleric said. “I wish to spend some time at the Temple of Helm, to see what counsel my god may offer me. And I will also take the time to visit my sister…I have not seen Moira for quite some time, and I miss her sorely.” He sounded a little choked. “I…I had hoped to bring my lady with me, to visit…but it seems I shall go alone.” 

“I am truly sorry, Anomen,” Jaheira said, briefly embracing the young man. “I hope we will soon see you again, and that spending time with your sister will help ease your mind. Go with Nature’s blessing – and with mine.” 

_The balance has been shifted_ , she thought as she watched Anomen walking off down the road, his lone figure disappearing into the trees. _I hope we will find it again, and that he will too, for his own sake._


	72. Heroes Of Trademeet

**Cards Reshuffled 72 – Heroes Of Trademeet**

_Things not to do at a Heroic Presentation: Pick your nose. Yawn openly. Tell Jansen stories. Oh yes…and that other thing, involving your significant other. Note to self: Don’t do that either, unless you want to draw the wrong kind of attention to yourself._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

The ceremony dragged on and on, a seemingly endless torment. Zaerini forced herself to smile and wave at people as they cheered her and her friends, despite wanting to leave as quickly as possible. _Anomen…where are you? Please be all right._

_He had to find out eventually_ , Softpaws said. _If nothing else, he would have noticed the statues._

Rini groaned quietly. _Gods, yes. I didn’t even think about that. All I thought about was Edwina…but of course Ano would have realized when he saw them. I’m so stupid sometimes._

_You’re in heat. Everybody gets a bit silly when they’re in heat._

_Maybe. And yet, even finding out by seeing the statues would likely have been better than him walking in on us like that._

_Well, it’s done. At least now he knows._

_Yes. Well, as soon as we’re done here, I’m going after him. I owe him an explanation._ The half-elf gripped Edwina’s hand tightly, taking comfort in the presence of her lover. 

“You look too pale,” the wizard whispered, her dark eyes filled with concern. “As soon as these peasants are done showering us with the adoration we deserve, you should rest a bit. You’ve had a nasty shock. (And I wouldn’t mind joining her – there are so many ways I could keep her distracted.)” 

“Can’t. We need to find Anomen.”

Edwina looked utterly puzzled. “What for?” she whispered. “So, the Helmite is gone? Good riddance, I say, and yet another reason for celebration. I could probably conjure up some sparkling wine and a cake if I have a few hours to look up the proper spell…” 

“Edwina!” 

“And in the meantime, please allow me to help ease your mind. (Easing her clothes would also seem like a very attractive alternative.)” 

Rini felt the wizard’s arm sneaking about her waist, pulling her a little closer, and she couldn’t help herself. She leaned in closer to the warm body next to her, sighing a little. Her hands came up, one of them making contact with those tempting curves, and the other tangling itself in thick dark hair. And then she was being bent slowly backwards, and there were hot lips against her own, and then…

Silence. Deep, anticipatory, and very poignant silence. Slowly, slowly, Zaerini turned her eyes, and met about a hundred eyes staring back at her, all of them looking utterly wide and fascinated. From the sudden flush appearing in Edwina’s cheeks it seemed that she, too, had suddenly remembered about the presence of most of the population of Trademeet. 

“Ooops…” Rini said, an embarrassed grin on her face. 

“You know kiddies,” Jan thoughtfully said, “I would advise you to get a room at about this point, except that reminds me of what happened when my cousin Meg Jansen did just that with her new beau. They went to this tiny little place called ‘The Gates Motel’ you see, which was run by this truly sinister gnome who had invented a mind-controlling device called Uncommon Pewter. Because it was made from pewter, of course, and uncommon since it had this eerie glow that hypnotized people, making them sit in front of it for hours at a time, until they drowned in their own drool from watching pictures of naked half-orc ladies. Anyway, my cousin and her boyfriend rented a room, and all was fine and dandy until they found the landlord peeking at them through a hole he had drilled in the bedroom wall. Needless to say, they were pretty much upset, since they were doing rather personal things in that bedroom, and they went to confront the landlord. Alas, he used his Uncommon Pewter against them, making cousin Meg’s boyfriend think that he was really her crazy old mother, which rather complicated the relationship, especially when he came after her with a kitchen knife for going off to strange motels with young men. Fortunately, he missed, and stabbed the landlord instead, which broke the spell. They still run the motel together, actually.” 

“We…will keep that in mind,” Edwina said, her eyes slightly glassy. 

“Not a bad story,” Minsc said, “but not enough hamsters in it. Does the little gnome know the story about Hammy the Happy Hamster? That is Minsc’s favorite.” 

“No Minscey,” Jan said, “but I would be delighted to learn it! Please go on…”

“Very well,” Edwina said in a low voice, her mouth pleasantly close to Zaerini’s ear as the hamster story passed them blissfully by. “We will go and find the Helmite, as soon as possible. (If not, I don’t doubt that the gnome will spend all his time conversing _me_.)” 

Once the reward ceremony was finally over, the party reassembled in the Trademeet Inn, to wait for Jaheira’s return. The druid eventually walked through the door, and Rini’s heart sank as she saw that Jaheira was alone. 

“I am sorry, child,” Jaheira said. “He would not come back, he said he needed some time alone.” 

“And I can’t blame him,” the redhead said, wincing. “Oh Jaheira, I’ve made such a mess of this.”

Jaheira shook her head. “He had to learn sooner or later,” she said. “Granted, it might have been better if he had not seen…what he saw, but you could not have known that he would walk in on you. And yes, it might have been better if you had told him sooner, but these things are difficult to handle for anybody. You did your best, and you did not hurt him intentionally. I think he will probably understand that, eventually. Just give him some time to calm down, and then talk to him.”

Jan nodded; his voice unusually serious when he spoke. “If the lad is worth anything, he’ll understand,” he said, his eyes a little distant. “He’ll be unhappy of course, but he’ll want you to be happy, your Worship. Even if that means seeing you with somebody else. That’s how it is when you really care about somebody.” 

“That’s right!” Minsc agreed, giving the bard a crushing hug. “Little Rini must simply say ‘sorry’, and Anomen must say ‘sorry’ too, and then we can all be friends again! Boo says that ‘sorry’ is a simple word but hard all the same, but Minsc thinks it’s easy.” 

Zaerini smiled at the ranger’s kind and honest face. “That’s because you’re you, Minsc,” she said. “And I love you for it.” 

“Now wait just a moment,” Edwina protested, her voice mock scolding. “Such a comment could make me quite concerned, Hellkitten. In fact, I think I need some reassurance that you won’t suddenly elope to Rasheman.” She pouted, in a way that made Rini’s heart melt completely. 

“Is that so? Well, for being jealous I think you deserve to be taught a lesson…” 

_I’ll think about Anomen later_ , the bard thought as she snuggled into the arms of the wizard, kissing her passionately. _And I’ll try my best to make up with him. But right now I’m too happy to think about much of anything._

-*-

They left Trademeet the next morning, after saying their farewells to both Lord Logan, and to Kveroslava and the other Rom. The fortune teller shared some of her knowledge about the reading of cards, and then explained that she and her people would return to the forest now that it was once again safe to do so. “Home beckons, for most of us,” she said. “Even more so in times of distress. You would be wise to seek your young friend’s home, and soon.”

“Anomen?” Zaerini asked. “You’re talking about Anomen, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I have seen much darkness ahead of that one. He may yet prevail against it, but before long he will need your help.” The Rom woman’s eyes turned melancholy. “I could only see vague impressions, but somebody close to him is in terrible danger, though he doesn’t know it yet. Go to him, girl. You love him, though not in the way he would wish, and he will need you.” 

That news didn’t exactly make Rini less worried about Anomen, and she was very eager to get back to Athkatla. She did take the time to go for a little ‘shopping expedition’ with Jan first though. Now that the hold of the genies on the merchants of Trademeet had ceased, there was once again a vast array of interesting goods. Interesting, and expensive, and she meant to pay as little as possible for them. She made a special point of only taking Jan along too. Minsc didn’t approve of thievery, and nor did Jaheira. She was unable to sneak past Edwina though. 

“No!” the wizard protested. “I absolutely forbid this! Have you no idea how dangerous it is? Suppose you got caught? Suppose you got arrested and put in jail?”

“Relax, ‘Dwina,” Zaerini said, planting a light kiss on the wizard’s cheek. “You’ll fret yourself into an aneurysm if you’re not careful.” 

“And with good reason too! You think this is all some kind of…some kind of lark? An amusing little game?”

“If you don’t hush down soon people will notice,” the bard whispered, even as she snagged herself a few spell scrolls from a stand and slipped them under her cloak. “Oooh, would you look at that bow over there…isn’t it pretty? I’ll just go and get it.” 

“No!” Edwina said, trying to hold her in one place by tugging at her tunic. “Will you stop this? (Gah, she is so reckless…if it wasn’t for me to supply her with some common sense, she would undoubtedly be long since dead.)”

“Calm down! I’ll be careful.” 

“Ha! That’s what you _say_! (My poor frayed nerves…)”

“Edwina, stay put and stop distracting me! It’s an order.” Rini had to admit that the put-out expression on the wizard’s face was extremely adorable, but she steeled her heart against it and concentrated on the task at hand. Ten minutes later she returned, her pack stuffed with all sorts of expensive and magical items, all of them illegally acquired. “See?” she told Edwina. “No problem whatsoever. I got this neat cloak that blurs you so that you’re more difficult to hit, I thought that could be useful for Minsc, assuming it doesn’t give us all a headache. And then there’s this magical belt that increases your resistance to magic…go ahead, you take that! It’ll look great on you too. Oh, and then there’s this lovely, lovely bow that fires magical arrows…”

“Yes, yes,” Edwina said. “You pulled it off. Just don’t worry me like this again. (Rogues…no self-preservation at all.)” 

“Of course not,” Zaerini said with her sweetest smile. _Because there is no way you’re going shopping with me again, love._

Jan chose that moment to return, having been equally successful in his pilfering and carrying several intriguing new spell scrolls. The trio turned back, meaning to rejoin the others. Before they had gone long however, they saw an extremely odd character heading towards them. It was a wizard, of that there could be no doubt. But not just any wizard. The robe he wore was blood red, the same color as Edwina’s, and looked very fine and expensive. He was completely bald, and both his shaven head and his high cheekbones were decorated with swirling black tattoos. Several magical amulets hung around his neck, and the ornate staff he carried glowed brightly with magical energy, clearly visible to anybody with mage sight. The man had a rather long face, with jutting eyebrows and deeply set dark eyes. They looked keen, bright and intelligent. And also cold, and utterly merciless. 

“Oh no….” Edwina whispered; her face suddenly pale. “Not him! Not Degardan…” 

_A Red Wizard_ , Rini thought, feeling a sinking sensation in her stomach. _And a powerful one, by the look of him. Well, I don’t care. If he means any harm to Edwina, then he will be made to regret it. Forcefully, if need be._

“Hold up, wayfarers,” the strange wizard whom Edwina had identified as ‘Degardan’ said. “I've a few queries for this lowly group of middling pilgrims.”

Zaerini gave Edwina a quick look, noticing the frozen look of apprehension on the other woman’s face. Of course, she didn’t know exactly what was going on, but she could guess well enough, knowing that her lover had attracted the enmity of her former employers. _For my sake. She did that for my sake. I won’t let her down now._ “Never thought of myself as a pilgrim exactly,” she said. “But never mind. What do you want?”

Degardan’s cold eyes scanned the trio, and he picked an invisible piece of lint of his blood-red robe. “I am interested in the whereabouts of Edwin, a long-winded bag of gas. Homeland magics indicate this area to be a likely place for the vulture to roost. You look like adventurers, and such people are likely to encounter many a stranger on the road.”

“Really?” the bard said, hoping that the dryness of her mouth wouldn’t cause her voice to tremble. “Why would you be looking for this…’Edwin’ was it?” She kept a tight hold on Edwina’s hand, which felt frighteningly cold, and she didn’t quite dare look at her lover. _Please, love. Don’t give yourself away._ “Did he forget to write home or something?”

Degardan gave a dry little chuckle, that was reminiscent of bones rattling in an empty cup. “If so, I do not doubt that he would soon be made to regret it, given his dear mother’s temper. No, that is not it.” Those reptilian eyes stared into hers; never blinking, and the dry voice spoke on, eerily monotonous. “Edwin is a self-serving nerveless worm. He's gone rogue. He tithes nothing and has vilified the masters of the order and sullied their good names.” He made a disgusted face. “Not to mention openly rebelling against given orders, and outright attacking those above him. Shameful.” He gave Edwina a long and considering look. “You are a fellow Bloodcowl, woman. You will be interested in knowing that helping to bring this rebel to justice will go over well with your superiors. Very well.”

“Ahahaha!” Edwina nervously laughed. “Of course, of course. And even so, the slaying of a traitor is the highest priority of any Red Wizard, certainly. Should I come face to face with this ‘Edwin’ he will suffer a most lingering death. Oh yes indeed. Lingering. Of course, it could prove quite dangerous. No doubt this ‘Edwin’ is a formidable foe, an extremely powerful wizard, capable of bringing down entire armies with his magic, and of summoning the fiercest of Hellspawn. (Not to mention charming, handsome, and devastatingly erotically compelling.)” 

Degardan shrugged. “As it happens, his prowess as a spellcaster consists of parlor tricks and balls under coconut shells. Did I mention the fantastic reward as well? There is a king's ransom for the kind soul who would be so obliging as to turn the impotent imposter over to the proper judicial authority.”

“Parlor tricks?!” Edwina began, her face outraged. “I’ll…” Then she fell into glowering silence as Zaerini pinched her arm hard. 

“I’m always interested in rewards,” the bard said, forcing herself to smile at Degardan. “If I should happen to come across this ‘Edwin’ I will certainly let you know.” 

“Right you are, your Worship!” Jan chimed in. “Nothing wrong with a spot of bounty hunting. In fact, one of my favorite cousins, Rutger Jansen, was an excellent bounty hunter. Brilliant career, just brilliant. All he needed to do was tell his clients a few carefully selected stories, and they all became very docile and came along as quietly as you please. It worked just fine, right up until he was sent after that rogue golem. Poor cousin Rutger found out too late that the golem was hard of hearing, due to being made from impure silicon, and it promptly broke his skull.” He sighed sorrowfully. “I guess it’s a sad fact that there are some deluded creatures who simply cannot appreciate a good story.” 

Degardan was staring at the gnome, with that same stunned expression that most people wore upon meeting Jan for the first time. “Right…” he slowly said, holding out a small crystal to Zaerini. “Well, if you find out where Edwin is, simply rub this crystal three times and speak the code word, which is ‘Zazterral’. That will notify me of your whereabouts. His full name is ‘Edwin Odesseiron’, he is about your age, perhaps a little older, and extremely disrespectful and ill-mannered.” He paused, as if he had suddenly thought of something. “Oh yes. Do not attempt to take him down on your own, simply send for me. While Edwin himself should cause you no great difficulty, he may be…in company.” 

“In company?” Rini echoed, utterly puzzled. _What…he couldn’t know about us, or he’d already have confronted us. So just what kind of ‘company’ are we talking about here anyway?_ She glanced at Edwina, who had turned even paler than before, and looked extremely shifty. _Just what are you up to anyway, Edwin Odesseiron?_ “What company?” 

Degardan simply shook his head. “Never mind. You do not wish to tangle with that one anyway. As I said, if you spot Edwin, do not approach him in any way. Just send for me.” He turned to leave, giving Edwina a final glance. “Oh, and sister…you really should do something about that…that hair of yours. I realize these are barbarian lands, but certain standards should still be maintained.” 

“I’ll thank you to stay away from my hair, you withered old prune!” Edwina spat. “It is hardly my fault if certain ancient fossils cannot come to terms with the fact that the world has moved on, and that what was fashionable in Szass Tam’s day is less than modern now. (Besides, I look even more attractive this way.)” 

Degardan gave her a disapproving look. “Young people,” he said, shaking his head. “A proper shave, that would do wonders I’m certain…” Then he spoke again, his voice sharp. “And by the way, what is your name?”

“My…er…my name?” Edwina said, sounding rather panicked. “It…ah…my name is…er…Belladonna Sharvazzar. You probably never heard of me.” 

“No,” Degardan said. “I can’t say that I have. And if you do not want your superiors to hear of you in a less than flattering way, you will remember your courtesies in the future, young woman. Good day to you.” With that he turned, and walked away, leaving behind a severely puzzled half-elf, an amused gnome, and an extremely nervous wizard. 

“Edwina?” Zaerini asked once she was certain Degardan was gone, and once she had tossed the magical crystal into the gutter. “Just what was that about?” 

The wizard fidgeted uncomfortably, twining a strand of hair around her fingers. “Why Hellkitten…I already told you. About how the Red Wizards are upset with me, remember? (And what gall to use ‘zazterral’ for a code name…’braggart’ indeed. I never exaggerate when I speak of my magnificent accomplishments, it’s not as if I need to.)”

“No, not that bit. The other thing. About your ‘companion’. The one we ‘wouldn’t want to tangle with’. Now, I’m pretty sure it couldn’t have been Insufferable he meant, so it must be somebody else. Somebody that I really feel I ought to know about.” She put her hands on her hips, staring at Edwina. “So, I’m going to ask you again. Who was he talking about? Some old girlfriend?” _If it is, and if she turns up to cause trouble, then I’ll yank every strand of hair out of her scalp._

Edwina looked utterly horrified at this suggestion. “Girlfriend?” she squealed. “No, no…not at all. Definitely not.” 

“Boyfriend?”

“NO! (Gah, what a horrible image, and now I’ll not be able to get it out of my head either.)” 

“WELL WHO IS IT THEN?!”

The wizard’s shoulders sagged visibly. “All right, all right, I will tell you,” she said. “But not here, and not now. This needs to be dealt with in private, it’s…complicated.”

“Fine,” Rini said, her eyes narrowing. “I’ll hold you to it, you know. And you can stop batting your eyelashes at me. Yes, they’re long and pretty, and I love you and think you look utterly adorable, but I’m not dropping this.”

“I wasn’t batting my eyelashes! (And I do not look ‘adorable’. Alluring, yes. Tantalizing, certainly. Intimidating, most definitely. Adorable, no.)” 

“If you say so, Dread Wizard. If you say so…” 

-*-

Meanwhile, Anomen was marching along the road heading west from Trademeet. The sun was shining from a clear blue sky, the grass was green, the flowers along the road were pretty, and the birds sang lovely tunes from the trees. Anomen wished they were all dead. Then, he changed his mind. He wished that he were dead, yes, that was it. If you were dead, you didn’t have to feel. You didn’t have to think. And you most certainly didn’t have to remember the most devastating moment of your life, the one that made even Cor Delryn’s appearance at the Order pale by comparison. 

_I thought she loved me. I really did. And it would have been so perfect, I had it all planned out. The flowers. The proposal. The…the first night together._ He wiped at his eyes, not for the first time, grateful that there was nobody there to see him. _Where did I go wrong? I prepared so carefully, doing everything properly._

And he had, too. Anomen shifted his backpack around a little, feeling the comforting weight of his true and trusted friends inside. ‘Knight in Shining Armor’…’My Lady Fair’…’Courtly Love’…even, yes even that very naughty novel called ‘Paladinic Passion’ that he only ever read under his bedclothes, blushing furiously all the while. He knew all his favorite parts by heart, having reread them again and again, using them to form himself into the perfect image of a knight, every woman’s ideal man, surely. The better lines he had practiced diligently in front of a mirror, to make certain he got them right. 

_After all, clumsy and uncouth as I am, I couldn’t very well put faith in my own abilities with the fairer sex. When I speak from my heart, I constantly make a fool of myself. And yet…and yet she prefers the wizard. Why? How?_ Being rejected hurt bad enough. But being rejected in favor of another woman…that was a very bitter pill to swallow indeed. _Father would probably say that it is because I am not a proper man in the first place. How he would laugh if he heard of this humiliation._

Even that wasn’t the worst of it though. _I still love her. Helm help me, I still love her, and it hurts. Every time I so much as close my eyes, I see…them…together. I cannot stop thinking about her. Why can’t I simply turn my feelings off…that would be so much easier._ He had had to go away of course, at least for a little while. Seeing them together, seeing them happy together, that hurt too much to be born. And yet, a small, niggling voice at the back of his mind admonished him sternly. _You have a duty to her. You swore to aid her in her quest. And you would throw that sacred duty aside, simply because you do not make her heart beat swifter? Is that the kind of knight you would be? A knight does not do his duty because he expects love, or anything else in return. He does his duty because it is his duty, even should he get nothing but scorn for it. That is the way of Helm._ It didn’t help much though. He knew that the voice was right but listening to it was too painful. 

_I might come back to her. Later. Nothing prevents me from doing so. And perhaps she will worry just a little bit in the meantime, and perhaps even regret…no! No! That sort of thought is uncharitable in the extreme! I am being childish again. Act like an adult, Anomen. An adult. Let me see. What would Sir Belvedere in ‘My Lady Fair’ do?_ Anomen thought about this for a few moments, and then reached the unfortunate conclusion that Sir Belvedere was never turned down by any woman in the first place, so probably could not offer much advice. He did know who might though. 

_Moira. My dear sister, she will understand. She knows the workings of the female heart, she will know what I did wrong, I am certain of it. She will offer me the succor I need, and I will feel all the better for seeing her sweet face again._

Anomen marched off down the road, a fleeting smile on his face. 

_I cannot wait to see her again._


	73. Echoes from The Past

**Cards Reshuffled 73 – Echoes from The Past**

_I’ve never been one of those people who insist on knowing every tiny detail about my loved ones’ private affairs, and what they’re thinking. In fact, I think that’s a very annoying way to act. Still, as I’ve said before, there are certain tiny details that I think it’s rather important to be aware of. Especially those not-so-tiny details that might suddenly pop up behind me with a stiletto._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

_I suppose it really should come as no great surprise to me when one of the ghosts of my past happens to float by, sporting a nasty grin and getting ready to do something unpleasant to me involving pincers and hot iron. After all, there are quite a few ghosts to choose from, and those of the still living tend to be the most aggravating ones._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

The journey from Trademeet had gone smoothly, with no problems at all so far. The only minor delay before departure had been a steady stream of urgent messages from a pair of Trademeet nobles, a certain ‘Lady Lilith Luraxxol’ and ‘Lord Skarmaen Alibakkar’, both of them requesting Zaerini’s presence at their estates in order to discuss some sort of business proposal. She had responded politely enough, telling them both that it would have to wait until she returned to Trademeet at some future time, and that was that. 

Now the adventurers were busy setting up camp for the night, and Rini decided that it was high time she had a word with her lover. The wizard was digging about in her pack, a very preoccupied and worried look on her face. I hate seeing her upset…but she’ll feel all the better for having it off her chest I’m sure. And whatever it is she’s hiding, I have a strong feeling it’s something I really ought to know, or she wouldn’t look that guilty about it. “Edwina?” she asked, her hand lightly caressing the other woman’s bent neck. “I think we ought to have that talk now.” 

Edwina sighed. “If you insist,” she said. “But I don’t want anybody else listening to this. You deserve to know, but only you.” 

“Fair enough. We’ll go a little way into the woods, how’s that?”

“It will do. (Though I can easily think of several more pleasant things to do alone in the woods with her.)” 

“Edwina…”

“Yes, yes. You’ll get your wish.” The wizard pulled something out of her backpack, what looked like a piece of parchment. “I’d better bring this…it might make it at least a little easier. (Although I would rather wrestle a dragon than be forced to explain this to her. With one hand tied behind my back.)” 

A short while later the two women were sitting pleasantly close to each other on a flat rock, covered with soft moss and some very pretty little pink and bell-shaped flowers. The sun was low in the sky, and the few lingering rays made the trunks of the surrounding pines glow a bright and fiery red. It was pretty enough, Rini thought, if not as alluring as the woman she loved. _She’s so beautiful…so perfect…and such a silly twit, keeping important secrets from me like this. I hope it isn’t too bad._ “All right,” she said. “We’re alone. Now talk to me, and this time I want the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. What did that ‘Degardan’ person mean when he mentioned your ‘companion’, and why have you never mentioned this to me before?”

Edwina turned her face towards her, biting her lower lip a little. “Before I tell you, you must promise me something,” she said, her voice tense. 

“Promise what?”

“Not…to hate me after I tell you.” The wizard spoke rapidly, her voice nearly stumbling out of her mouth. “You might do it all the same, and I couldn’t blame you, but I never really meant…that is, I…love you.”

The half-elf leaned closer, wrapping her arms about her lover’s waist, looking her deep in the eyes. _Those lovely, lovely eyes._ “I love you too,” she said. “I can’t promise not to get upset, but I couldn’t ever hate you. I promise.” 

Edwina drew a deep breath and stared fixedly into the ground. “Do you remember when we first met?” she asked. “Back in Nashkel?”

“Of course. You ran into me by accident, knocked me down and everything.”

“Well…it wasn’t quite that accidental. The knocking-down part, yes, although I still think that was your own fault for not watching where you were going, but…I was waiting for you, you see.” 

A very nasty suspicion started to grow in Zaerini’s mind. “Waiting for me?” she asked, her voice sharper than before. “What do you mean?”

Edwina’s face was a study in quiet misery as she went on. “The Harpers weren’t the only ones who knew of your heritage,” she said. “So did the Witches of Rasheman, which is why that Dynaheir woman was sent to find you. So…did the Red Wizards.” 

The world stood still as Rini rapidly worked this through. She could hear her heart beating loudly, her pulse was pounding in her ears, and she felt suddenly cold. Of course. It all made sense, now that she thought about it. Certain things Edwin had said, odd little comments that she hadn’t thought much about at the time. “I see,” she said, her voice toneless. “So, you were sent to spy on me.” _I trusted you!_

Some of her hurt must have been evident on her face, for Edwina went on at once, speaking fervently. “Yes,” she admitted. “Of course, I didn’t know you at the time. I couldn’t have predicted…that is, I thought it would only be another mission for the Red Wizards.” She coughed, looking embarrassed. “If you must know, my first really important one. The first one outside Thay too. I almost was not allowed to go, I had to be very persuasive and…but never mind. The point is, I was supposed to recruit you, make you agree to serve the interests of Thay.” She looked rather sick as she went on. “And if I couldn’t do that…then I was supposed to make certain that you would at least not serve the Witches.” 

_He WHAT?_ “You…you were supposed to kill me?” she managed, her voice sounding dry and cracked to her own ears. “I see. So why didn’t you?” She laughed, a brief, mirthless laugh. “It must have been pretty obvious before long that I wouldn’t want to work for the Thayvian rulers. And you must have had plenty of opportunities.” _I love you. I thought you loved me. Don’t you? I can’t think…_

And then there were a pair of arms holding her tightly, almost hard enough to bruise, and an accented voice whispering furiously into her ear as soft hair tickled her throat. “Because I _love_ you, you stupid woman!” Edwina snarled. “Of course I couldn’t possibly ever do anything to hurt you, I would rather bear Elminster’s mutated offspring. Ten times over, in fact, despite the disgusting beard, and despite that they would all undoubtedly be born with pointy heads. I have been in love with you since practically the moment we met. Now just try to get that through your stubborn, idiotic, Bhaalspawn skull, because I’m not letting go until you do.” 

Rini pondered this for a few seconds, all the while glaring into the angry eyes of her lover, close enough for their noses to touch. Slowly, slowly, a smile spread across her face. “Elminster’s mutated pointy-headed offspring?” she said. “That I would love to see. Well, actually I wouldn’t, but you get my point. And…I love you too. How could I not, when you have such a wonderfully poetic way of expressing your feelings? Despite your plans for trying to kill me.” 

“I _didn’t_ try to kill you,” Edwina huffed, but she seemed less tense than before. “And…I couldn’t take the risk of him trying it either.” 

“Him?”

“Yes.” The wizard cleared her throat nervously. “As I said, this was to be my first mission outside Thay. I thought it would be a good idea to bring company along. For backup, you see. So, I asked him to come with me, and he graciously agreed. (Well, actually I seem to remember him saying that he would as soon let an infant wander into a snake pit as letting me go off on my own…but she doesn’t need to know that little detail I’m certain.)” 

“Asked who to come with you?”

“Ah…” Edwina said. “Well…do you recall me mentioning that most of my upbringing was handled by the family assassin? Who better than Teacher Dekaras to accompany me on such a mission, I thought?” She laughed nervously. “If, for some reason, I didn’t feel equipped to carry out the mission, he was supposed to help me. Of course, by that time I didn’t want the mission to get carried out…but I didn’t dare trying to explain that to him. I thought he might decide to do it anyway, you see. We both knew that deliberately disobeying my orders would get us into very deep trouble.” Her voice was strained when she next spoke. “And we…are close, so he’d want to do anything in his power to protect me. At least we _were_ close. I honestly don’t know how he feels about me now, after everything I did.” 

Zaerini closed her eyes, leaning her head against her lover’s chest as she could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on. _Oh Edwina…_ ”Let me guess,” she wearily said. “You never even tried to explain things to him, despite him being your closest friend and all. No more than you tried to explain things to me. So, what did you do, given that I’m still alive and all?” 

“Well…I had to be sure he wouldn’t try to intervene. And there was another matter too, he was placing himself in a very dangerous position and wouldn’t listen to me and…” 

A few minutes later the headache had grown worse. “All right,” Rini said, trying to keep her voice steady. “Let’s see if I get this straight. You sent him a bogus letter, telling him to meet you in _Icewind Dale_ of all places, because, and I quote, ‘you wanted to keep him safe’?”

Edwina had bright red spots in her cheeks by now. “It sounded a lot better before you said it out loud like that…”

“It sounds like typical Edwin Logic, that’s what it sounds like. I know you meant well, but couldn’t you have thought of a nicer place at least? And I can’t imagine he’d be happy once he found out the truth. I know I wouldn’t be, especially with no explanation.” 

Edwina nodded, looking very unhappy. “I know,” she said. “He must be so very disappointed in me…I just hope I’ll get the chance to explain things properly. I can’t bear the thought of him hating me!” 

“Oh Edwina…” Zaerini said, stroking her lover’s hair. “I’m sure he couldn’t possibly hate you, even if he is upset with you. Not if he really loves you, and from what you’ve told me it sure sounds like he does. No more than I could. And I hope you’ll get your chance to explain things too. Hopefully before he decides that it still might be a good idea to slit my throat to get you back into the good graces of the Red Wizards.” She smiled. “And I understand how much it meant to you, disobeying your orders like you did. You were risking your entire old life…for my sake. If I ever thought I needed any more proof that you love me, then that would be more than enough.” She reached her face up, meeting the other woman’s lips in a soft kiss, even as her hands trailed across Edwina’s back. _Mmmm…I can’t believe we waited this long. But we can always make up for lost time, I’m sure._ “I take it that’s all the secrets done and dealt with, right?” she playfully asked between kisses. 

“Er…” Edwina said. “Actually, there is one more thing. Though I think I’d better show you rather than tell you.” She held out that parchment she had brought with her from her backpack, her fingers trembling a little. “Please be careful with it. I worked on it for ages, and it’s quite a good likeness. Teacher Dekaras even said so himself, and he doesn’t say that unless he means it.” 

Raising her eyebrow curiously, the half-elf took the offered parchment and carefully started to unroll it. _A portrait, is it? Let’s see then._ She had to admit that she was very curious to see who could have inspired such devotion in her lover as was clearly evident in Edwina’s voice whenever she spoke of her mysterious mentor. _At least it’s not a woman. Now that would probably have made me more than a little jealous, given how Eddie more or less seems to worship the ground he walks on._ And then she saw the portrait, and stared at it, feeling her mouth slowly drop open. 

The portrait was of a sharp-featured man of indeterminate age, probably somewhere in his forties, with a rather long and pointed nose. He was smiling a faintly lopsided smile, and his dark eyes glittered with humor and sardonic wit. Zaerini knew his face well. She’d met him in person, after all, and had always quite liked him, despite being a little wary of him. She’d even seen another picture of him…one with decidedly less clothes on, for that matter, drawn by Imoen during that wild crush of hers. Not to mention that she’d seen him in more than one of her dreams and foretellings, usually being sarcastic with her. She could almost hear his voice now, in fact. _Why the surprised look? I told you I would turn up. Really, you ought to pay better attention to your elders._

“ADAHN?” she exclaimed, still staring at the portrait. 

Edwina nodded. “Though that was only an alias he used, of course. He always has been wary of giving out his real name.”

“I see…and this is the final surprise you’re going to spring on me, is it?”

Edwina nodded again. 

“Good…because I think need some calming down after this final one. Just put that portrait away so it won’t get damaged, and then let’s see if it’s true that pine is good for calming your mind.”

“Pine?” Edwina asked, looking puzzled. 

“Yeah…pine needles rubbed into your skin from lying on the ground, to be exact. Though I think that moss over there seems like an even better alternative, what do you say?” 

Edwina smiled. 

-*-

The vampires were proving more unsettling than he had thought they would. Dekaras knew that he didn’t get easily unnerved. After all, even in a dangerous situation there was usually something you could do to improve it, if you were skilled enough and didn’t panic. Thus, it made no sense at all to panic since that could only make things worse. Simple logic. And he had certainly encountered vampires before, more than once, and up close. 

And yet, each time he walked into Bodhi’s underground assassin’s guild he couldn’t help feeling…no, not afraid. Uneasy was perhaps a better word for it. There were quite a lot of vampires after all, and there seemed to be more around each time he stopped by. And most probably quite a few of them would love to get their fangs into him and were only stopped by Bodhi’s orders. Hopefully they were all aware of Bodhi’s orders, or he might just have to kill somebody, and that would present all sorts of awkwardness. But that wasn’t what bothered him, not deep down. 

The assassin halted by the large tomb leading down into Bodhi’s underground lair. For a moment, the oddest sensation overcame him, and he froze with his hand on the door, his fingers suddenly unable to work it properly. No, scratch that, for a few seconds he wasn’t even certain that he _had_ fingers. Then the feeling passed, and he took a slow breath, trying to focus on the task at hand. _Of course you have fingers, idiot. You’d be in a fine mess if you didn’t._ The strange feeling had passed, leaving only an uncomfortable memory behind. It was as if a fleeting image from a dream had drifted up from his memory, superimposing itself on reality until he could not entirely tell one from the other. That was bad enough, but what was worse was that it was not the first time. In fact, it had been happening more and more often, especially when he went to visit Bodhi. 

_That dream…I know there was a dream. But what was it about?_ He slipped quietly through the dark tunnels leading to the vampires’ abode, trying to concentrate on the elusive memory. The tunnels…yes, the tunnels had been in the dream. He hadn’t recalled the dream at all at first, but now he could remember that much. He had been hurrying through these tunnels, on some extremely urgent errand, the most important one in the world. For a moment, he turned to look across his shoulder, and then shook his head in disgust. He had actually expected somebody else to be there, somebody who had been there in the dream. _Of course, I don’t know who. Or anything useful whatsoever, except that it turned into a nightmare in the end. Hardly anything new about that._ But no, telling himself that didn’t really work. This wasn’t one of the normal, familiar, regular nightmares. This was something else, something more real. And he couldn’t shake the feeling that the nightmare was trying to prepare him for something very bad in real life. _Well, if it is, then I have to say it’s doing an extremely lousy job of it, since it’s neglecting to mention any details at all, except the oh-so-stunning revelation that walking into a nest of vampires might be bad for my health. It’s not as if I could have guessed that on my own._ Shaking his head in disgust he went on, wondering if perhaps the intrusive dream had something to do with those scryings he still felt trying to catch him, like an invisible web sweeping the world. 

_The Wychlaran…could it be that they have managed to break through? To influence my mind? No! I will not allow it. Not again. Never again._ And it didn’t feel quite right, either. If it had been the Witches of Rasheman, then he doubted that they would be sending him any sort of warning about impending danger. _No, they would have tried to kill me already. Or worse. Most probably worse._ Well, the mystery would simply have to wait for now. Right now, he needed to concentrate fully on what he was doing, or there would be no need for vague warnings since he would be in very clear and present danger. _And I really don’t need any more flashbacks about walking on four legs, thank you so very much._

The vampire lair was pretty much quiet tonight, Dekaras was pleased to see. Probably most of them were out hunting. A pair of young fledglings hissed threateningly from a corner but backed off when they recognized him. Bodhi had trained her children well. They knew they were not supposed to harm certain select humans, and that included both those poor unfortunate souls who fetched and carried for the undead, their minds completely enslaved, and the more independent agents, such as himself. _Not that I must ever make the mistake of depending on that protection. To them, we are all cattle in the end._

It had come as a bit of a surprise that there weren’t more ex-Shadow Thieves working for Bodhi, either in their original capacity or as newly turned vampires. To be certain, there were several, but not at all as many as the number of disappearances suggested. Of course, it was possible that they had simply been slain, but Dekaras doubted that. If so, then why would Bodhi be so eager to recruit her competition, and not simply attack them all? No, there had to be something else in store for them, probably something very unpleasant. 

Now he had reached the stairs heading down to Bodhi’s private quarters and descended even deeper than before. Everything was quiet, very quiet. That is, right up until the point when he came to the door leading to Bodhi’s rooms, and found it just a little bit ajar, somebody having neglected to fully close it. There were voices coming from inside too, not from the next room, but from somewhere further inside the apartment. One was clearly Bodhi’s. There was no mistaking that voice, the sultry surface trying and failing to hide the cold depths beneath. The other voice was male, and the intonation told the assassin what he needed to know, though he wasn’t close enough to make out the words. _Yoshimo? Now this is interesting…_ He knew that the other rogue had orders and missions of his own of course, but so far, he had been unable to learn much about them. He didn’t dare question the bounty hunter other than in the most casual way, since that might well be reported directly back to Bodhi, and of course it was out of the question to ask the Queen Vampire herself. But an opportunity to learn some more about exactly what secret missions Yoshimo was undertaking, that was an opportunity that really shouldn’t be passed up. 

Gently, ever so gently he pushed at the door, and it swung open soundlessly, allowing him to slip inside the room. It was mostly dark inside, with just a small amount of pale candlelight coming from under the door to one of the adjoining rooms, along with the voices. He could only just barely make out some more of those rather disgusting blood baths, lowered into the floor. Fortunately, they seemed to be empty this time around, but the smell still lingered. He had to be careful of course, very careful. Not only had Bodhi been an elf in life, with all what that meant in terms of acute hearing, but she was a vampire too, and a powerful one. As he slowly edged towards the closed door in front of him, the assassin focused every fiber of his being on making not even the slightest of sounds. _Move with the shadows, inside the shadows, as one of them. Not a footstep. Not a single breath to be heard. Not a beat of the heart._ His breathing and pulse actually did slow when he went into this almost trance-like state, every muscle firmly under his control, and all conscious thought seeped away, letting him concentrate exclusively on his goal. Then it was done, and he was standing right outside the door he wanted, able to hear the words spoken inside. 

“…and hopefully they will be returning to the city soon,” Bodhi was saying. She chuckled quietly. “Our young Bhaalspawn is eager to be reunited with her little Imoen, I am certain. And if she wants it, then I shall be happy to aid her. After I have no further use for the girl, of course.” 

“But Mistress Bodhi,” Yoshimo said, his voice low and subdued. “Surely you need your brother to…”

A low hiss, like that of an angry cat. “Fool! Arrogant and conceited he may be, and as passionless as any other old withered husk, but he knows his craft. He would not have allowed himself to be taken if he did not know it would ultimately benefit our cause. He is far more powerful than those little cowled gnats currently in charge of Spellhold, and he will know how to deal with them.” Her voice turned sickly sweet again. “Do not worry your pretty little head with such complex matters, my precious. We will do our part, and that way we will all get what we want. I am certain my brother will send word before long.” 

“As you say, Mistress,” Yoshimo said, but there was a hollow tone to his voice that told Dekaras that he was anything but pleased with this thought. 

“Now, on to your own tasks,” the vampire went on. “Do not bother with Valen’s side of the matter, she will deal with that on her own. You will be called on if necessary.”

“What of the wizard?”

Again, that cold, amused chuckle. “The poor girl…I believe I will have a word with her myself, and before too long. It would greatly amuse me to have a look at her. By now I believe she ought to be quite desperate, and ready to go along with my suggestions in return for what she wants.”

“And will she get it?”

“Don’t be ridiculous! My brother might possibly know how to handle such a thing, but I do not. Still, she needn’t know that, does she? And she has the ear of the Bhaalspawn, or so you tell me. That could be used in any number of ways.” 

Dekaras frowned at this, thinking it over. Unfortunately, it didn’t tell him much, about Imoen’s location or anything else he needed to know. For one fleeting, hopeful moment when ‘the wizard’ had been mentioned he had hoped it might be Edwin, though he certainly wouldn’t want Bodhi’s attention to ever turn towards the boy in any way. But this obviously had to be somebody else. _But who? And where is Edwin anyway?_ Since the fortunate discovery that Edwin had indeed reached Athkatla, he had started searching the city for the wizard, but it was a large place, and so far, he had had little success. He had come across some interesting news in the Docks though, about a gang of adventurers taking down a local Shadow Thief thug by the name of ‘Mae’Var’, a thoroughly unpleasant character by the sound of it. The descriptions had been clear enough. It was Zaerini all right, and Edwin was apparently with her, though so far, he had been unable to trace their progress since then. _What was he thinking of, mixing himself up with Shadow Thieves like that? Doesn’t he have any idea how dangerous it is to tangle with such people? He really has no sense of self-preservation at all, not an ounce. Never has had any._

The assassin mutely shook his head with exasperation, and then forced himself to become calm again. It would be seriously inconvenient to make a noise and have Bodhi notice him after all. He would simply have to try to put Edwin out of his mind for the moment. _Ha. Fat chance._ Well, at least he could try. 

The conversation turned to other matters for some time, discussion of various Shadow Thieves, and the details of the ongoing guild war. Interesting in a sense, but nothing that seemed vital. Dekaras was just on the verge of leaving when something else happened. 

“Oh yes,” Bodhi slowly said. “What of your other task?” She giggled as if she had just thought of something very amusing. “The frail little innocent flower of an elf?”

Yoshimo made a highly disgusted sound. “The little viper is well setup in the very bosom of high society,” he said. “No doubt she will feast on all their hearts before she is done with them.” 

“Probably so,” Bodhi agreed, practically purring. “Such a delightful girl…she would make a fine Child, I think. Perhaps later. But for now, I wish to offer her an alliance. Our little ex-Avariel is a power in her own right, and one I would rather have on my side for now. Time enough to drink her sweet blood later.” 

“She will be planning to betray you too,” Yoshimo warned. 

“Of course she will. That shall make it all the more amusing. Of course, she is hardly likely to listen to _you_ , given your previous…falling out. And frankly, my pretty, you are not the high society type. No, we must look elsewhere. I believe our new friend Mordo will be better suited to approach our precious treasure of a Loviatar priestess…what was her name again.” 

“Aerie,” Yoshimo said, his voice once again toneless. 

“Aerie. Yes, that was it. Well then, Mordo will get the pleasure of charming her into our fold.” There was a very disturbing giggle. “Once we are done, I shall send for him. I desire his company.” 

Dekaras didn’t really hear Yoshimo’s response to that, nor did he allow himself to pay much attention to the nasty sucking sounds and muffled gasps that followed. He never would have thought that anything Bodhi could say would give him greater pause than hearing the bloodthirsty vampire express a ‘desire for his company’, but it wasn’t that that made him feel as if somebody had just flung a noose around his neck and begun to tighten it. 

Mechanically, automatically, he somehow managed to get out again without alerting Bodhi, aided by the disgusting slurping noises the vampire made as she fed on the luckless Yoshimo. Dekaras hardly noticed them, however. The things he had just heard kept spinning through his mind, rapidly being analyzed and forming themselves into a complete and highly disturbing pattern. _An ex-Avariel. Elven priestess of Loviatar. A ‘little innocent flower’. Aerie. Ciri. Cirindaeriella. Aerie. It’s_ her.


	74. Messages

**Cards Reshuffled 74 – Messages**

_Once, just once, I’d like to see a messenger bearing good news for myself or my friends. News that didn’t involve doom, danger or distressing family matters. Just once, is that too much to ask?_

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Right then,” Zaerini said as she strode through the gates of Athkatla. “We need to find Anomen, and we need to find him soon. We’ll just get settled somewhere first, preferably not the Copper Coronet this time, and then we’ll start looking. I heard somebody mention this place called The Five Flagons in the Bridge District that’s apparently quite nice.” Her voice turned a little wistful. “It even has a theatre downstairs, I heard.” 

“And we will rent good rooms I hope?” Edwina asked, stretching and yawning a little in a way that had every male eye in the neighborhood immediately focus on her. “I’m tired of walking…I’m tired of talking…(if not as tired as of this laughable body) and I wish to rest now.” She gave the half-elf a very suggestive look through her long eyelashes. “Though I dare say that with the proper company ‘rest’ could easily be put off for some time…”

“We’ll get good rooms,” Rini promised, smiling at her lover. “Really good, I promise.”

“Ah, good. With nice, soft and above all large beds? (Or at least the one in our room.)”

“Yes, with large beds.” 

“Private bath? Imagine the possibilities…” 

“Uh…possibly…” _Mmmm…I can just see her covered with bubbles…yummy._

“Mirrors on the ceiling?”

“Mirrors on the…what?”

“So I can see you properly all the time,” the wizard explained, a suspiciously innocent look in her dark eyes. “I would not wish to miss a single delicious movement, a single shift in color, a single ecstatic…” 

“Yes, thank you, ‘Dwina!” the bard hastily interrupted, feeling a sudden heat in her cheeks that didn’t get the least bit better by the knowing way she saw Jan grinning at her, nor by Jaheira’s studiously neutral look. Minsc just looked puzzled, bless him. 

“Minsc doesn’t use mirrors much,” the ranger said. “Boo tells him all he needs to know in order to look nice and clean.” 

“Yes,” Edwina said, idly toying with her hair, “well, there are certain things better handled by a well-placed mirror than by the roving eyes of a hamster, strange as it may sound.” Then she gave the small and fluffy monkey sitting on her shoulder a stern look. “No, Insufferable,” she said. “That goes for you too.” 

Jaheira shook her head impatiently. “If you children are quite finished, time is a wasting, and we should…” Then the druid suddenly broke off in mid-sentence, looking across Zaerini’s shoulder with a suddenly concerned look on her face. The bard turned around, seeing a woman pushing towards them through the crowd, a short elven woman wearing a gray hooded cloak that concealed most of her features. “Greetings, Jaheira,” she said in a soft and musical voice. “Your presence is required.” She briefly raised her hand, and Rini could just about make out a flash of silver. It wasn’t enough to make out any details, but Jaheira visibly stiffened. 

“I…does it have to be now?” she asked, sounding angry, but mostly trapped in a way that made Rini feel extremely uncomfortable. It wasn’t like Jaheira to behave so diffidently with anybody. 

The elf nodded. “It does,” she said, her face calm and impassive. “You are summoned. You know what that means.” 

“Yes, but I have other duties as well! I cannot simply leave!” 

_Leave? Now hold on a…_

“I believe this will not take long,” the elf said. “You should be back shortly. Now, will you come…or not?”

Jaheira’s knuckles whitened around her quarterstaff, trembling a little, and Zaerini was alarmed to see the trapped look on her face. “Jaheira?” she tried, putting her hand on the other woman’s arm. “It’s the Harpers, isn’t it?” she whispered. “If you really must go, then don’t worry, I understand. You can catch up with us later.” 

“Don’t tell me what I can or cannot do, child!” the druid snapped, but she immediately calmed down, rubbing hear fingers wearily against the bridge of her nose. “No…I am sorry. I did not mean to be grumpy…it is simply…very well. Can you stay out of trouble for a short while?”

“Huh, of course I can! Don’t be ridiculous. But what about you? Suppose they’re mad at you, over…well, you know.” She whispered the next few words. “Over that Harper Assassin. Maybe you shouldn’t go alone.” 

“Do not worry, child. I can handle this. All will be well, I am certain.” 

The elf cleared her throat impatiently. “Jaheira,” she said. “We are expected.” 

Jaheira gave her a withering glare. “I know that fully well,” she said, “but I have other obligations than those we…share.” She turned to Zaerini again. “I will not be long. Await me at this ‘Five Flagons’ then, I will come as soon as I can.” With that she gave the younger half-elf a brief hug, nodded to the rest of the party, and then walked off with the elf. Zaerini suddenly realized that it felt extremely odd, and not at all comforting to not have Jaheira at her side. Though they hadn’t always got along, the druid had still become a close friend, and somebody she trusted. And she had been there from the start, all the way from the Friendly Arm Inn. _Well, she said it wouldn’t take long. Some sort of boring Harper business I’m sure, I’m well out of that lot._

The adventurers walked on, heading deeper into the city. Inwardly, Rini was counting. _Ten…eleven…twelve…_

“You know,” Jan piped up, “all this secret society business reminds me of a story!” 

_Thirteen. New record. “Yes Jan?”_

“Well,” the gnome went on, “it all involved one relative of mine, little Samantha Jansen.” 

“Just out of curiosity,” Edwina said in a weary voice, “but exactly how many relatives do you really have? And can we skip to the part where this one dies, or would you rather skip to the part where the present Jansen dies?” 

“Well, it’s rather hard to keep count you see, Red, since Jansens have always been fast breeders! And not to worry…you see, poor little Sammie was dead to begin with.” 

“That’s a new one,” Zaerini said, raising her eyebrows. 

“Yes…you see, the poor child had the unfortunate habit of walking about with her hair hanging in front of her face, in order to try to look scary. Not just her face either, it hung all the way to her ankles. I’m afraid she was a very bad little girl; she made this evil little giggle whenever she’d managed to spook some unfortunate soul into a nosebleed by popping out of her hair right in front of them. Anyway, the hair also kept her from seeing where she was going, and one day she fell into a well and drowned.” 

“But,” Edwina said, looking rather dismal, “of course that wasn’t the end of it.” 

“Right you are, Red! Indeed, it wasn’t. You see, little Sammie was such a vicious kid that she rose from the well as a slimy ghast seven days later, deadlier than ever. And seeing that she was now an Undead Evil Kid, rather than just an Evil Kid, she thought it would be a lark to join the Twisted Rune, that hideously Evil organization of majorly Evil Entities. Especially since they all wore these really neat red fezes with gold tassels…oh, you would have liked those I’m sure. They turned her down though, said it wasn’t anything for kids. Oh boy, did that ever make her mad! Sammie swore bloody vengeance against all the Twisted Rune at once, of course, and her revenge was gruesome.” 

“What did she do?” Edwina sighed. 

“Drew these really disturbing crayon images all over the walls in their Secret Headquarters,” Jan promptly replied. “Enough to drive anybody mad, it’s said, or kill them if they’re lucky. I heard there was this one beholder whose eyes exploded just from viewing them.”

“But what were they of?” Rini asked. 

“I didn’t see them myself of course,” Jan said, scratching at his beard. “But I heard they portrayed this hideously cute little purple dinosaur named ‘Blarney’. And there were apparently sound effects too, etched into the very walls by Sammie’s magic…the story ends with a warning. ‘Just before you die, you hear him sing’.” Then he smiled brightly. “Anyway, let’s hope our dear Jae fares better, eh?” 

“I can’t see how she couldn’t,” Edwina muttered. “At least she doesn’t have to listen to your stories. (I suppose we should count ourselves fortunate he didn’t see fit to accompany this particular gem with a tune.)” 

By now they were nearing the Bridge District, and the sun was soon about to set. “Right,” Zaerini said. “Let’s hurry up a little, we want to get there before it gets too dark. Plenty of muggers about these parts, I shouldn’t wonder.” 

Hardly had she finished this sentence before a small, dark shape darted out of an intersecting alley, nearly running into her. She already had her hand on her sword by the time the creature took a step back, revealing itself to be an unusually small gnome, with wildly sticking out hair dyed into black and yellow stripes, and wearing a scarlet tunic. He beamed brightly at Jan, then set his thumb against his nose and waggled his fingers about. “Hey, turnip boy!” he said. 

“Who dar... Beeloo?” Jan said, and then crowed with delight, thumping the other gnome’s back. “Beeloo, my dear cousin Beeloo! Is it really you?”

“Who else, dear cousin? I see that you've gathered some formidable friends since I've last seen you.” The little gnome peered up at the adventurers, smiling all the while. 

Jan nodded. “Well they're not gnomes but they're not a total loss either. Some of them can get through an entire battle without my needing to baby-sit them. Quite remarkable for the non-gnomish. And there are some interesting stories connected to them too, magic, mystery and mayhem. Where's your elephant?”

The other gnome didn’t seem the least bit puzzled by this sudden change of subject. “Back in the circus. Judge didn't think elephants had the right to choose in a custody battle. Poor Jeffery. Nailed me with a theft charge, too. Just got out of prison.”

Jan clucked his lips in a disapproving fashion. “Legally?”

“Tsk, who do you take me for, cousin? As if any true Jansen would lower himself to that. No. They should hire a better locksmith. Listen, Jan, you haven't come by the house for a long time. We've been looking for you.”

“Have you?” Jan said, looking instantly concerned. “Is something wrong? Ma Jansen is all right, isn’t she? And the tots?”

Beeloo nodded. “It’s Lissa,” he said, his voice subdued. “She’s staying with us now.” 

And then Zaerini saw something totally unexpected. Jan became suddenly very pale, and all traces of humor, silliness or mischief left his eyes, which turned dark and cold. “Did he hurt her?” he asked, and every word dropped from his lips like poisoned rain. 

Beeloo fidgeted a little, not quite meeting his relative’s eyes. “You should talk to her yourself. I promised to give you the message, but I have to go. Been dodging bounty hunters for days.” He clapped his cousin on the shoulder. “Farewell cousin. See you soon.” 

“Farewell Beeloo,” Jan said, and his mind was clearly already on other matters. Then he turned to his companions, still with that grim expression on his face. “It looks like something serious is afoot. I'll have to be heading back to my home in the Slums District.”

“If the little gnome is in trouble, then Minsc and Boo and friends will help!” Minsc immediately suggested. “Friends help their friends, or they wouldn’t be friends at all!” 

Rini nodded. “Right you are, Minsc. Jan, we’ll come with you of course, if you’ll allow it.” _Ano needs me, but Jan needs me here and now. We’ll go see what the problem is, and then I can decide which seems most urgent. And then there’s Jaheira…I really hope she’ll be back soon. If only everything didn’t have to happen at once!_

“I would be grateful, your Worship,” Jan said. “I cannot be certain exactly what has happened, but I have my suspicions. Let’s go there at once, and I’ll tell you a story as we walk. But I’d better warn you, it’s not a very happy one…” 

-*-

Lissa. The single word echoed in Jan’s head, drowning everything else out. It had been so long…far too long. _Lissa. If that turnip-hating piece of griffin-droppings has hurt her, then I swear he’ll die. I don’t care how long it takes. He’ll die._

“Jan?” The gnome craned his head upwards to see Zaerini looking at him, a worried look on her face. “Are you going to tell us what’s wrong?”

_Everything, your Worship. Just about everything._ “It’s not an easy tale for me to tell,” he began. _I’d rather tell just about any other. Including the one about Gladstone Jansen and the Eggwhisk of Doom._ “This girl, Lissa, that my cousin mentioned is an old friend of mine.” Memories assaulted him, of rosy cheeks, of hair the color of rich honey, of warm and intoxicating laughter. “More than a friend I should say.” He sighed. “She grew up poor, like me. It was a hard life but there was happiness to be found.”

_Sunlight filtering down between the bleak buildings in the slums, glittering in her hair. Furtively sharing a stolen turnip, hiding up on the roof, letting her have the larger piece. Always letting her have the larger piece. Lissa…_

Jan shrugged, trying to sound his normal, lighthearted self. He didn’t entirely succeed. “I loved Lissa like I've never loved another. She was the most beautiful girl in Athkatla. I was not the only one to think so, however; she had several suitors when she came of marrying age. I worried little about it. I was her closest friend and she claimed to love me.”

_Another memory, a feast, dancing with her, delighted at the opportunity to touch her. Walking home together afterwards, her lips unimaginably sweet as they shared a brief kiss. Lissa…I love you._

_Oh Jan…I love you too._

_And you won’t forget?_

_Never. It’s you and I, for always._

_Always._

The next bit was even worse to speak about. _Always lasted for about six months, as I recall. About as long as Hepziabah Jansen lasted when she got stranded on that desert island and had to live entirely on her own toenails. Lucky they were that long…_ “There are many gnomish families in Athkatla,” Jan went on. “Life is very different for gnomes so used to woods and caves of the country. Many of the families struggle with poverty in exchange for the safety of the city walls and Amnish law. Some families do very well. He came from one such family.”

“Aha,” Edwina said, nodding. “I kept expecting a ‘he’ to turn up. Some insufferably smug and pompous would-be paladin in shining armor, perhaps? Those are well known for trying to steal other people’s girlfriends, trying to dazzle them with stupid flowery language.” 

“Just give it a rest, ‘Dwina,” Zaerini said, giving the wizard a slightly exasperated look. “Please go on, Jan. What about this other gnome?”

_Vaelag._ Jan fiddled a little with his crossbow, lovingly imagining sending a perfect Flasher up Vaelag’s nose. _Not that I would…not if Lissa really wants him. But a gnome can dream, can’t he?_ He could just see Vaelag’s face, with its hard eyes and pouting lips, and with the whitish-blond hair practically dripping with all the turnip oil Vaelag always slicked it down with. “Vaelag is the gnome who runs all 'business' in the gnomish areas of Athkatla.”

“Ah,” the bard said, nodding. “A crime boss, was he?”

“Yes. He is a thief who pretends to be an honest merchant. Rumor has it that he reports directly to the Shadow Thieves.” _But there are thieves, and then there are thieves. More memories, of friends, relatives. Turned out in the street when they failed to pay the ever-increasing rents Vaelag demanded for the hovels he owned. Beaten by Vaelag’s thugs for being ‘cheeky’. Forced to pay ‘protection money’ in order to have their meager businesses left alone._ “Regardless, he was not a pleasant person. He was a bully and a cruel man. He enjoyed exercising power. He was also suave, sophisticated, and very, very rich.”

“Oh,” Zaerini said, a sympathetic look in her golden eyes. “I think I can see where this is going. I’m really sorry, Jan.” 

_So am I, your Worship. So am I._ More memories. _Lissa, turning away from him, her eyes distant. I’m sorry Jan…Vaelag wants me to come with him to this grand party he’s giving…haven’t you been invited? Perhaps I will see you later. No Jan…Vaelag is taking me shopping. No Jan, I don’t fancy any turnips…Vaelag took me to dinner last night…I never dreamed food could taste like that. I’m sorry._

He hurried on, eager to get the story over and done with. “I had asked Lissa to marry me and she had agreed. We were to be married at the midsummer's festival the following year. That was before she'd met Vaelag. Like most men, he took a liking to her immediately. He swept her off her feet. He showered her with gifts and city cultural events. At the time, my bitterness had me believe that he cast some sort of spell on her. In retrospect, knowing what I do about magic, she chose him of her own volition. She was pregnant shortly afterwards and they were married.” Jan paused, remembering the day when he had heard that bit of news. _Lissa…couldn’t you have told me yourself? Didn’t I deserve that? But I suppose you had other things to think of at the time._ He sighed again. “I would have given her that world, had I been able. I don't really believe it matters anymore. I just want her to be happy. Vaelag is a petty and cruel man but she loved him more than she loved me.”

“That is a very heroic thing to say!” Minsc said, nodding approvingly. “Minsc would be heartbroken if Boo ran off with some other ranger, but if it meant Boo was happy, then Minsc would let him go. I would still cry about it though.” 

“Well, there’s nothing more to say about it,” Jan said. “What’s done is done. But Lissa is obviously in some kind of trouble, and I need to see what it’s all about, and if I can help.” 

“Of course,” Zaerini said. “I understand that, and if we can help you, we will.” 

Edwina shrugged. “I think you should have simply killed this Vaelag person,” she said. “Then you could have assumed his position and you would have had power, money, and probably the girl as well, if money was what she cared most about, which sounds likely. Problem solved, end of boring story.” Then she yelped as Zaerini elbowed her in the ribs. “What? Ha, catch me trying to be helpful again. You lot simply don’t deserve the sage-like advice of an expert relationship councilor such as myself…” 

Jan paid little attention to it. His mind was once again focused elsewhere. _If I can help her, then I will. I would do anything for her. Lissa…_

-*-

Anomen, too, was thinking about his family. Well, about Moira, to be specific. He had decided that he should make himself as presentable as possible before going to see his sister. Not only because Moira deserved it, but because of his father too. Under the unfortunate circumstances that he would be unable to avoid Cor Delryn entirely, then he meant to be clean, groomed and neat, to give himself as much moral support as possible. He would need it. _Or the despicable drunkard will surely demean my appearance as well as my morals, calling me a wastrel and a vagabond no doubt. And this despite the fact that he will lie about in a half-stupor all day, his clothes and beard stained with sour wine and old vomit. How Moira puts up with him I really do not know._

He had tried, more than once, to persuade his sister to leave their lout of a sire, as Anomen himself had done. Always she had refused, her blue eyes fearful at the very thought of rebellion. _Sometimes I wonder if I was wrong to leave, if I should have stayed behind for her sake. But if I had done so…then I fear that my sire and I would have come to blows ere long. He always knew just the way to rouse my ire, and I fear…even despite Moira’s gentle influence, I fear that he might well have goaded me into becoming a patricide._

His anger. His terrible black anger, that was the curse he suffered under, and nobody knew that as well as Anomen himself did. The anger that bubbled inside him like a poisonous brew, always ready to overflow, the anger that snarled within like a barely caged beast. Anger at his father, for all the abuse, for the way he had treated his family. Anger at the Order, for every time Anomen’s dedication to righteousness had been questioned, every grueling task put in front of him, every time he had to prove himself while others seemed to sail past him effortlessly. Anger at every jeer and taunt by some of the other squires, every snide reference to his mercantile family, so plebeian compared to the others’ mostly aristocratic backgrounds. Anger at his mother for dying, leaving him and Moira at the mercies of a mean-spirited drunkard. Anger even at his poor sister for refusing to run as he himself had done. But always, anger first and foremost at himself. 

_Why? Why can I not be the man, the knight I wish to be? Why do I always seem to fail at everything I attempt? I try so hard to be a perfect knight, I always do, but…I know I am anything but perfect. Surely Helm must see that, during the Test, surely, he must see into my heart and see the blackness within. I will fail, I know it. I will fail, and they will all laugh at me, and my sire will jeer and tell me how he always knew what a worthless son I am. And he will be right too. I have wanted to be a knight ever since I was old enough to understand what it meant, and I still do, but it is hard…so hard. I see wickedness everywhere, and I want to lash out against it, but there is wickedness in mine own heart as well, the worst and darkest kind. No wonder…no wonder that she could not love me._

Anomen swallowed briefly, thinking about Zaerini. _But the wizard is assuredly evil too, and proud of his wickedness. Perhaps that is not why she rejected me in his favor. Perhaps it is simply that I am as much of a failure as a man as I am as a knight. An oafish squire, a complete bore, one whom a woman will turn down even in favor of another woman._ That last humiliation really hurt. It was painful enough to be rejected, but to be defeated by a woman… _May my father never, ever learn of that. I could not take it. I do not even think I could tell Moira about it._

Anomen turned into the Temple District, still in an extremely black mood. He could already see the symbol of Helm glittering from the roof of the temple. He really should go inside, to say his devotions. Of course, he couldn’t see how his god could possibly want anything to do with a miserable failure such as himself, but that was another story. He still had a duty to his Lord, and perhaps, just perhaps, a moment’s quiet prayer would help calm him down. _At least this is as bad as it gets. I could not possibly be more unhappy than this._

It was then that Anomen saw the messenger coming towards him. Terl…yes, that was his name. Anomen knew the man’s face well, with its pinched look and glittering little brown eyes under a mop of fair hair. A professional messenger, he had been employed by Cor Delryn more than once, though Anomen had never been able to stand the man. For one thing, he always seemed to bring bad news, and to take delight in doing so. As he spotted Anomen, there was a fleeting little smile on his face that made the cleric’s fists itch. 

“Anomen Delryn, son of Cor, I come as the bearer of dire news,” the messenger said. “Your father requests your presence at his estate.”

_Does he now? Well, he may require it as much as he likes. I will not go. Let him rot in his wine-induced stupor for all I care._ “Dire news, say you?” Anomen said, his voice as cold as he could make it. “I have no desire to return to my father’s house. Tell me why I should wish to do so.” 

Terl bowed slightly, his voice mild. “I fear it concerns your sister, my lord…”

Anomen drew in breath, feeling as if he had just been punched in the guts. Terrible fear gripped his heart, and he could hear his own blood roaring in his ears. “M-Moira? What ails her? Tell me at once, man!” 

Terl didn’t smile as such, but simply spoke on in that mild, somehow moist voice, brimming over with fake sympathy. “Your sister is dead. Most foully murdered, by all accounts.”

_Moira? Dead? MURDERED? No…NO! NO! She can’t be dead…she mustn’t!_ The roaring in his ears grew louder, and his vision turned gray and blurry, even as tears burned behind his eyes. _I was supposed to save you…_ “How…” he managed. 

“I cannot say, my lord. Perhaps you should return home as your father has requested.” 

Anomen somehow managed to nod his affirmation. He hardly noticed Terl leaving, he simply stood there in the middle of the street, tears streaming down his face. _Moira…_


	75. Homecomings

**Cards Reshuffled 75 – Homecomings**

_Your family can be your greatest support in times of trouble. Not everybody is that fortunate though. Your family also knows you well enough to hurt you as nobody else can, after all._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

The Jansen family home turned out to be a large and rather rundown building in the middle of Athkatla’s slums. Zaerini could see it from far away, and she knew it instantly. It was painted a bright purple, with flashing green spots, the chimney had an odd corkscrew shape to it, and the smoke that emerged from it was an eye-watering pink that Imoen would have loved. Even more tellingly, the building had a rounded and all too familiar shape to it, much like…

“A turnip?” Edwina asked, sounding incredulous. “You built the place in the shape of a turnip? (The utter tastelessness of this gnome never ceases to amaze me.)”

Jan shook his head. “Not me, Red. My dearly departed forefather, Christopher Jansen, the famous architect.” He sighed wistfully. “Isn’t it beautiful? Brings tears to my eyes every time I see it, it does.” 

“It brings tears to my eyes too. Simply watching it is giving me a migraine. And what about that smoke?”

“Oh, that. That’s Jan Jansen’s Patented Special Super Fuel at work. Wood is expensive in the city, and I wanted to save Ma Jansen the cost.” 

“Hang on,” Zaerini said. “Let me guess. You’re burning turnips, right?”

“Absolutely not!” the gnome said, sounding shocked. “That’s a terrible thing to suggest! No, it’s turnip leaves of course, marvelous fuel they make. Just don’t do what my cousin Bob Jansen did and try to smoke them. He spent the rest of his days believing himself to be a glass of orange juice.”

“And how did he die?” the bard asked. _At least he seems a little more like himself. Almost back to normal._

“Oh, a passing griffin came along and drank him I’m afraid. Very sad, really.” 

_Yep. Definitely back to normal._

There was a large stone gargoyle sitting above the door, and as the adventurers approached it winked sleepily at them. “What is your name?” it asked. 

“Oh, come on, Rocky!” Jan protested. “You know me! I’m the one who made you, after all!” 

“Doesn’t matter,” the gargoyle said, sticking its tongue out. “You said to ask the questions of anybody wanting to enter. I’m only doing my job here, you know. So. What is your name?”

“Oh, all right,” Jan said. “It’s Jan Jansen, doofus.” 

“Jan Jansen Doofus, you have answered your first question correctly,” the gargoyle solemnly said, causing Edwina to snicker as Jan rolled his eyes. 

“Oh, this is a fun game!” Minsc cut in, holding Boo up towards the gargoyle. “Minsc can play too! I am Minsc and this is Boo, the miniature giant space hamster! Do Minsc and Boo win a prize now?”

“No,” the gargoyle huffed. “Two more questions to go first. Second one: What is your quest?”

“Minsc knows! That we all become Butt-kicking Heroes for Goodness, and free little Imoen from the Evil Wizard, and find our poor friend Anomen who is all upset because little Rini and the Evil Girl Wizard are doing cuddly and noisy things together all night, keeping poor Boo awake when they…” 

“Yes, yes, yes!” Zaerini interrupted, reaching up on tiptoes to clamp her hand over the ranger’s mouth. She felt her cheeks burning fiercely, and behind her she could hear Edwina coughing violently. Her blush didn’t improve when she met Jan’s eyes and saw the gnome winking at her. “Next question!” 

“Fine,” the gargoyle said. “Here it is then, and it’s the Big One.” It paused dramatically. “What is your favorite root vegetable?”

Edwina gave Jan a long look. “I’m going to go out on a limb here,” she said, “and guess that the answer is not ‘carrots’. (Hateful things…never was able to stand them.)”

“Quite right, Red!” the gnome chirped. “Turnips it is!” 

“And that is your final answer?” the gargoyle asked in an ominous voice. 

“Sure is!” 

“Really, really your final answer?”

“That’s right.” 

“You won’t change your mind? Or maybe use a lifeline or something?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, all right,” the gargoyle said, sounding rather huffy. “You’re no fun at all, you know…fine, you can come in.” The door swung open, and the creature subsided into sullen silence as the adventurers entered the Jansen home, which turned out to be equally green on the outside as it was purple on the outside, with odd mechanical and most likely dangerous contraptions lying about everywhere. Rini couldn’t even begin to guess at what they were supposed to be for, but she did see that quite a few of them were turnip-shaped. Jansen design, undoubtedly. 

Well inside the house, a cyclone struck, a cyclone in the form of two small gnomish children, tiny enough that they barely reached Rini’s knees. Both had lightly tan skin, wild and disarranged white-blonde hair, and noses that would have appeared grotesquely large on any human child. “Uncle Jan! Uncle Jan!” they shrieked, pouncing upon the little thief and climbing all over him. After a series of affectionate hugs, and a distribution of not only candy but a couple of Jan’s patented Flasher Bruiser Mates, the twins retreated with their prices, and Jan introduced them as Tat and Tot, the children of one of his numerous cousins. 

“Actually, they’re quite impoverished since his wife died,” he said. “The twins were very young; they don’t even remember her. They’ve taken to Ma Jansen though, she’s like a mother to them and…” 

“Jan Jakobar Jansen!” The female gnome who came striding towards the adventurers from the turnip-shaped doorway leading to an adjoining room could be none other than Jan’s mother. There were the same twinkling eyes, and the same mischievous smile, except a little tempered with age. Her gray hair was made up into a neat bun, and she had round red cheeks. “Ah, it is good to see you, Jan!” she exclaimed, wrapping her son in a tight embrace that practically smothered him against her ample bosom. Then she took a step away from him, wiped her hands on her neat white apron and gave him a critical look. “You could come and see your old mother more often. I have to send your no-good cousins out to find you. Have you been eating properly? You look peaky. Sleeping properly? I really hope you haven’t gotten into bad company, trying to keep you from doing a dishonest day’s work! And what about the automatic turnip peeler you’ve been promising to build me for ages?” 

“Sorry Ma,” Jan apologized, “I was busy.” Then he made a grandiose sweeping gesture towards his companions. “But just look at these fine people I’ve been traveling with!” He started pointing out the others in turn. “That’s Minscey, he’s a ranger, and that’s Boo, a giant mutant miniature space hamster! Isn’t that the most wonderful thing you’ve ever seen?”

“Boo says hello to the nice gnome lady,” Minsc boomed, bending himself nearly double so he could shove Boo into Ma Jansen’s face. The hamster squeaked curiously. “Jan is a good friend, even though he sometimes is naughty and tries to steal Boo, and even though Minsc doesn’t always understand what he says.”

“How extremely surprising,” Edwina muttered in a low voice. Then she startled as Tat and Tot suddenly came up behind her, and the girl enveloped her legs in a hug while the boy grabbed hold of her robes with a small, firm and very sticky hand. 

“Oooh, you’re really pretty!” Tat enthusiastically said. “When I grow up, I’m gonna look just like you! Except with a bigger nose, big noses are the prettiest! Wanna play with me? Hey, I’ll show you my dollies, and then we can Flash the cat!” 

“Yeah!” Tot agreed, still holding onto the robe. “We like you! Want to lick my lolly?” He took the dripping thing out of his mouth, offering it to the stunned wizard. 

“Get off me, you little beasts!” Edwina protested, vainly trying to pry the adoring children off. “No! You’re getting your disgusting spittle all over my new robe! Stop doing that! And stop _hugging_ me!” Insufferable chose this particular moment to peek out of her bodice where he’d been taking a nap, and the children’s joy knew no bounds as they noticed the tiny fluffy monkey. Insufferable preened proudly, happily scampering down Edwina’s arm to let himself be petted, totally ignoring the wizard’s peeved interjections as Tat and Tot showered their adoration on her as well as the monkey, practically bowling her over. “Will you stop hugging me, you insufferable little brats, or…or I’ll put a spell on you to make your noses reach your knees and drown you in your own snot! And STOP HUGGING ME! (Miserable pests…totally spoilt of course, not properly raised like me.)” 

“Awwww!” one twin went on, petting the preening Insufferable with one hand and smearing turnip-flavored lollipop all over Edwina’s face with the other as he tried to insert it into the wizard’s mouth, quite against her will. “That monkey is great! Look Ma Jansen, look, now he’s scratching his…”

Tat giggled loudly, tangling her grubby little hands in Edwina’s hair. The wizard was on the floor by now, still trying to get free. It did seem to Zaerini though that she wasn’t trying quite as hard as she might have. “I can braid your hair, Ma has taught me, and I’m really, really, really good! And then you can borrow some of my bows, I’ve got blue and pink and yellow and green and white and…” 

“Red?” Edwina asked, interested against her will. “(This is of course utterly humiliating, but I would just as soon look my best.)” 

“Sure! Hey, look what the monkey’s doing now! How come I’m not allowed to do that, Uncle Jan?” 

Jan cleared his throat. “Because, my dear little Tat, you aren’t a monkey.” He made an exaggerated bow in Edwina’s direction, and then addressed his mother again. “And this is our own dear Edwina, who’s a Red Wizard of Thay, and a very evil and scary one she tries to be indeed!” 

Edwina gave him a suspicious look and tried to unstick the lollipop from her hair. “I most certainly am,” she said in a haughty voice. “And you little folk had better remember it, and show proper respect, or I will…or I will petrify the lot of you with my awesome powers and then sell your ugly statues at the flea market. (Granted, I’d probably have to pay people to take them.)” The effect of this threat was rather spoiled when the twins giggled with delight and hugged her again, and Tot told her that he thought that ‘was just awesome’, especially since she couldn’t quite hide a smile. 

“Not to mention,” Jan went on, “that she’s really under a curse and…” 

“That will be quite enough,” Rini hastily said, not wanting the Nether Scroll to be in any way mentioned, not when Edwina was in a reasonable mood. She bowed politely to Ma Jansen. “And I am Zaerini of Candlekeep, and happy to count Jan among my friends. In fact, that’s why we’re all here. As I understood it, there’s some sort of trouble, and we’d like to help.”

The elderly gnome nodded. “I’m sure Jan appreciates it, lass. Although I don’t rightly know what can be done.” She turned to Jan, and when she next spoke her face was very serious. “Lissa has been staying with us for a while. Her daughter, too. We just thought that you might want to know. She does seem to need your help, with her parents passed on and all.”

Jan took a deep breath, and his voice turned raw with worry. “Is she all right? Did he... did he hurt her?”

Ma Jansen shook her head, and then wiped briefly at her eyes. “Lissa's not hurt. It's the little girl. I gave them your old room. The girl is sick, and Lissa is with her. Why don't you go and talk to her? She's been waiting for you.”

Jan’s eyes were pained, but he nodded, speaking with a kind of forced cheerfulness. “Of course, Ma.” He turned to his companions. “I’d appreciate it if you came along.” Then he turned and headed up the stairs, not looking back. 

Zaerini followed without hesitation, pulling a reluctant Edwina along with her by the hand. Minsc’s heavy footsteps echoed on the stairs behind her, and in her mind the sound turned ominous, like an approaching doom. She didn’t know what lay in wait upstairs, but every instinct in her body screamed that she wouldn’t enjoy it. 

-*-

Anomen found himself walking more and more slowly as he passed through the familiar streets of the Government District of Athkatla. The warm sun that made the marble buildings sparkle, the gentle breeze in the air, none of it eased his heart even the slightest. Every street, every house reminded him of things. He crossed the Government Park, ignoring the flowers, the flowing fountains and the richly dressed nobles who were taking walks there. _Moira used to love coming here. Not to show herself off like some of the ladies do, though she was pretty enough to rival any of them. Just to be free for a short while, and out of our father’s house._

He passed a large estate, an old and elegant mansion made from stone of a warm reddish-brown color. The Firecam estate. _Moira enjoyed the company of Lady Maria I believe. She always said that she was a very nice woman. Moira…_ He bit his lip, trying to hold the tears back. She was dead, his sister was dead. _How? How could the gods allow such a thing to happen, a virtuous young woman with all of her life ahead of her? How could she be allowed to die when evil villains lived to a ripe old age? It’s not fair._

Here was the Jysstev estate now. Anomen didn’t know the current Lord Jysstev except by sight, the Delryn’s weren’t a prominent family in high society these days. All he knew was that Moira had mentioned in her latest letter that the man had just married a young bride. Not her latest letter, no. Her _last_ letter. The realization hit him, his chest contracting painfully. _She will never write to me again. Never._

Anomen blinked, trying to clear his blurred vision, and then he saw it, right in front of him. A green door, the brass knocker shaped like the head of a bull. The green paint was faded, flaking here and there. It had been a long time since his father had spent more money on the estate than was necessary to keep the roof from falling in. The bushes leading up to the door were unkempt, rotting leaves were scattered everywhere rather than neatly swept away. He could see that the windows on the lower floor were closely shuttered and shivered as he stared at the green door. At that moment he would do anything in the world rather than having to walk inside. His father, Lord Cor Delryn would be there, waiting for him, like an old dragon shut inside his cave, hoarding his treasures. _Or hoarding his bottles, I should say._ Taking a deep breath, Anomen forced himself to walk up to the door, step by step. He owed it to Moira. He hadn’t been home in time to save her, but this he could still do for her, and he would. Still, as his fingers convulsively closed around the knocker, he wished that it had been a real dragon inside. That would be far easier to handle. 

The man who opened the door was old, older than Anomen remembered him. Herven had been the butler at the Delryn estate for as long as Anomen could recall, and now his back was bent, his white hair reduced to a fringe around his ears, and his shoulders stooped. With visible joy he greeted the squire, welcoming him home. 

“Thank you, Herven,” Anomen said, trying to keep calm and collected, though he wanted nothing more than to sprint out the door. “Though the reason for it is a horrible one. Tell me…what has happened to my sister?”

The old man’s face turned sad, and he briefly blew his nose. “Oh, it was terrible, sir, terrible!” he said in a quavering voice. “It happened a week ago to this day, and I was the one who found her. The poor young lady…she had such a good heart; I don’t know how anybody could have done such a thing.” He wrung his hands. “Your father wishes to speak with you first, sir, and it is his place to tell you first. He is in the sitting room, resting. But if you wish, come and speak with me afterwards, and I will tell you anything you wish to know.” 

Anomen nodded. It was true, he would have to speak with his father first, much as he loathed the very thought of it. For a few seconds he thought of asking Herven whether his father was badly drunk, but then decided against it. Cor usually was, and now that Anomen had come this far he couldn’t bear the thought of coming back later. He wanted this over and done with, and so he headed off in search of his father, a painful knot of anticipatory dread twisting his stomach. _Grow up, Anomen. You are no longer a child. He cannot harm you._ But that was a lie, and he knew it fully well. True, his father might no longer be able to give him a beating, but Cor Delryn had other ways. Ways and ways. 

It had been a long time since Anomen had last set foot within his father’s house, and he was shocked and saddened to see how rundown it had become. With the grimy windows shuttered it was dark and gloomy, but he could still see the dust on the floors that had been spotless while his mother was alive. And more than dust, there were sticky stains here and there. Anomen’s mouth set in a grim line as he imagined the cause of those stains. He could see it in front of him, his drunken father reeling from room to room, now and then taking deep swigs from the bottle in his hand, spilling as he went. Ranting about his misfortunes most probably, in that whiny, aggressive voice that Anomen so loathed. He also noticed that there was far less furniture than he remembered, the walls were bare, stripped of the paintings that used to hang there, and as he passed an antique cupboard he recalled from his childhood he noticed that the silver that used to be displayed there was all gone. 

_Moira…my poor sister, living in this dismal squalor. Living here with him. This is all my fault. I should have taken you away from here long since, letting him rot and fester alone._ But even as he told himself that, he knew that it wouldn’t have worked. He had asked Moira to leave, more than once, but she had always said no, and refused to even speak of it. She wouldn’t even tell him why. 

“So, the prodigal son returns. Heir to his mother’s foolishness as always.” The voice was harsh, hoarse with years of drunkenness, and brimming with hostility. Cor Delryn sat sunken down in a ratty old armchair in front of the fireplace, clutching a dark bottle as tenderly as a mother might hold her newborn babe. Anomen froze on the threshold to the room, his attention fixed on his father. Cor had once been a strong, muscular man, much like Anomen himself. Now his skin was sallow and unhealthy, his brow glistening with sweat. His eyes, once the same dark blue as Anomen’s own were dull, sunken deep and rimmed with dark circles. His once brown hair was almost entirely gray, his face etched deeply with lines of anger and bitterness, and his once strong body was flabby. Yet, despite his weakened state, there seemed to be a dark and malicious aura hanging about him, one that seeped directly into Anomen’s soul, igniting his fury. His father had always been very good at that. 

“Speak not of my mother, drunkard!” he challenged, spitting out the angry words. “You were never worthy of being her husband!” 

Cor laughed briefly, a condescending laugh. “Yet I was, and your father as well. Never forget that, boy! Your mother would still be alive if you children weren't such a handful.”

The accusation, unfounded, ridiculous and grossly unfair as it was, still hit Anomen like a blow to his stomach, making it difficult for him to breathe. Cor would always do this, throw the most hurtful insults he could think of in Anomen’s face, blaming him for anything and everything. He had thought that he had got used to it and was able to cope with it, that he no longer cared at all about anything his father might say. But no. It still hurt, just as much as ever, and the fact that his father was able to hurt him was a painful humiliation in itself. He clenched his hands into fists, trying to breathe easily despite the throbbing pain in his temples and the black rage that filled his heart. _I am Anomen Delryn, squire and soon to be knight of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart. I will not slay my father._ “Shut your mouth, father,” he spat, hoping that his voice didn’t tremble. “We've had this conversation before and I've not the patience to listen to it again.”

Cor staggered to his feet, his red and angry face and bloodshot eyes suddenly inches away from Anomen’s own. Anomen just had the time to recognize the stench of old vomit and sour wine before his father’s fist struck him full in the face and pain exploded in his cheek. Memories assaulted him at the same time, memories of other beatings long ago. Memories of cowering at his father’s feet, whimpering with fear and pain, memories of crying alone in his room, his body covered with welts and bruises. Most of all, memories of the mind-numbing fear and helplessness, of being weak and powerless to defend himself. “You will listen to whatever I choose to tell you, Anomen”, Cor snarled. “Respect your father, knightling. I am still the man of this family and you will obey me!”

Anomen clutched his swollen cheek, his eyes wide as he stared at his father. For an instant he was that frightened child again, and his father wasn’t a pitiful drunkard but a dangerous giant, powerful and deadly. “Yes, father... I lost my temper and I apologize.” He hated himself for it, for the tremulous note in his voice, and even more for the tears that tried to escape his eyes. 

Cor gave him a satisfied look, then sat down again to take another drink. “It took you long enough to get here. It wouldn't hurt you to come and see your father now and again.” 

Anomen chose not to reply to this, but instead inquired about what exactly had happened to his sister. Amidst a stream of curses, Cor told him, although the account was fairly garbled. He seemed firmly convinced that the culprit was Saerk the Calimshite, his old business rival. The two men had been enemies for years, and although Cor had initially been the more powerful one his drinking habits had made him unfit to manage the family business. These days Saerk’s mercantile business was blooming to the same extent that Cor’s was withering, and the hatred between the two was still as strong as it had ever been. Still Anomen felt puzzled. Undercutting prices, yes. Sabotaging business deals, yes. Spreading nasty rumors to scare off customers, yes. All this and more he would believe of Saerk, and of his father too. But murder? “But why would he kill Moira?” he tried to ask. “She has nothing to do with your enmity.”

“Do you understand nothing?” his father screamed, his face shining with sweat. “He killed her because he could! For years I embarrassed him amongst the merchants, undercut his prices and stole his customers. When my business failed, he had a monopoly on the Calimshan shipping routes. He would not be happy until I had nothing. By the end, Moira was all that I had, and now he's taken her too.”

_Of course. It is all about you, isn’t it?_ “Where were the guards?” Anomen asked, trying to keep his temper. “Why was she not protected?”

“The guards left months ago. I had no money to pay them with. Soon I will lose my house as well. Saerk has taken all of it... all of your mother's and sister's things...”

Dull bitterness filled Anomen’s heart as he watched the pathetic man who was his father. “He didn't take it, father. YOU lost it... you lost it...” _And I am happy mother didn’t have to live to see this day, didn’t have to face the loss of her daughter._

Cor’s mouth twisted into an ugly sneer, and when he next spoke, he did it slowly and deliberately, watching his son in order to better judge the effect of his words. “I lost it because you abandoned your family. If you hadn't run away, Moira would still be alive. You should have been here to protect her! To save her from the brigands!”

Once more Anomen felt himself deflate, his soul beneath his father’s baleful eyes like a naked child in a burning desert. _Moira…he’s right. It is my fault. I should have been here. I failed you…I failed…_ ”I'm sorry. I... I did not know...” His voice sounded weak and pitiful to his ears, broken and defeated. _As I am. A useless, worthless thing. Worthless. Worthless._

There was an unholy satisfaction in Cor Delryn’s eyes by now, and a glint of triumph as well. “You should have been here, Anomen. Never forget that! It is too late to save her, but your work is not yet finished, Anomen.”

_Not finished? How can he say such a thing…Moira…Moira is dead!_

“She can be avenged, Anomen,” his father went on, his voice soft and wheedling. “You must kill Saerk and his son. It is the only way that Moira's spirit can be at rest.”

_Kill Saerk? His son? I…I want Moira’s killer brought to justice but…is this truly the right thing to do? I can’t think…I can’t decide…_ Trying to gather his confused thoughts together Anomen cleared his throat. “I must see Moira's remains first, father. It will take but a moment.”

Cor frowned, and he looked annoyed, but he spoke calmly enough. “Go then. She was cleansed on the pyre and her ashes are kept in an urn by the pool. It was the place that Moira loved most of all.”

Anomen bowed briefly to his father, and then left the room, his mind in turmoil. Never in his life had he more wished for somebody to guide him, to tell him what was the right thing to do. But he had nobody, and this was one test he would have to face alone. He could only pray that he would pass it.


	76. Remembrance

**Cards Reshuffled 76 – Remembrance**

_Torment of the body can be terrible, yes. I should know. But no matter how fiendish it might be there is one person who is better equipped to harm you than anybody else and can torture you far more insidiously than any demon prince. And all you need to do to face that person is to look inside a mirror._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

How had he got here? For that matter, where was ‘here’? Sarevok shook his head, trying to think straight. He could remember marching in the demonic army, determined to break away, to get free. And…yes, he had freed himself. The army had been crossing a mountain range where the ground split into deep gorges filled with bubbling blood, and where the air tore at your lungs like shards of broken glass. And there had been mist, yes. Thick mist the color of pus, thick enough to obscure his movements. There had been a cleft in the rock up ahead, and he had seen his chance, stepping out of his place in the squad, as quietly as he could. He could remember how desperate he had been to avoid discovery, pressing his back flat against the dark stone even as it cut into his flesh. For once he wished he had been trained in the skills of a rogue, and able to hide in plain sight. But the mist had served him well, and the army had passed on without him. 

Under other circumstances the demons would probably have come looking for him, in order to punish the deserter if nothing else. But they had been in a rush, and they wouldn’t have noticed him missing until they had already gone too far to take the trouble of hunting him down. _But somebody else must have found me…else how could I have wound up in this state?_

The rock was still there, right up against his back. Except now he was tightly chained to it, massive iron shackles tethering him to the cliff, arms, legs and throat. Sarevok tugged at his restraints with all his might, grunting with the exertion. It was all to no avail, he remained just as tightly chained as before. _I will not suffer this! Nobody chains Sarevok! Nobody!_ The memories were creeping back now, slowly and insidiously. Yes, he had been hiding from the Blood War army, pressing himself against the black rock. And then…the rock had suddenly pressed back, become liquid and flowed out to entrap him, forming these same chains and shackles. He had fought against it, but even his great strength had not been enough to free himself. Moreover, the more he fought, the more he felt his strength leaking out of him, leaving him weak and helpless. Eventually he had fallen unconscious, quite exhausted. 

_And so I am still here. But not for long. I did not get free of the Blood War only to spend eternity chained to a rock._ Darkness was falling, the bright green sky darkening to black, despite there being no sun whose disappearance would cause such a thing. Sarevok had long since ceased questioning the conditions of the Abyss though. It would be a futile exercise to expect any sense here. He struggled against his restraints some more, as the sky turned even darker. Soon he couldn’t even see the jagged rocks in front of him without straining his eyes. “I…will…not…give up!” he panted, his muscles straining until they ached with the exertion. Sweat was running down his face, across his chest. Where had his armor gone? He knew he had been wearing it before, but now he was down to pants and shirt. It angered him, being without his protective metal husk made him feel weak, and helpless, and that made him furious. _Whoever is doing this, they are doing it to break me. Well, they will not succeed._ Still the chains would not give in, not even one inch. 

“Show yourself,” Sarevok snarled, baring his teeth as he felt his heart pounding within his chest and glorious rage take hold of him. “Show yourself, you who would dare attempt to hold Sarevok against his will!”

“I dare.” 

Sarevok’s head jerked up in confusion. That hadn’t been the voice of a snarling fiend, as he had expected. That had been the voice of a young child. And as he saw the creature coming towards him, he found it suddenly difficult to draw breath. Not just any child this, oh no. It was a young boy, with tan skin and rough black hair, and with amber eyes that were far, far too old for his smooth face. Now and then golden light flared within them, a brief and ominous flash. The child smiled, but there was no innocence in that smile, and far too much bitterness. “I dare,” the boy repeated again. “And you will go nowhere until I am done with you.” 

Sarevok’s eyes narrowed with hostility, and he glared at the apparition before him. “I do not know who you are,” he said, “but you are not me. Ghost, fiend or apparition, you will release me at once or face the consequences!” 

“Face the consequences?” the child scoffed. “You’re a fine one to talk about facing the consequences. It’s not as if you’ve done that yourself yet. But don’t worry, you have all the time in the world…” 

“What do you mean?” Sarevok said, feeling confused. “Of course I have faced the consequences of my actions. I am dead, aren’t I? I am in the Abyss.”

“Ha! That’s nothing.” The child walked closer, staring up into the bound man’s face with an expression of utmost contempt on his face. “You really have no idea what I mean, do you? If you’d wanted to avoid punishment, then you would have stayed in the army. Yes, they would have made you fight and kill, and eventually you might have been destroyed once and for all, or maybe turned into some weaker demon. But that’s not punishment. Punishment, that’s about facing up to the consequences of your actions, as I said. And boy, do you have a lot to face up to…” 

“I care not for your sermons!” Sarevok haughtily said, straining once more against the chains that bound him, ignoring his aching muscles. “Yes, I killed, in order to ascend. And I regret nothing!”

“Nothing?” The young Sarevok’s eyes were glowing fiercely golden by now, and there was a dark amusement in his voice. “I don’t think so. The madness kept it buried, but it is time you remembered exactly what happened in those final days…and then we will see whether you regret or not.” 

And as Sarevok stared helplessly into the burning eyes of his younger self, he felt the world dissolving around him, as his mind went spinning backwards, into another time and place. 

He was standing in a dark place, a place he knew at once. The tunnels beneath Baldur’s Gate, also named ‘The Undercity’. And he was…yes, he was wearing his beloved armor once again. It felt wonderful to once again be encased completely in steel, and he smiled with great pleasure as he lovingly inspected each perfectly crafted spike. _Yes…I always knew I had a strong artistic talent. Even if some people never seemed to properly appreciate it._

There was something odd…Sarevok shifted his feet, checking that the Sword of Chaos rested in its scabbard as it should. Everything seemed to be in order. He could sense the power of his sire buoying him, making him almost float on a wave of dark magic. _Soon…so much death. So many murders. And then the power will be mine, just as he promised._ True, his annoying little sister had…had got into his way again somehow, hadn’t she? Sarevok frowned. He couldn’t quite recall what had happened, only that she had thwarted him…somehow. Well, she would pay for that. She was on her way; he knew that much. _She will come to me, I know it. We are bound, connected, as brother and sister. She will not be able to stay away. And then…then we will fight._

“Oh, come now, Sarevok. You already did that, remember? And it didn’t work the last time, so perhaps you could try actually applying the brain I know you have somewhere inside that atrocious helmet and think this through properly?”

Sarevok turned around, to stare at the man coming up behind him. “Winski?” And it certainly looked like the wizard who had been his friend and mentor ever since he was a young boy, from the haggard face to the cynical and amused glitter in the deeply set eyes. “Winski? Is it really you?” _But why would I feel so surprised at seeing Winski here, he’s meant to help in the fight after all…isn’t he?_ His thoughts were getting confused again, and there was a terrible pounding headache behind his eyes every time he thought of Winski. Something…something he felt he should remember about the wizard, but also something he didn’t want to remember. 

And then he did. 

He was holding Winski by the collar, shoving him up against the wall, snarling into his face. But it wasn’t him doing it, it was as if he was a helpless watcher inside his own body, with no choice but to observe as the one in control acted. _Bhaal. My sire…the blood of him, it burns!_ And it did, he could feel the divine blood burning in the body of his mortal self, inflaming the brain and the senses. ““You lie. Always you lie. She was so close…my sister was within my grasp, and the time of our clashing was upon us, the time when our souls would join as her blood flowed, the time for which even the gods hold their breaths in anticipation. And you…you took me away from her! You are a traitor; I see it now. You have been working against me from the start…planning…plotting in the shadows. My Father spoke true! It…it is all your fault! Traitor! “

_No!_ The present Sarevok’s protest went unheeded, as his past self readied the great Sword of Chaos. _NO! This is Winski…he wouldn’t betray me, would he? I thought he did…but…he was trying to aid me wasn’t he? I can see that now, now that it is too late. He tried to get me to safety, to protect me. And I…I…_

“Yes…” Winski said in a low voice. His eyes were hollow, empty of all other feeling than despair. “Yes, I see it now…it is I who have been the fool. This…all of it…this is all my fault. Do as you will then. It matters not.” 

_Nooooo!_ Sarevok screamed inside his own head, furiously trying to get control over the body he was inhabiting. The worst of it was that he knew it was too late already, knew what was about to happen. How could he not, when he was the one who had done the deed before? And yet he tried. _I will not give up! I never give up! I can do this, I know I can, if only I can be strong enough…_

But his past self was possessed of the same indomitable will that he was, and the same strength, not to mention being ridden by murderous madness. The body smiled a terrible smile, and the sword drove home, impaling the wizard through the belly. Now the body chuckled, a dark and satisfied chuckle, and withdrew the sword again. Dark blood was dripping from it, reminding Sarevok of some of his old dreams. _Blood…wherever I went, I brought bloodshed. Even to those very few people that I loved._

He wanted to howl with rage, to run the sword through his own treacherous body so that the pain would end. But he could do nothing, nothing but watch. As the body turned to walk away, Sarevok could just barely hear the words that his past self had missed. 

Winski’s voice was faint, a shadow of its own self. “Sarevok…” he whispered. “Son…forgive me.”

_No…Winski…no! It’s my fault! I am the one who should ask forgiveness, not you! I should kneel in the dust and beg at your feet for what I did! And I would, if it could bring you back._

For one moment, for one brief and glorious moment something seemed to happen. The body halted, under his command at last, and he tried to force it to obey his will, to turn and rush towards his mentor, attempting to aid him. Then the control slipped again, and Sarevok’s spirit was left to rage in vain, as it rode on within the body it had once inhabited, powerless to stop its progress. 

_I never even turned back. I killed him, he was in pain and dying, and I didn’t even so much as turn back to give him a final look. Winski…please forgive me, wherever you are._

“Do you think he would?” 

Sarevok blinked, trying to clear his vision. It felt suddenly blurred, and his chest was painfully tight and hot. Once again, he was back in his shackles, staring into the golden eyes of the boy who was a perfect likeness of himself as a child. “What…” he said. 

“He loved you, you know,” the child said, his voice cold and merciless. “All he ever wanted was for you to be happy, and he would have done anything for you. And how did you repay that love? In blood.”

“No…” Sarevok breathed. “STOP SAYING THESE THINGS!”

“You didn’t even give him a swift death, with the courtesy of a mercy strike,” the child went on, giving Sarevok a venomous glare. “You left him in agony, to die slowly. Your foes showed him the mercy that you did not.” 

“STOP!” He was screaming now, screaming his voice raw, and he didn’t care. All he wanted was for the images to stop, the terrible memories that kept assaulting him, making him relive the moment when he killed his friend again and again. “STOP! ENOUGH OF THIS!” 

“Oh no, Sarevok,” the child said, and now he was smiling. It was a terrible smile. “This is not enough by any means. In fact, we are only just beginning…”


	77. Conflicting Duties

**Cards Reshuffled 77 – Conflicting Duties**

_Some people think it’s easy to do the right thing, and sometimes it is. But there are plenty of occasions when different people around you have completely opposite ideas about what the ‘right’ thing is. Sometimes, you just have to listen to yourself. Of course, doing so may be a bad idea if you tell yourself that stealing cookies from the jar your Dad hid from you would be great fun. Well, it was. But the scolding wasn’t._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Jan’s old bedroom was mostly round, with a domed ceiling that somebody had once upon a time painted with dancing gnomes in clown outfits. The colors were a little faded, so it had probably been quite some time ago. There was a roof window too, through which sunlight filtered in to glitter in the dust particles floating through the air like dancing pixies. There were odd contraptions stacked everywhere along the walls and on the cluttered workbench standing right beneath the roof window, even more so than downstairs. Zaerini goggled at the strange objects, all of which were heavily endowed with buttons, springs, dials and levers. She couldn’t make out what a single one was supposed to be for. She wondered if even Jan knew. 

The most prominent piece of furniture apart from all the inventions was the bed, which was circular, and covered with a shockingly green and purple quilt that made the half-elf blink. The colors were enough to make her eyes water. There was a small gnome girl lying on the bed, about the same age as the twins. She was entirely still, her small face pale and unmoving, and her eyes were closed. A gnome woman sat on the bed next to the child, holding her hand while she wiped at her eyes with a handkerchief. As she heard the adventurers enter the room she turned around, and Zaerini could tell that by gnomish standards she was probably uncommonly beautiful. Her white hair was the pure color of newly fallen snow, her tanned skin was smooth, and her tear-filled eyes were a clear blue. But most importantly for a gnomish lady, her nose was large enough that it nearly bumped into her chin, a proper snout. 

“Oh, Jan!” she said, smiling feebly. “I've missed you. I wish I'd known you were coming today. I would have prepared a meal for you and your companions. I'm an awful mess.”

Jan stared at her, a wistful look on his face. “You look fine, Lis. You look beautiful.”

“I missed you, Jan. You disappeared for a long time after the wedding, and when you returned, I hardly saw you at all. You should've come to visit me, Jan.”

The little illusionist shook his head. “I couldn't, Lis. I mean, I didn't want to intrude on you and Vaelag. It wasn't my place to.”

Once again, Lissa’s eyes filled with tears. “I'm sorry, Jan. I've been terrible to you. Everything has come crashing down on me. Please forgive me, Jan.”

Jan crossed the room, and gently took her hand between his own. “You don't have to apologize, Lis. I would do anything to make you happy. Tell me what happened. What's wrong with your daughter?”

Between tears, Lissa explained just exactly what was wrong, and what had caused her little daughter Jaella to lie motionless on the bed like a puppet, staring into space. As she heard the story, Rini found herself getting angrier and angrier, to the point where she really wanted to hit something. 

_The girl’s own father did this to her? He hit a little defenseless child hard enough to damage her brain? What kind of monster could do such a thing?_

_Far too many_ , Softpaws said, sounding regretful. _Sounds like she picked the wrong kind of male for certain._

_You can certainly say that. And he’d better not let me catch him, or let Jan catch him for that matter._

Jan’s face had turned hard once again as he listened to the sad story, but his voice was mild as he promised Lissa to help her as well as he could. 

Minsc looked angry too, as well as confused. “Someone has rattled the little one's brains? Hmm, I know how she feels. If this was done on purpose, he deserves a mighty kick in his posterior, at the least!”

“I think,” Edwina said, “that I would prefer to miniaturize him and then stomp on him.” She gave her shiny red boots a loving look. “Such a lovely squishing sound he would make…yes, just perfect. (I may be a fearsome and dangerous wizard, but even I have my limits.)” 

“Right,” Rini said, nodding. “Jan, we’ll help you of course, if there’s anything we can do.” _If only Anomen and Jaheira were here…well, Jaheira will be back soon. She said so. And Ano…I’m worried about him too. We must find him as soon as possible._

Jan nodded, looking grateful. “Thank you, your Worship,” he said. “I was wondering…could you perhaps go down to the basement and talk to my Uncle Gerhardt? He knows a lot about many things, and he might be able to help. I…think I should stay here with Lissa in the meantime.”

“Well…sure, I guess. But wouldn’t it be better to simply take Jaella to a temple? If money’s the problem then don’t worry, we’ve earned enough that we can pay for it.” _Immy…I’m sorry to delay even a moment more than I have to. But you wouldn’t want to leave that little girl without helping her, no more than I would._

“It didn’t work,” Lissa cut in, her tears flowing once again. “I tried…I tried taking her to the temple right after it happened. But they could only heal the damage to her body. There’s something wrong with her mind now they said, like she’s hiding deep inside herself. The priest told me that she might wake up on her own…but…but only if she wants to.” She sobbed again. 

“Do not cry!” Minsc said, patting the distraught mother on the back. “Minsc and Boo will seek out the Gnome Uncle, and fix the little girl right up, until she’s as healthy in the head as Minsc again! And then the boot of Minsc will seek out the buttocks of the Evil Childbeater, and give him such a pounding that he will not sit down for a week!” 

_I think more would be better_ , Softpaws said, her green eyes glowing like lanterns as she looked up at Zaerini. _A male who harms kittens is bad news. Some properly applied fangs will make sure that no female makes the mistake of mating with that one again._

_You know, Softy…I feel really tempted by that thought._

The basement of the Jansen house was wide, like an open cavern, and there was a dank and musty smell to it. This wasn’t altogether surprising, since the larger part of the floor was covered with moist, black dirt. It actually looked quite a bit like a garden, and there was a very bright lantern hanging from the roof, bright enough that it almost resembled a miniature sun. 

“Oh lovely,” Edwina said, wrinkling her nose in a manner that Rini privately decided was utterly adorable. “A gnomish turnip garden. Just the sort of thing I always longed to see when I left Thay.” 

“Don’t grouch,” the bard murmured, slowly letting her fingers trail along the wizard’s arm. “Just wait until tonight, and I’ll see about showing you something that you might appreciate more…” 

At that precise moment, the earth erupted, and a small and extremely dirty figure leapt out of the turnip patch. “BANZAI!” it screamed, and flung itself directly at Minsc, trying to strangle him. The large ranger simply held the kicking and cursing being by one hand, looking curiously at him. “Boo says it is a gnome,” he said, “but Minsc has never seen a gnome this dirty before, and he talks dirty too. Boo shouldn’t have to hear such language. How come he acts like this? Is it because he is a garden gnome?”

“Um…” Rini said, staring at the kicking gnome who by now had moved on to insults involving planar beings, the mating habits of humans, and sausages. “I think this is Jan’s Uncle Gerhardt.”

“Extraordinary,” Edwina said, studying her fingernails. “I never would have thought that his relatives could actually be more insane than he is, despite the insipid stories. If we’re really lucky, a griffin will turn up at any moment and devour this one.” 

“Ssshhh! He might hear you!” 

Uncle Gerhardt’s eyes rolled wildly in his dirty face, and the white fringe of hair around his head stuck out in all directions beneath the pointy and equally dirty hat he was wearing. “What? WHAT?” he sputtered. “Who in the blazes are ye? Small noses, rancid smell... hmm... be ye gibberlings?”

“We are not gibberlings!” Minsc proudly stated. “We are all Heroes of Goodness, Kindness and Righteous Buttkicking.” 

Edwina cleared her throat. 

“Except for the Evil Girl Wizard, but if little Rini wants to do cuddly things with her then Minsc must let that pass. Besides, Minsc’s mother always told him to be nice to girls. Only bad boys hit girls.”

“I refuse to be patronized!” Edwina protested, angrily crossing her arms across her impressive bosom. “I may currently be a woman, but that doesn’t mean I’m some sort of frail little ninny who requires special treatment! I _demand_ that you hit me and…oh…wait a moment…” 

“And this,” Minsc continued, ignoring her, “is Boo, who is a Giant Miniature Space Hamster, and Minsc’s partner in Fighting Evil. Say hello to the dirty garden gnome, Boo!” Boo squeaked approvingly. 

“Eh?” Uncle Gerhardt said, squinting up at Minsc who was still holding him aloft. “What was that? Oh, I recognize him all right…though he’s much smaller than he used to be.” He tickled Boo under the chin, and the hamster gave him an icily affronted look. “Still in hiding are ya, old fellow?” 

Zaerini exchanged a confused look with Edwina, who simply shrugged and rolled her eyes. “Look,” the half-elf tried, “we’re friends of your nephew Jan. We’ve come to see you about a little girl, Jaella. She’s ill, and Jan thought you might know something about how to cure her.” 

“Cure? What cure? You’re not trying to steal my sausages are you?”

“No,” the bard said, trying to rein her temper in. “We don’t mean to steal your sausages.”

“Well, I don’t believe you! Untrustworthy big folk, scavengers and thieves, the lot of you!” 

“Minsc is no thief, no sir!” Minsc protested, dangling the gnome back and forth. “We only want to help the poor hurt little girl and then give the bad gnome who beat her a good smacking and a taste of sharp hamster teeth.” 

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” Uncle Gerhardt snapped. “Poor lass - WHERE'S THAT CURSED POTION?”

“What potion?” Edwina blankly asked. “This gnome is clearly insane; I say we leave him.” 

“We can’t,” Rini said, “we promised Jan.” She turned to Uncle Gerhardt again, trying to sound relaxed and calm. “So, do you know how to heal Jaella?”

To her surprise, the gnome actually nodded. “Tis a hurt of the mind. Only one rich in such powers can heal her.”

“Oh, that is easy then!” Minsc said. “Boo is powerful in the mind; he will help her! Will it be enough for him to cuddle her, or should he lick her as well?”

Uncle Gerhardt shook his head. “The Hidden is the one you seek. Go to Jysstev at her estate in the Government District. She shall lead you to the Hidden. Now where's that sausage...” As Minsc sat him down to the floor he continued to mutter to himself. “Another one seeks the Hidden too…and another seeks _her_ , but she knows it not.” He giggled insanely. “The lovely ladies, ladies three…red, black and white…oh such a party it will be!” 

“Bye bye,” Minsc said, waving at the still giggling gnome. “Minsc and Boo are grateful for your help, Mr Garden Gnome.” 

“You’re welcome,” Uncle Gerhardt muttered. “Nice to speak to somebody who makes sense for once…” 

-*-

“Um…Jan?” Zaerini said, clearing her throat. Her friend was sitting on a chair by the bed where poor little Jaella lay, speaking quietly with Lissa. 

Jan turned around, and then nodded understandingly. “I see from the look on your face that you've talked to Uncle Gerhardt. I should have better explained the situation. Gerhardt is a well-known and respected physician and scholar. He had risen above the poverty that plagues this family so. As you have seen, he's no longer the same.”

“Oh really?” Edwina said. “I never would have noticed anything odd at all about him if you hadn’t mentioned that. (Insane. These gnomes are all insane. I hope it’s not contagious.)”

“What happened to the garden gnome?” Minsc asked. “Did he get hit on the head like Minsc? If so, he should see about getting himself a hamster, Boo makes certain that Minsc doesn’t have to think too hard, since that hurts in the head.” 

“Well,” Jan said, “About a decade ago, my Uncle was hired to treat a rather unsavory fellow, a thief named Ralg. It was fairly obvious that Ralg was a high-ranking Shadow Thief. He had power and money, two things more than rare in Athkatla without family connections. Ralg was also daring. There are places in this city where no sane man treads, places in the bowels of the earth that have the most powerful drow clerics quaver with fear at the mere mention of their cursed names. Ralg set into motion the systematic plunder of these places. He was a modern man, not given to the superstitious fears of the plebian masses.”

“Good for him,” Edwina approved, her eyes lighting up with sudden interest. “Hm, just out of curiosity, what kind of treasure was it?”

“Nobody knows. The story goes that Ralg was found in the old Temple of Bhaal, gibbering and mad with fear. Uncle Gerhardt, an expert in odd conditions, was called to treat the ravaged man. As my Uncle had learned through his studies, these afflictions can never be treated without knowledge of their cause. Since none but Ralg had survived the trip, my Uncle made the foolish decision to travel to these unholy places, in search of this knowledge.”

Zaerini suddenly felt a little weak-kneed, and she had to support herself against the wall. “A…a temple of Bhaal? Are you sure?” 

Jan nodded. “Oh yes. Nasty place, or so I understand. Uncle Gerhardt shouldn’t have gone there.” He went on to describe how his uncle had returned as a shadow of his former self, clearly insane, but not in quite the same way that Ralg had been. “He has become a prophet of sorts. He predicts events, some small and some of portent. During the Time of Troubles, his gift was particularly evident. He seemed to know everything. He'd rage and stumble about the basement screaming of slaughtered gods and tumultuous magic.”

“Right. Time of Troubles, dead gods.” Rini could hear how dead her voice sounded, and she caught Edwina giving her a very worried look. “Should have known that would be involved somehow.” _I can’t get away from him, can I? Dead he may be, but my sire’s influence is still strong._ “What now? He mentioned that someone called The Hidden can cure Jaella, somebody known by ‘Jysstev’. Ring any bells?”

Jan pursed his lips, thinking. “The Jysstevs live in the Government District, not that I know them in person. I don’t know who ‘The Hidden’ could be though. Will you help me find out?”

“Of course,” the half-elf said. “Though we must take some time to look for Ano too, at least make certain that he got home all right even if he doesn’t want to talk to me. We’ll help Jaella if we can, don’t worry.” _And I just hope that ‘The Hidden’ doesn’t turn out to be some crazy Bhaal priest bent on killing me and using my blood to resurrect Daddy or something._ “So…are you coming with us, Jan?” 

The gnome nodded. “Yes, I am.” He gave Lissa an apologetic shrug. “I’d like to stay here to keep you company, Lis. You know I would. But I can help you far better if I go along to search for Jaella’s cure, you understand that, don’t you?”

Lissa nodded, biting her lip. “Yes…yes, of course I do. Thank you for everything, Jan. And the rest of you too, for trying to help Jaella.”

“Good,” Jan said, patting her clumsily on the back. “Well…we’ll just go then. We won’t be long, Lis, I promise you.” 

-*-

Anomen was sitting on a marble bench inside the small atrium where Moira had spent much of her free time. _And is spending it still._ He tried to shake the morbid thought off, but it was no use. The room was small, blissfully cool compared to the hot streets outside, and clean compared to the rest of the house, even if he noticed that some of the floor tiles were cracked and others missing. The water in the rectangular pool was still fresh, even if the goldfish all seemed to be gone, and he bent down and splashed some of it on his face, hoping that it would help clear his thoughts. Eventually he had to look up again though, and his eyes fell upon the thing that was standing on a shelf on the wall opposite him. An urn. A plain ceramic urn. There could have been anything inside. Water maybe, or wine. Salt. Sugar. But he knew what this particular vessel contained; he knew it all too well. Ashes. Dry, dead ashes, the sole remains of his poor sister. 

_Moira…what am I going to do?_ Anomen clenched his fists, trying to remind himself to keep breathing despite the pain that threatened to tear his soul asunder. _What would you want me to do?_

The urn didn’t answer, and no apparition of his dead sister came to answer his plea. Why had his father cremated her already? Had her body been that badly damaged, that there was no chance of even attempting to Raise her? _Father wouldn’t have had the money, I suppose. He would rather spend that on more drink, than on trying to save his daughter. But even so…why didn’t he wait for me, once he had sent for me? I couldn’t have been certain to succeed, but I would have tried, of course I would have tried! I would have done anything for Moira’s sake, didn’t he know that?_ Of course, it was possible that his father hadn’t wanted to wait longer, what with the…heat. A small sob escaped Anomen’s throat as he thought of that. _Or maybe the old bastard simply wanted to deny me the chance to look upon her face one last time._ He tried to will that thought away, despite his nasty suspicion that his father well might have done such a thing. _This isn’t about you Anomen. This is about Moira. Now think. What would she want you to do?_

She would want him to do the right thing, naturally. But what was the right thing, under these circumstances? _Father speaks of vengeance, and I do want the one responsible for this brought to justice. It would feel good to slay them…so very good. I would like to tear them to pieces, to feel their blood flowing over my hands. Saerk and his son…what was his name again? Yusef, yes, that was it. Father is so certain it was them. And they might have done it…but I do not know that. And yet, if they go free, and they are the guilty ones, could I ever forgive myself?_

Anomen raked his fingers through his hair, considerably messing up the brown curls. He didn’t want to do this alone, more than anything he wanted to be able to ask somebody for advice. That would take the responsibility off his shoulders, wouldn’t it? If somebody told him what to do? There had always been somebody around to tell him what to do, all his life. Father certainly didn’t hold with disobedience in any way and had forceful ways of teaching his son that lesson. _But I did defy him. I ran from him, I entered the Order against his wishes._ Of course, that had meant trading one authority for another, though his superiors in the Order were good and righteous men whom it had mostly been a joy to serve. Still, they were not here right now, and his father was, and defying his father had always been…hard. Oh, he might put up a strong and defiant façade, but he knew better. Deep within he knew he was still that frightened little boy, the one who trembled before his father’s wrath. Hadn’t he instantly folded before his father only today, as soon as Cor raised his voice? 

For the first time he found him grateful that Zaerini wasn’t around at the moment. _I wouldn’t have wanted her to witness that humiliation. She…may not love me, but I do not want her to despise me. Still, I would have liked to be able to ask her advice._

But the half-elf wasn’t here to tell him what to do. Nor were his superiors in the Order. If he didn’t want to simply follow his father’s order this was a decision he would have to make for himself. _And I have to make the right one, this is too important not to._ Then he thought of something. There was nobody here he could ask directly for advice, but wasn’t he a priest of Helm? Yes, that was it. He would petition his Lord, ask him for a sign, any sign. At least it could do no harm. 

Kneeling down on the broken tiles by the pool, Anomen closed his eyes and tried to relax his mind. _My Lord Helm, Your humble servant begs your attention. I have an important choice to make, and my heart is torn asunder over it. My soul cries out for justice, and yet I hesitate. You value duty above all, but which is the more important duty here? Whom can I trust with making this vital a choice for me?_

Hesitant, not daring to hope for a reply, Anomen opened his eyes. Of course, his god would not answer him. Why would the Watcher bother with an insignificant man like himself, one who hadn’t even been knighted yet? One whom his own father despised? He looked over at the corner where he had placed his shield. It was still leaning against the wall, and below the family crest he saw his own face reflected in the shiny surface, looking back at him. Strange…his eyes seemed filled with more resolve than he himself felt. _Whom can I trust with making my choice for me…of course!_ He had known it deep down of course, though he hadn’t wanted to really admit it to himself, but now it all seemed perfectly clear. _This is my responsibility. True, if I could, I would ask for advice, but the final decision would still have to be my own. It is mine and mine alone to make, and I know now what it must be if I wish my shield to remain unstained._

He could not slay Saerk, not now, not without evidence that the man was truly guilty of Moira’s death. If he did, and it later turned out that Saerk had been innocent then…no, that didn’t bear thinking about. If Saerk was guilty he needed to be brought to justice, in the proper fashion. Surely the Magistrate would help if only evidence could be found. So, the first step to take would have to be learning what he could about Moira’s murder. Then he would be better equipped to make a proper decision, as befitted a true knight of the Order. 

Anomen smiled, and despite the sadness that still filled his heart when he looked upon Moira’s sad remains, he also felt content. He knew that rashness was one of his greater faults, a tendency to let himself be ruled by his anger and make decisions in haste that he later regretted. This would not be one of those times, and his father would simply have to accept that. Perhaps Cor would even respect him for his integrity and honor and…no, probably not. He knew his father, after all. 

_Bah. Let him rant and rave and curse me as much as he likes. My course is clear. I will not be his blind and unthinking instrument of vengeance, instead I will let the Everseeing Eye of Helm be my guidance and consider every step before taking it. Whoever slew Moira will be made to pay for it, but it will happen on my terms. I am a man now; no longer a boy, and he will not force me to go against my conscience._

Pleased with himself, Anomen rose, giving the urn on the shelf a final, loving glance. “I will see justice done for you, my sister,” he said. “I swear to you that I will, and I swear that whatever happens you will be able to feel proud about the way I exact it.” 

With that he turned around and went to face his father. 

-*-

Meanwhile, Jaheira was reaching a decision of her own. She was standing in an elegantly furnished office, too elegant for her tastes, and she was eyeing the man in front of her suspiciously. “Very well,” she said. “I will ask her to come here, but only since you have sworn that the Herald means her no harm.”

“Of course,” the man sitting behind the desk told her, smiling slightly. “As I said, not a hair on her head will be harmed. You have my promise on that, my dear.” 

“Good,” the druid said. “And I will hold you to it, Galvarey.” She reached forward across the desk, grabbed the man by the collar and glared into his eyes, their noses almost touched. “And do not call me ‘my dear’, Galvarey, ever again. I do not like you; I do not trust you, and I only go along with this because you have the Herald’s blessing.”

“As you wish,” the man called Galvarey coughed, and then he rubbed at his throat as Jaheira let him go. “But do not worry, Jaheira.” He smiled again. “The Herald and I…are in one mind about this affair.”


	78. The Last Hours Of Isaea Roenall

**Cards Reshuffled 78 – The Last Hours Of Isaea Roenall**

_Now, one important thing to consider when you settle down with your beloved is a home defense system. After all, if you’re a powerful adventurer you probably have a powerful foe or two. Personally, I have both Jansen-brand exploding turnips and miscellaneous other odd stuff, as well as some really nasty traps courtesy of my immediate family. But to each his own, and there is also something to be said for a sturdy zombie…_

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Finally, it was time for all this nonsense to stop, Isaea Roenall mused. Just a few short hours, and then he would have his bride-to-be, not to mention the castle that rightfully ought to be his. The young nobleman took a final long look at himself in the mirror, satisfied with the sight that met him. His bright red hair had been slicked back with enough hair oil to feed a family of four for a week, the numerous freckles on his face carefully powdered over – and yes, there it was. A perfect little mouche on his left cheek, one shaped exactly like…well, like a body part not normally found decorating a person’s face, or even displayed in public. An objective observer might have noticed that there was something pinched and unpleasant about his mouth with its thin lips, or that his shallow blue eyes had a look of extreme arrogance about them. He twirled his moustache between his fingers, and then frowned. There was a hair out of place. Well, some more wax would soon take care of that. _Ah. Perfect._ Isaea smirked at his reflection, marveling that the gods could have seen fit to create such a wonder of perfect masculinity. Speaking of which…yes, there was a highly satisfying bulge in his tights. _If that doesn’t impress Nalia I don’t know what will. Why, if she’s a good girl I may just let her touch it._ Yes…it was truly marvelous what could be achieved with a strategically placed sock or two. Or three, now that he thought of it. Three would definitely be better. 

As he was ramming the third sock into place Isaea considered his plans for the evening. Taking Keep De’Arnise and Nalia De’Arnise into his protective custody shouldn’t pose a particularly difficult problem. After all, he was a captain of the guard, and had the law on his side. Technically at least, and if there weren’t any witnesses to contradict the testimony he planned to give. 

_The girl is clearly unbalanced. Rejecting me, her fiancé, to take up with some…some wizard! Scandalous! And after all the trouble I went to in order to get those trolls and yuan-ti here in order to kill her idiot father._ Idly he wondered just where Lord Firkraag had managed to procure all those monsters in the first place, but then shrugged. The man was a noble, yes, and very wealthy, but there was something Isaea didn’t really like about him, as if he was laughing quietly at everybody around him. _No, Firkraag isn’t really One of Us, is he? Just some jumped-up country lord, really._

Of course, Firkraag was a marvel of respectability compared to that wizard Nalia had taken up with. _A wizard! Revolting! He’ll probably try to make her dabble in magic even more than previously too. Well, once she’s my wife I’ll soon put an end to that little fancy. Wives should be quiet and obedient, and if she needs teaching then I will be happy to do so._

There was no way the plan couldn’t work. He would take a small group of soldiers with him, that should be enough. Not to lay siege to the castle, oh no. But those…peasant adventurers that Nalia had employed to kill the trolls had entered through a secret entrance, and Isaea had learnt of where it was located. _Poor little Nalia with her bleeding heart. No matter how much you do for them, there are always some servants disgruntled enough to betray you. Far better to rule them by fear, they don’t understand about higher emotions after all._ So, the secret entrance it would be. Then all they would need to do would be to slaughter that odd wizard of Nalia’s and any other foe inside the Keep. There shouldn’t be too many either. Over the time since the Keep had been liberated just about all of the Keep De’Arnise’s former servants had resigned from their posts, including what few men-at-arms had survived the troll attack. _Odd though that none of them would tell me exactly why they were so keen to leave. Oh well. I suppose they got tired of Nalia and her soft ways. Deep down they want to be ruled by a firm hand. And so does Nalia. She simply doesn’t know how lucky she is to have a man like me take notice of her, that is her problem. A woman ruling…ha! What a ludicrous idea. Women are fit for no such thing._

Isaea had visited Keep De’Arnise before, more than once, and the road was familiar to him as he and his companions rode towards the castle. And yet…there was something strange about it as well. For one thing, what had happened to the trees that used to line this road? They were all dead, naked branches stabbing blindly at the red evening sky like black lightning. Had there been some sort of strange plague? Or was it the trolls who had done it somehow? And the trees were making noises too; he could hear them clearly even over the hoofs of his horse. Whispering, furtive noises, like mumbling voices. Now and then there was a hiss, and what sounded like faint laughter. The mercenaries were hardened men, used to battle, but they were starting to look across their shoulder, trying to see where the sound was coming from. 

_Nonsense. It’s the wind in the trees. Just the wind. Nothing more, nothing less. Certainly no voices. Stay calm._

Eventually they neared the Keep, and for a short while Isaea felt relief. The drawbridge was up of course, but that was only to expected at this time of night. He wouldn’t need to cross it anyway. Silently he headed towards the secret entrance. It was here that he came across his first obstacle. 

“A moat?” Isaea exclaimed, staring at the black water that went all the way up to the fortress wall. “There wasn’t a moat here before! How could they possibly have had time to build one?”

“Magic, that’s what,” one of the soldiers, a hook-nosed man named Bern muttered. “I hear tell them mages can do just about anything…that’s how come we need the Cowled Wizards to keep an eye on ‘em. And you never said anything about fighting mages!” 

“There is only one mage,” Isaea scoffed. “Kill him while he’s still asleep, and he can do you no harm. Now get in the water, go over there and find the entrance for us.” 

The man muttered, but he went into the water all the same, and slowly proceeded towards the other side. The water didn’t seem too deep, fortunately, no deeper than that they could wade all the way. At least they wouldn’t have to swim in the dark. “I’m almost there!” Bern called out. “Almost…there…” And then he screamed, a loud and bloodcurdling sound, and Isaea watched in horror as something reared out of the water. A tentacle as thick as a tree trunk wrapped itself around the unfortunate Bern’s waist, and there was a ghastly, ripping sound as the man was torn in two. More tentacles shot out of the water, pale pink things covered in slime, and there were eyes along them, hundreds of luminous little evil eyes, and mouths filled with sharp little teeth. As he watched the moat’s guardian eat his supper Isaea tried to scream, but he was too petrified to get the sound out.

Finally, it was over. The tentacles turned towards the surviving soldiers, nodding and dancing, beckoning their invitation as the mouths opened and closed hungrily. “We…will go back to the drawbridge,” Isaea eventually managed to say.

“But my lord…”

“Shut your mouth, peasant!” Isaea screamed, spittle flying into the daring soldier’s face. “You dare contradict me? I have come here to take what is mine, and I will have it! Now you will all come with me, or you will all be hung!” 

He gave his horse a savage kick, making the beast leap forward, and spurred it on towards the drawbridge. Nalia always used to complain about the way he treated his horses and servants. _Ha! Kind words! That is for weaklings, fools who go around saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and think it somehow makes them special. Only I am honest enough to let people know what kind of lowly worms they really are, inferior in every way. You will never catch me saying please to anybody. I am Isaea Roenall, and such is beneath me._

When he reached the drawbridge once again, Isaea was a little taken aback. This time, it was down, providing him with an open and easy way into the keep. It was completely dark by now, and the only light came from the pale and gibbous moon above him. And the trees…the trees seemed closer to the castle than they had been before, pressing in. Now there were definitely words to be heard among the whispering branches. 

_Come play Isaea…come play with us…we are all waiting for you…_

“No…” he breathed, staring wildly into the dark branches. “No! Leave me alone, all of you!” 

“My lord, what are you saying?” That was Jaril, his second in command, and the man sounded truly worried. 

_Come play Isaea…come join us!_ There was laughter, sweet and trilling laughter, and now he could recognize at least one of the voices. Nalia. 

“They are…in the trees!” Isaea whispered. “But they will not take me. I will rule this Keep!” Once again spurring the horse on, he thundered across the drawbridge, leaving the startled soldiers behind. He rode at a gallop, straight into the dark mouth that was the entrance to Keep De’Arnise, and never again was Isaea Roenall seen in the world of men. As he rode across the drawbridge, he could hear the sudden shouts from his men receding behind him, and then they were suddenly cut off. He whirled the horse around, to find himself staring into a blank, wooden wall. The drawbridge had been closed behind him, without making so much as a single sound. 

“Who did that?!” Isaea screamed, trying to see if anybody was moving about on the ramparts above the main gate. “Come down and show yourself, cur!” Only silence answered him, but then there was a loud creak from behind, that made every hair on his body stand on edge. The door to the Keep had swung open. 

_They are playing with me_ , Isaea thought, even as he stumbled towards the door. There was nowhere else to go but forward, after all. _But I will teach them. I will teach them all. I am Isaea Roenall, perfect specimen of manhood. No little magic-using girl and her weakling wizard paramour will scare me off._ He went inside, and the door shut itself behind him, with the echoing and hollow sound of a closing tomb. 

The corridors of Keep De’Arnise were dark, darker than Isaea remembered them. And once again there were those whisperings, voices almost too low to hear. _Welcome to my house, Isaea. You shouldn’t have come here, Isaea, not after I warned you to stay away. But now that you are here anyway…_

And now there was another voice, male but oddly high-pitched. _Ooooh, it’s an agent of the Rabbits, isn’t it, my sweet? We must take very good care of him._ A highly disturbing giggle followed. 

What was that, running down the walls? It looked like…blood. Isaea wasn’t squeamish, but he felt bile rising in his throat at the sight. He had his sword out by now, and he wiped at his brow, trying to clear the sweat away. It came away sticky with powder. “Show yourselves!” he shouted, but his voice came out as a hoarse croak. “Show yourselves, cowards!” The walls seemed to be pressing in on him now, with pale and stern portraits of old De’Arnise ancestors glaring down at him in contempt. He could swear he saw the eyes moving. “SHOW YOURSELVES!” He pulled frenetically at every door he passed, but they were locked, all locked, and would not yield to him.

Now there was another door in front of him, and unlike the others it did open at his touch. Isaea stopped at the threshold, staring. The walls of the entire room were covered with mirrors, and so was the floor and the ceiling. His own sweaty, disheveled face stared back at him, reflected a hundred times and more. 

“Do you like what you see, Isaea?” Nalia’s voice spoke from one of the mirrors. “You always were vain, but you didn’t used to look this scruffy.” One of the mirror images rippled and changed, and now it was Nalia’s face smiling at him, the same sweet and perky smile that he remembered. Her rosy cheeks were the same as well, but the hair, the hair was black as midnight, and there was something disturbingly knowing about her eyes. And now the smooth surface of the mirror bulged outwards, and Nalia stepped out of it, and stood before him, still smiling. She was wearing black, a long and trailing lacy dress, and long gloves. “What do you want, Isaea?” she asked, and the smile never left her face. 

It was here that Isaea made his final, and fatal mistake. Had it been anybody else, he might have been cowed. But this was just foolish, sentimental little Nalia, and that made him rash. “I have come for you, Nalia!” he stated, haughtily drawing himself up. “It is time you ceased this foolish pretense of running the Keep, and turned it over to me, your lawful husband.” 

Nalia shrugged. “You are not my husband, Isaea, and you never will be. As far as I’m concerned you are lower than pond scum, and the very thought of touching you revolts me.” The smile turned a little dreamy. “Besides, I already have a fiancé.” 

“What? That scrawny wizard of yours? Preposterous! How could he possibly measure up to me? I am Isaea Roenall, and you should be honored that I deign to marry you and teach you better manners, something your father seems to have sadly neglected!” 

At once, Nalia’s smile disappeared. “Yes,” she said. “My father. How did those trolls come to be here, Isaea? It was you, wasn’t it?”

“Ha!” Isaea scoffed, trying to smooth his waxed red hair down, and to smear the powder on his face into a more even consistency. “You have no proof of any such thing, you silly little girl! Now you will honor the commitment you made to me, or I will have you declared legally insane and given into my custody, as this so-called engagement of yours is clearly a sham.” He sneered. “Really my dear, you ought to stop trying to shift the blame around here. If you hadn’t been so reluctant, I wouldn’t have needed those trolls in the first place…so I suppose we both know who really killed your father, don’t we?”

“Insane? Did somebody say insane?” This voice was male, and it came from another mirror, right behind Nalia. A man stepped out of it, a wizard in dark green and gold robes, and with a face covered with hideously grotesque tattoos. “We can’t have insane people here, no no! They will frighten all the CRAZIES!” He giggled. Then he frowned and turned to Nalia. “What is wrong, dearest? Did the star-shaped Old Ones come by again, to try selling cookies with little screaming people on?”

“Noooo!” another voice cried out in a singsong from behind yet another mirror. Lady Delcia stuck her head out, her face looking grimy and wrinkled from beneath a mop of shaggy gray hair. The mad glint in her runny eyes made Isaea take an involuntary step backwards. “She’s just upset because he told her he killed her father. Oh, and he’s being very rude, he hasn’t even bowed properly, and there she is the proper Lady De’Arnise and everything.” She leered at Isaea. “Go on, you rude boy! Bow, or be bowed!” Then she cackled loudly and started singing to herself, still only partially out of the mirror. “Liver of a weakling foe…in the cauldron it will go!” Her voice echoed strangely, so that she almost seemed to be singing a duet with herself. “Double double toil and trouble, pop his eyes and watch them bubble…” 

“Madmen…” Isaea breathed. “Everybody in this house is insane!” He raised his sword, clenching it tightly as he prepared to lunge at the tattooed wizard in front of him. “Well, there will be a new order here, you mark my words! Starting now!” He plunged forward, prepared to feel his sword impact with soft flesh. Instead, he found himself dropping to the ground, with a terrible burning pain searing at the back of his legs. Somebody was sitting on his back, driving their knees into it, making it very difficult to breathe. 

“An’ here I thought you were told to bow an’ all,” a raspy voice said into Isaea’s ear, and as he carefully turned his head, he found a grinning halfling face staring back at him. A very unsavory halfling it was, and the bloody short sword pressing against Isaea’s kidneys didn’t make the first impression any better. “Guess it took cuttin’ yer tendons to drive the lesson home. Slow learner, eh?” 

“Of course he is, Monty!” the tattooed wizard said. “And we can’t have slow learners here, he could be a bad influence on poor little Abduh…” He snapped his fingers, then smiled brightly. “There you are Abduh! Take care of that naughty slow learner, would you?”

“Urrrrrrghhhh!” The terrible sound came from directly behind Isaea, and the by now weeping nobleman found himself hoisted into the air, an enormous hand gripping him by the neck, and another holding him by the waist. “Urrrghhh urrrrghhh urrrrghhh!” Isaea really didn’t want to see what was making those dreadful slurping noises, it was bad enough that there was a strong sense of rot and embalming fluid stinging his nostrils. 

“Nalia!” Isaea whimpered, holding his hands out pleadingly. “Please, you can’t let them treat me like this! You…you are a noble like I am, you were to be my bride! I…I am a specimen of perfect manhood, how can you let that pass you by?” 

Once again Nalia was smiling, that same sweet little smile, but her eyes were cold. “Isaea Roenall, you killed my father. There is only one thing I have to say regarding you.” She snapped her fingers. “Abduh…off with his head.” 

_Please…_ Isaea tried to say, even as he felt the wrenching pain and heard the disgusting cracking sound. _Please, I don’t want to die!_

Then, there was blackness. And then, much to his regret he learnt that his wish had been granted.


	79. Party Preparations and Palavers

**Cards Reshuffled 79 – Party Preparations and Palavers**

_Sometimes you simply must face what you fear, and speak what is really in your heart, no matter what happens. It could be painful, but it is often well worth the risk. Note to self: Don’t apply this principle to Mother-in-Law’s taste in decorating, or things are bound to get painful._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“So, this is the Jysstev estate, is it?” Zaerini said, watching the grandiose building in front of her. “Not bad.”

“They’re a rich family,” Jan said. “One of the old merchant families of Athkatla, if not as old as the Spewings and the Gaggingtons.”

“The who and the what?”

“The Spewings and the Gaggingtons,” the gnome explained. “Very old merchant families in the massage oil business, very powerful. Fight like cats in a sack all the time, you know, they both claim to have invented the turnip-scented massage oil first, and whoever gets that will corner the entire gnomish market, so you can see how crucial it is. First one will double-cross the other, then the second will retaliate. And they keep jumping into bed with each other’s relatives too and fathering illegitimate children on each other. Hardly a month goes by without some lost sibling or unknown child turning up, or without somebody unjustly accused of murder, or going insane, being kidnapped or fighting a court battle over turnip oil or the custody of the family parrot, a remarkably intelligent bird who can swear in seven languages and…” 

“Yes, yes, all right,” Edwina said. “We get the picture. (Preposterous as it is. Long lost relatives…ha!)” 

“Boo can swear too,” Minsc contributed, “although Minsc has tried to teach him not to use naughty words. Now he just uses words Minsc can’t understand instead.” 

“Right…” Zaerini said, pulling her fingers through her red hair in a vain effort to make it look less wild and tangled. “Let’s see what this Lady Jysstev has to say about ‘The Hidden’ then.” 

The main problem with this course of action turned out to be actually getting inside the house to see the lady in question. The door was answered by a very stroppy-looking butler, who icily informed the adventurers that ‘Lady Jysstev never gives at the door’, and then shut said door in their faces. “Great,” Rini fumed. “Just great. Now what?”

“Minsc will apply his Boot of Justice to the Evil Door, and the Splinters of Villainy will fly everywhere!” 

“Clumsy as one might expect of a Rashemite,” Edwina said. “A simple fireball will soon remove all traces of that door. (As well as that insolent servant, one might hope.)” 

Jan and Zaerini exchanged a long look. “Thank you both,” the bard eventually said. “Let’s…let’s call those Plan B and Plan C, all right? But in the meantime, I think I’d like to figure out an option that won’t bring the city guards down on us and won’t make the lady denounce us all as bandits. We do want her help, after all.” 

Shortly thereafter a red cat, followed by a black one, climbed one of the trees standing outside the Jysstev estate and edged their way out along one of the branches that approached the open windows on the second floor. The branch was far too thin to bear the weight of a human, but the cats managed fine, even though the branch swayed in an alarming manner whenever they moved too swiftly. Zaerini tried not to think of what she was doing and let her feline form work without her conscious interference. That wasn’t too easy though. Whenever the branch moved her stomach wanted to leap out of her mouth. _Don’t look down…don’t look down…don’t look down…_ She normally wasn’t afraid of heights, but the swaying motion was almost too much too bear. 

_Careful now kitten_ , Softpaws warned her. _Slow and steady, and don’t look down._

_I’m trying not to! I’m just…ooooh…_ Zaerini felt every hair along her back standing on edge as she accidentally turned her gaze downwards and saw the ground, far, far below her. The anxious faces of her companions looked like little pale dots from up here. _Oh crap…_ Her claws dug themselves deeply into the branch, and she closed her eyes, frozen with terror. 

_Kitten, don’t worry. I’m right behind you._ The black cat gently touched a cold nose to her back, nudging her a little. 

_Don’t worry? Don’t worry? Why did I ever come up with this idea, I must have been crazy._

_Now you’re being silly, kitten. You can do this, I promise. Just go on, the window isn’t far off. All it will take is a little leap._

Then there was a pair of little hands hugging her tightly, and Insufferable’s small and wrinkled face stared cheerfully back at her. The little monkey was hanging upside-down from a higher branch with annoying ease, and now he suddenly let go with his hind feet, made a somersault and landed right beneath her nose. _She’s right, pretty cat-lady! It’s easy, really. Here, I’ll show you._ With that the monkey started walking on his hands along the branch, now and then waving his tail at her. _See? You can do it, I know you can._ Then he sat down on the branch and gave her a cheeky grin. _Besides, if you don’t move soon, my person will probably faint._

_Edwina…gods, she isn’t watching this through the familiar link, is she?_

_Well, she was. Right up until I wanted to play a little, then she got all queasy and had to lie down for a bit._

The red cat peered downwards, trying to catch sight of her lover, then immediately regretted her action. 

_Go on kitten_ , Softpaws urged her again. _One paw at a time. You’ll see how easy it goes. And remember, if you don’t go on, you’ll have to climb all the way down instead. Unless you want to stay up here and need to get rescued._

_No! I don’t need to be rescued._ With sheer stubbornness driving her on she made herself walk slowly forward along the swaying branch, one leg, then another. Finally, finally she had the window straight ahead. It wasn’t fully open, but the crack should be enough. _Just one little leap. I can do this. I…no, I can’t do this._   
And then there was a sudden nip at her heels, and she was being pushed forward. Her body instantly took over, flinging her into the air, sailing across the gap between the tree and the window. She landed softly on the thick carpet beneath the window, shifted back into her normal body and curled up in a ball on the floor, trying not to vomit. 

_See?_ Softpaws said, sounding intolerably smug as she seated herself right beside her mistress’ nose. _I told you that you could do it, it only took a little nudge…_

_Softy?_

_Yes, kitten?_

_You are so lucky that I love you, or I’d be turning you into a new hat right about now._

When she finally felt able to stand on her legs again, Zaerini looked around. She was in a small library, with tall bookshelves lining the walls, comfortable leather armchairs for reading, one large table and a writing desk covered with papers next to the window. It seemed to be…invitation cards? Creamy white paper with golden edges, and they were covered with a neat and precise handwriting. _Invitations to a masquerade…I wouldn’t mind that myself._

“Who are you? What are you doing in my house?!” Rini hastily spun around, to see a frightened woman standing in the doorway, her mouth halfway open as if she was about to scream. The other woman was probably around her own age, with mousy brown hair, nervous and slightly bulging pale blue eyes, and an odd way of sucking in breath in a timid gasp at the end of every sentence she spoke. She was wearing an expensive-looking dress of gray satin, that didn’t really suit her, but that defined her as a noblewoman. 

“Ah, Lady Jysstev?” the bard hastily spoke, making her voice as cultured as she could. She didn’t want the woman to think her to be some sort of bandit after all. “I apologize for the intrusion, but I have a very urgent message for you, and your butler wouldn’t let me in.” 

“Message?” the woman asked, her hands nervously flitting towards her throat. “I…oh! Oh, I see!” She took the half-elf by the arm and directed her towards a chair, then sat down next to her. Hectic roses suddenly bloomed in her pale cheeks and she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You…you have come from him haven’t you? From the Hidden?”

_The Hidden! So, the old gnome was right about that much! But how to get to meet him?_ “Well…” Zaerini said. “Not exactly. I am seeking him, you see.” Lady Jysstev seemed harmless enough that she thought she dared trust her with part of the truth. “I have been told that he can help me.” 

“Help you?” the noblewoman said, biting her lips. “Oh…oh, I don’t know. He doesn’t like to be bothered…” 

“Please!” Rini made her voice as dramatic as she could, counting on the hope that a theatrical approach would help impress the woman with her sincerity. “A little girl’s life hangs in the balance. I am told the Hidden may cure her, surely you cannot deny me the opportunity to ask this favor of him. Imagine if it were your child, would you not do anything within your power to aid her?” 

Lady Jysstev hesitated for a moment, but then she nodded. “Yes…yes, I would. Of course, I will help you. But I don’t know where he is, you see.” 

_Damn._ “You have no idea? But you are in touch with him, are you not?” 

“Well, yes. But I do not know where he is right now…although I do know where he will be.” Suddenly looking firmer than before, Lady Jysstev rose, and took one of the signed invitations from the table. “Here,” she said. “Take this, it is an invitation for the masquerade I will be giving here shortly. The Hidden will be here too. If you, or one of your retainers will come, then I will ask him to speak with you. Just mention the phrase ‘yellow daisies’ to my butler, and he will arrange everything.” She handed the invitation over, and as she did there was a sudden knock on the door, and the same butler as before entered. His eyebrows leapt into his hair as he noticed the red-haired half-elf, and he gave her a very frosty look. 

“My lady,” he said, “the lady Aerie is here to see you. Would you like me to show her in?” 

“Oh yes, please!” Lady Jysstev exclaimed, clapping her hands. “How marvelous!” 

Zaerini, on the other hand, didn’t think it was ‘marvelous’ at all. “Aerie?” she said in a flat voice once the butler had retreated. “A…friend of yours?”

“Why yes, my dear! A very good friend!” 

“Right. That’s nice. Um…I’ve got to go. Please don’t mention me to her, or to anybody else. The Hidden wouldn’t like that, my business with him is very secret.” 

“Of course not, dear. But won’t you at least stay for tea with us? We’ll be having sugar frosted chocolate bunnies…” 

“No thanks,” Rini said, edging towards the window. “I…have a delicate tummy, thanks anyway.” Was that footsteps she could hear coming closer? “Bye bye!” She melted into her cat form again, and this time she took the leap without even thinking about it and was soon running along the branch as if her paws were on fire. Softpaws, who had been hiding beneath a chair during the conversation, hastily followed her.

_Kitten, are you all right?_

_So far…but not if that damned Avariel manages to surprise me._ Then an even nastier thought hit her. _Please, oh please let Edwina and the others have had the sense to hide from her…_ She increased her speed even more, and this time she was totally oblivious of how high above the ground she really was. 

_Meanwhile, at House Delryn…_

“You dishonor Moira's memory! You would allow the killer of your sister to go free? You are despicable! You are an insect!”

Anomen stared into his father’s red face, twisted and ugly with rage, and he tried to keep the black anger within himself in check. _How dare he? How dare he speak to me thus?_ He clenched his fists, and tried to force himself to breathe slowly, tried to force his voice into some semblance of calm. _This is my father. No matter what, I will behave as a son should towards his sire, even if his only response is to spit in my face. Not for his sake, but for mine, so that I may know that I have done my duty._ “I will not allow him to go free! He shall be taken before the courts if he is indeed the one who murdered my sister.”

Cor simply scoffed at this. “How can you doubt such a thing, boy? Saerk is the killer!”

_Reason. Try reason. Perhaps he may yet listen._ “Do you have proof, father?” Anomen said. 

His father looked at him as if he had gone mad, and so firm was his conviction that Anomen almost doubted his own sanity. “The proof lies in that fact that he has taken everything else from me! Killing Moira would complete my defeat.”

_The despicable wretch! He thinks of poor Moira as of his possession, slain simply in order to spite him!_ “Aye, now I see,” Anomen spoke, and by now he couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice. “Such has always been the case in this household. This is about you and only you. Your daughter's death means nothing beyond how it affects your pride and your comfort.”

Things deteriorated rapidly from then on. Eventually, Anomen was glaring at his father from just a few inches away, with the man’s liquor-saturated breath almost making him gag. He could see a violently pulsing vein at Cor’s temple, and he almost hoped that the other man would strike him, giving him a justifiable reason to retalitate. It would feel so good to have his fist impact with that fleshy mouth, scattering teeth everywhere. 

“Shut your mouth!” Cor snarled, spittle flying into Anomen’s face. “If you leave now you are forever banished from this place. You will be cast from this family and become a nameless dog, not fit to cower at my feet.”

_And I would rather be a nameless dog than bear the name of Delryn, if this is what it means to be one. That I swear._ The fury was upon him now, but this time Anomen knew exactly what he was saying, and he chose his words carefully. “I've been cowering at your feet for all my life. Goodbye, father. Perhaps I shall see you again before you drink yourself to death.”

He turned and walked away, and behind him he could hear his father screaming after him. “You are nothing, boy! Nothing!” 

Anomen stopped and gave the raging man a cool and measured look. “But I am, father. I am a man of honor, though I harbor little hope that you might understand the meaning of this. As I said, goodbye.” 

As he walked out the door, Anomen ignored the curses his father flung after him, and instead focused on the dark, rundown rooms he was crossing. _There truly is nothing more for me here. Moira was my last link to this place, but with her gone I shall not grieve to leave it. This is no home, this is a rotting nest to a man who would rather wallow in his own bitterness than see true justice done for his daughter._ The fresh outdoors air was a welcome relief after the cloying atmosphere in his father’s house, and the clear sunlight was a wonderful sight. _He cast me out. I can scarce believe it…I am free. For the first time since I can remember I am free of him. Whatever claim he ever had upon my loyalty…is gone._

Yes, his heart was still filled with grief over his sister. But even that was just a little bit easier to bear now. _At least I have not dishonored her memory. And I will see justice done, in my own way, if not in father’s._

He should go see the magistrate as soon as possible, he decided. Though his father would not believe it, Anomen had always found Bylanna Ianulin to be a good and honorable woman and learning what she thought of his sister’s death should be a good start. _I must also learn exactly how Moira was slain, and how she was found. Father will not let me back inside the house, but I will find a way. Somehow, I will find a way._

Deep in his thoughts as he was, Anomen wasn’t paying much attention to where he was going. So preoccupied was he that as he turned a corner, he walked straight into somebody, almost bowling them over. He automatically reached a hand out, steadying the other person, and then froze. There was the vibrant face he had been trying hard not to think about over the past days, golden eyes wide with disbelief, her cheeks slightly flushed as if she was in a hurry. 

“My lady…” Anomen croaked, and as he did so he knew that his feelings hadn’t died, painful as it was to have to admit it. 

“Anomen!” Zaerini said, and various emotions rapidly flickered across her face, surprise, embarrassment and relief succeeding each other. “Anomen, I’m so glad we found you, I was really worried about you.” Minsc, Edwina and Jan were standing next to her, and Anomen frowned as he noticed Jaheira’s absence. _Where might she be?_

“Hmpf,” Edwina said, scowling a little from her position directly next to the bard. “Yes, yes, he is alive and well, I hope you are satisfied. Can we go now? (With any luck we can lose him in the crowd, though I’d rather lose him down an open manhole.)”

“No, we can’t,” the half-elf said in an exasperated voice. “Anomen and I need to talk.” 

“But…”

“I told you about this before, remember? Anomen and I need to talk in private.” She suddenly flushed a little as she met Anomen’s eyes. “Assuming you want to talk to me, of course.” 

“Of course friend Anomen wants to talk to Little Rini!” Minsc cut in before Anomen had a chance to reply. “When friends have had a fight, they must talk so they can be friends again.” He scratched his bald head a little, sounding confused. “Minsc was about to suggest that they kiss and make up, but Boo says that wouldn’t be a good idea.” The look on Edwina’s face suggested to Anomen that no, it would in fact be an extremely bad idea, at least as far as the wizard was concerned. 

“Hey there Ano!” Jan said, sounding strangely more subdued than usual. “How’s it going? Heard any new stories lately?”

“None,” Anomen responded, “fit for telling in this place.” He bowed briefly to Zaerini, hoping that he could manage to keep the pain from surfacing into his voice. “My lady, of course I will be happy to speak with you, if such is your desire.” _No, no, no. Desire is a bad word here, don’t think about her in connection with desire, because that will lead you to think about seeing her naked and…dear Helm, please don’t let me shame myself by blushing in front of her like some callow schoolboy._

“Great!” the half-elf said, smiling with relief. Then she looked nervously behind herself, in the direction of one of the neighboring mansions. “We’d better go right now…this isn’t a good place to be at the moment.”

“What? My lady, are you in some kind of danger?”

“Sort of…I’ll tell you as soon as we’re someplace safe, I promise.” She grabbed him by the arm, pulling, and Anomen allowed himself to be dragged along, although of course he could easily have stood his ground. 

“Of course, my lady,” he simply said. “Lead on, and I shall follow.” 

The half-elf led them to Waukeen’s Promenade, and the Mithrest Inn, a tidy and comfortable place that Anomen heartily approved of. If there was to be a painful and potentially embarrassing conversation, he preferred to have it in a clean and pleasant environment. Once there, Zaerini requested a secluded table in a private dining room for the two of them, and then asked the others to wait downstairs. Anomen tried his best not to look too closely, but he couldn’t avoid noticing that Edwina was whispering something to the bard, not looking very pleased. This might have given him satisfaction some days ago, but no longer. Not when he could still so clearly remember the sight that had met him in the Trademeet Inn. He didn’t feel better when he saw the redhead hurriedly squeeze the wizard’s hand and give her a light kiss on the cheek. Anomen didn’t think that she had meant for him to notice, or she probably would have been less restrained with her affections. _How could I have been so blind? It’s in every look she gives that cursed wizard, how could I have failed to notice?_ But he did know why. _I did not want to see it. I deliberately shut my eyes to the truth, and chose blindness over true sight, failing the very dictates of my faith. How my Lord must despise me, choosing to live in a lie rather than to deal with the truth._

But he had a duty, and he had to face it and not turn tail and run. So, when Zaerini turned around and gave him a questioning look, he nodded and followed her upstairs, despite his reluctance. They did not speak on the way up, not until they had found the private dining room and seated themselves at the table. It was a cozy little room, with soft white curtains shading them from the hot afternoon sun, and with paintings of pleasantly anonymous flowers on the walls. Rhodelias, Anomen noticed, wincing at the thought of the gift he had never gotten to give. There was a faint smell of soap in the air, and the floorboards had been polished until the fairly glowed. Automatically, Anomen looked down. Yes, his armor gleamed, as it should. He had half expected that being exposed to his father’s bile would tarnish it. No matter what he had to face, doing so always felt a little better in a properly polished armor. He couldn’t help but notice that Zaerini also looked very uncomfortable. _Of course she does. I barged in on her like…like some crude oaf, bent on ravishing her, and then I turned tail and ran rather than facing my duty towards her. And she looked so…no, no, no! Don’t think about that, don’t think about that…calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean…_ There was nothing for it. He saw the half-elf about to speak, but he had to do the proper thing before she could offer any recriminations. 

“Anomen, I’m so sorry!” 

“My lady, I wish to offer my sincerest apologies for my reprehensible behavior and…” 

Anomen felt his brain grind to a screeching halt as it tried to process what he had just heard. Zaerini was staring back at him, a deeply puzzled expression on her face. _What did she just say?_

“Anomen, what are you talking about?” 

“My lady, I’m sure I must have misheard you…” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold it right there!” The bard had raised her hands into the air and was shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe her pointy ears. “Are you trying to apologize to me?” 

“Certainly, my lady.” 

“But…what for?”

At this point Anomen felt his carefully prepared words slipping away from him, dissolving into scattered confusion. _Could it be possible that she does not resent me for my unchivalrous and cowardly behavior? No…how could that be?_ “But…my lady…I did walk in on you and your…companion.” He swallowed heavily, trying to ignore the vision that seemed to have burned itself into his retinas. “Such indiscretion is unworthy of a true knight, surely. And then…I turned my back on you.” This was the worst part, and the core of his shame, but it had to be said. “I swore to protect you, and to aid you in your noble quest to save your poor friend Imoen, and I selfishly ran away when I…when things did not turn out as I had hoped. Such behavior is against the most important tenets of Helm. ‘Never betray trust’, so we swear. To be vigilant, and carry out our duties under any circumstances, no matter the cost to ourselves. And I failed in that. I failed you, and I failed my god.” 

She was looking angry by now, her delicate red eyebrows knitted furiously together, and her eyes were glowing faintly, as if they had caught the light of the setting sun within themselves. _Yes, now she understands, and she will denounce me as is her right and duty. As I deserve._ And then slender fingers were gripping him firmly by his cheeks, and she was glaring directly into his eyes as if she were trying to pulverize him with a single look. 

“You great big idiot!” Zaerini sputtered, punctuating every word with a shake of the stunned Helmite’s face. “How can you…how can you possibly blame yourself like this? Unless you’ve forgotten, you’re only human.” 

“But my lady…” 

“Oh, shut up!” Another little shake. “This isn’t your fault, I tell you. It’s me who should apologize. If I’d realized sooner…” She blushed faintly. “I mean, I didn’t understand how you felt about things, or I’d have said something…I mean, I like you, you’re good-looking and a very sweet guy and everything, but it’s just that…” 

“The wizard?” Anomen interjected, his heart heavy. 

She nodded gratefully. “Yes…I love him…I mean her…I mean, really, _really_ love. I’m sorry you had to find out the way you did, I never meant for that to happen.” Then she bit her lip. “And of course I don’t blame you for leaving. You were upset, that’s only natural. And for what it’s worth…I’m very sorry about everything.”

“Nay, my lady,” Anomen said, smiling faintly. “Be not sad, a smile suits your face far better. We…cannot help the workings of the heart; there is nothing to forgive. Only…only pray tell me…if things had been different…do you think that perhaps I would have stood a chance?”

“Yes Anomen,” Zaerini quietly said. “I think you would have. And…I still care for you, as a friend. I would be happy to have you travel with us once more, if you want to. But don’t you think that you have to do it for my sake, not if it hurts your feelings.” 

“My lady…the only hurt you could cause me would be by banishing me from your sight. I shall be honored and delighted to lend my arm to your cause once more.” 

“Oh…oh!” She was smiling again, that dazzling smile that had first attracted his attention. Strangely, it didn’t hurt as much as before to see it. “If you’re sure…then that’s great, Ano! Really great! Let’s go down and tell the others at once!” 

“Yes, my lady,” Anomen gravely responded. “I have one small boon to ask of you first though.” 

“What’s that?”

“Might you let go of my face before my beard is torn clear off?”


	80. Galvarey

**Cards Reshuffled 80 – Galvarey**

_Of all the dangerous monsters the adventurer comes across in the Realms, none are more so than the ones that walk on two legs, wear clothes, and are firmly convinced of their own righteousness. If you’re at the mercy of an openly evil homicidal maniac you may at least be able to bargain for your life, but one who still believes himself to be brimming with virtue won’t even listen to what you have to say. Why should he? The voices in his head tell him everything he needs to know._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“…and then,” Zaerini went on in a low voice, “I had to get out of there really fast so that Aerie wouldn’t notice me.” She shivered. “I have no idea what she’d be up to with the Jysstevs, but it’s bad news all right. Good thing Jan had some invisibility potions left and that Edwina spotted her from a distance, so she never saw the others.” She made a grimace. “She’s sure to be at that masquerade ball too. I’d better make sure she doesn’t recognize me, or things could get very bad.” She had filled Anomen in on what had happened in his absence, including a summarized version of Jan’s predicament as well as of Jaheira’s absence, and she had just reached the part about the meeting with Lady Jysstev, and the unpleasant surprise that Aerie was aligned with the noblewoman somehow. She didn’t even like to think about the Avariel, now less than ever. Edwina had told her the full and uncensored story about her first encounter with the elf by now, and it was enough to give her nightmares. “But enough about that for now,” she said. “What have you been doing, Ano? Jaheira mentioned something about you visiting your sister?”

And then she was horrified to see a dreadful look of pain cross Anomen’s face, and his eyes turn suspiciously shiny. _Oh no…now what did I say wrong?_ A terrible thought occurred to her. “Anomen? Did something happen to her?” 

The cleric could just barely manage a nod, and then he buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking violently. It was several minutes before anybody could get anything coherent out of him, and the tale slowly emerged, fragmented and distorted by occasional sobs, was a gruesome one indeed. The half-elf’s heart filled with compassion, and she wanted nothing more than to give the grieving man a firm hug, but she didn’t quite dare, not with what had just passed between them. She settled for taking his hand instead and holding it tightly. “Ano…I’m so sorry…I remember how it was when Gorion was murdered, and…well…I just wanted you to know that I’ll do anything I can to help you.” _I can’t believe what an utter bastard that father of his seems to be. Sure, he’s spoken of him before…but I didn’t realize it was quite this bad._

“Boo says that crying is a good thing,” Minsc said, patting Anomen on the shoulder. “When Dynaheir was killed, Minsc cried a lot, and Boo says that if it hadn’t been for that, Minsc would probably have gone funny in the head. Boo’s keen hamster nose will help track this killer down, you’ll see, and then Minsc will kick him so hard in the backside that his insides become his outsides.” 

Edwina nodded. “Vengeance tends to be very satisfying,” she said. “Things such as this are fairly common in Thay…and we know how to deal with them. Simply find the culprit, and then either kill him yourself, or arrange for some discreet person to help remove him from the equation.” Rini was relieved to note that for once the wizard didn’t seem at all hostile upon addressing Anomen, more curious, as if pondering something interesting. “Is that perhaps what you intend, if you are reluctant to risk your public position?”

“What?” Anomen asked. “Hire an assassin? No!” 

“Why not? As long as nobody knows, you will be quite safe.”

“Helm would know,” the cleric said in a definite voice. “And I would know. No, I will take this to the magistrate. If she is unable to help, then I will track this killer down myself, and make certain that he is brought to justice, and tried before a proper court of law.”

The wizard shook her head. “It’s your choice and your vengeance,” she said, “but I still think you are complicating things for no good reason.”

“Knights have it tricky, Red,” Jan said, “which is one of the reasons why I wouldn’t want to be one.” He gave Anomen a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry about your sister,” he said. “And your father too…though you probably wouldn’t want to be part of a family like that anyway.” He grinned, clapping the priest on the back. “Tell you what, you can be an honorary Jansen if you like! Just try to look a little shorter, and you’ll need to practice your storytelling a bit. I’ll teach you some of the simpler ones…” 

“Ah…thank you,” Anomen said, sounding a little stunned. “I fear that is not for me…but thank you anyway.” 

Zaerini had been trying to organize things in her head while this conversation went on, and now she was more or less satisfied. “Right,” she said. “We have a lot of things on our plate, but I think the most urgent is to help little Jaella. We don’t know how long she can last, after all. Now, the masquerade ball is in two days, according to the invitation, so there won’t be much time to prepare. We’ll need to decide who goes and we need to settle on disguises. Aerie must not recognize us, no matter what.” She cleared her throat. “Still, we should also have some time to start looking into Moira’s murder. It might be a good idea to split up to save time…but I want to wait for Jaheira first. She said she wouldn’t be long.”

And Jaheira wasn’t. The adventurers were having an early dinner in the very same private room that Zaerini and Anomen had used earlier, when she returned, looking tired and a little tense, but completely unharmed, and she smiled as she saw her companions. “There you all are!” she said. “And Anomen too…I am very glad to see you among us once again.” 

The cleric gave her a formal bow, smiling in return. “Thank you, Lady Jaheira,” he said. “You were right…I needed some time to think about things, but now I see clearer and am pleased to be back.” 

Whatever Jaheira had meant to respond went unsaid, as Zaerini threw herself into her arms right then, hugging her fiercely. She hadn’t realized until now just how worried she had really been about the druid. “You’re all right!” she said. “I’m so glad…those Harpers weren’t mad at you then, for the…little problem earlier?”

Jaheira shook her head, fondly straightening out some errant strands of red hair as she embraced the younger woman in turn. “Hush child, I am quite well as you can see. I do not believe the Harpers are aware of that…incident…at least no mention was made of it.” She suddenly looked serious. “However, they wish for me to bring you to see the Herald, as soon as possible, and preferably tonight.”

“The Herald? Tonight?” Zaerini gulped. She didn’t much like the sound of that. _Not when my cat ate a Harper Agent._

_Hst_ , Softpaws said from her seat in the middle of the table. _She was a scrawny one anyway. I’m sure they don’t miss her all that much._

_I really don’t think they reason that way, Softy._ “Are you sure this is necessary, Jaheira?” she asked. 

The druid nodded. “I really think it is the best option,” she said. “I know that you are no threat to the Balance, but they need to be convinced of that. With my word to support you that should not be difficult. You are no Sarevok after all, not some bloodthirsty killer. Do not worry, I know the Herald from before, and he is a fair and decent man.” 

“’Fair and decent’ men can be remarkably bloodthirsty sometimes,” Edwina said. Zaerini was a little startled to find the wizard’s arm wrapping itself firmly around her waist, but she didn’t mind the protective gesture at all. Actually, it felt very nice. “I am completely against this,” Edwina continued, her voice getting a little more accented as it usually did when she was passionate about something. “Those meddling Harpers…they are not to be trusted; I tell you. They are a completely ruthless secret organization with its own agenda, answerable to nobody but themselves, and you want her to throw herself at their mercy. No, I say! I will not stand for it!”

“That is simply not true,” Jaheira objected, sounding rather offended. “You are not a Harper, and you have no idea about we stand for. The Harpers would not…” 

“Tell that to Xzar. Let them decide that she is evil, and they will dispatch another assassin in a heartbeat.”

“If I may intervene…” Anomen said, coughing slightly. “I am not myself inclined to trust the Harpers blindly, and I think caution is of necessity in dealing with them. No offence meant to you of course, Lady Jaheira. Still, I fear that avoiding them entirely would also be a mistake. That could be the very thing that makes them decide that the Lady Zaerini is truly a threat, and then they could well become dangerous. I suggest a middle ground alternative. We go, but we go together, and we prepare ourselves well in advance, just in case this Herald should prove less than welcoming. Does this sound fair?”

There was a brief pause. 

“Yes,” Jaheira said. “You have found a balanced alternative, I believe. I commend you, Anomen. I still feel it is unnecessary to harbor any fears, but this can cause no harm.” 

“Very well,” Edwina grudgingly admitted to Anomen. “You have a point, I suppose.” She gave Jaheira a terse look. “I should point out that anybody who dares to try to harm her will soon be serving the Balance as a small pile of smoking ashes. (And I would be happy to scatter them all over a garbage heap.)” 

“Aw, True Love!” Jan approved. “Never would have thought I’d see you this mellow, Red. Granted, it’s mellow in a sense of imminent violent death, but still very sweet.” 

“Hold your tongue, fool,” Edwina protested, but there was a definite blush in her cheeks. “I am a Red Wizard. Fearsome, intimidating, breathtakingly and stunningly attractive, and more intelligent than any of you hopeless simians could hope to become even if you all managed to meld your brains together. Not ‘sweet’.” Then she almost choked as Minsc enveloped both her and Zaerini in a massive hug. 

“Minsc is glad that the Evil Girl Wizard will help to protect Minsc’s Witch!” he said. “Perhaps there is hope that she may become a Hero of Goodness after all, and join Minsc and Boo in the righteous kicking of evil butt? Being cuddly with little Rini should help, Minsc thinks. It’s hard to be really Evil when you’d rather cuddle.” 

Edwina turned even redder at this, but she couldn’t suppress a smile when Rini managed to wriggle an arm free, put it about her neck and pull her face towards her for a kiss. “Well, I think you are sweet too,” the half-elf whispered. “And very cuddly too.” And there were eager lips meeting hers, and soft skin rubbing against her, and she could feel that giddy, drunken feeling welling up inside of her as it always did in the close presence of her lover. It was with great reluctance that she forced herself to take a breath. “I guess that settles it,” she said. “We’ll go to the Harper Hold tonight, once Jaheira’s had a chance to eat and rest a little. No use in waiting, I think, I’d rather get this over with once and for all.” 

“Well, at least that’s something,” Edwina whispered. “The sooner we go there, the sooner we will get back…and then we will have to find something to occupy us with over the rest of the evening, won’t we? Perhaps some culture would be in order. Reading, art…that sort of thing. ( A little light reading from the Book of Kaza might be just the thing. And then perhaps some chocolate flavored body paint…)”

A momentary vision of Edwina covered in chocolate made Zaerini take a deep breath. _Don’t drool. Just don’t drool. Not where the others can see._

_About what, kitten?_ Softpaws innocently asked. _The wizard, or the chocolate?_

_Both. Definitely both. Never mind how sour those Harpers might be…if that’s what awaits me for dessert, then I can’t wait to meet with them._

-*-

“Now, pay attention to me, all of you!” Jaheira admonished the rest of the party. They were standing in the street a small distance away from the large orange building that made up the Athkatlan Harper Hold. Twilight was slowly approaching, turning the sky a deep, almost purple kind of blue, but the evening air was still warm and soothing. “I want you all to be on your best behavior, and to cause no trouble.” 

“Us?” Zaerini said, spreading her arms wide. “Jaheira, you wound me. You know I’m not one to cause trouble…I’ll be perfectly nice and polite.” She grinned. “Well, as long as they are, at least.” 

The druid pursed her lips together into a flat line, but she didn’t comment. Instead she took out a handkerchief and held it out towards the younger woman. “You have a smudge on your nose. Spit.” 

“Jaheira, I am not a baby!” 

“No, you are a somebody with a smudge on her nose, and I want you to look your best when we meet the Herald. Now spit.” 

The bard rolled her eyes, but she gave in. After all, Jaheira was clearly tense and upset about meeting the Herald, and it would probably be a good idea to try to set her at ease. Even if that did mean facing the indignity of having her face wiped. 

_Well, cats should wash regularly_ , Softpaws remarked from her place in her Mistress’ arms. _I agree completely._

_I prefer to wash in water, thank you._

“Minsc,” Jaheira said, “no going berserk and killing people in a rage in there. Just stay calm, can you do that?”

Minsc nodded. “Boo will help,” he said. “Boo is always very calm when killing, he will help Minsc do the same.” 

Jaheira didn’t look exactly calmed by this, but wisely chose not to press the issue further. “Jan…no goading people into a rage.”

The gnome’s eyes looked very wide and innocent, and he clasped a hand across his chest. “Really now, Jae, would I do such a thing? I am the very soul of courtesy and friendliness, you know that, always ready to keep the conversation going so there won’t be any awkward silences.” 

“As long as that does not involve telling that disgusting story about the Harper and the boat without a rudder.” 

There was a lot of quiet snickering, most of it coming from Edwina’s direction. 

“And you,” Jaheira told the wizard, “will not set fire to anything or anybody, including the Herald, is that clear?”

“I resent the implication that I am some sort of rabid pyromaniac,” Edwina said, giving the druid a haughty look. “I just so happen to be an extremely multi-talented person, and that includes my dealing with any offensive Harpers we might come across. (Acid arrows should work nicely…and Skull Traps…and then there is that other nice new spell I picked up…)” Insufferable chattered animatedly on top of her shoulder, and flaunted his bottom in the direction of the Harper Hold.

Jaheira sighed. “Let us go then. No sense in wasting time.” 

“Hey!” Rini exclaimed. “How come you aren’t telling Anomen off along with the rest of us?”

“Because Anomen is…how shall I put this…less…less…”

“Fun?” Jan suggested, ignoring the cleric’s glower. 

“No! Less…spontaneous, I meant to say. And in this case, that is a good thing.”

“Oh, let’s just get this over with,” Rini said, heading off in the direction of the Harper Hold with her bow loosely flung over her shoulder. “I’m getting bored, and I want to be done with this.” _And then me and ‘Dwina can spend some quality time together…yummm…_ ”Hey!” she yelled, throwing some grit on one of the upper windows. “Anybody home? Can the Herald come out and play?”

Jaheira raked her palm slowly across her face. “As I was saying…” she intoned in a monotonous voice. 

Once the adventurers had been let inside, Zaerini found the interior of the Harper Hold to be much as she remembered it. There was the same vast expanse of glittering marble floor, with an enormous golden harp and crescent moon. There were the same potted plants, the same gaudy furniture. And there, yes, there was the gigantic statue of Elminster, just as she remembered it. And yet…something was different. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was, but something was definitely missing, and whatever it was it made her very uneasy. She didn’t feel at all calmer as a tall and haughty-looking middle-aged man entered the main hall from a side entrance, followed by four other harpers, three men and one woman. He seemed to have a permanent sneer stuck on his face, and the way he looked at her reminded her of somebody looking at an insect. Cold, emotionless, and considering, as if he was thinking about what to do with her and none of the options were pleasant. _Irenicus!_ She shivered at the thought, feeling an icy prickle along her back. _He reminds me of Irenicus._ Beside her, she noticed Jaheira stiffen visibly. 

“Jaheira, my dear, it is good to see you!” the man said, with a bright smile that never reached his eyes. 

_Now he’s in for it. Nobody calls Jaheira ‘my dear’ and gets away with it, not in that tone of voice._

And the druid’s eyes had indeed turned as hard and cold as two chips of green eyes, her posture even prouder than normal. “Why are you here, Galvarey?” she asked in a clipped voice. “Your welcome is forced, and you know it is the Herald we have come to see. We have no time to waste on you.” 

The smarmy smile never left Galvarey’s face, instead it turned a little broader and even more smug than before. “Ah,” he said. “A minor detail, I fear it must have slipped my mind as we spoke before. This area lacks an officially sanctioned Herald at the moment. The old one sadly passed away a few months back. Something he ate, I believe. At any rate, I will soon be fully established as a Herald, and have long since assumed that authority here. The sanctification is a mere formality, and the High Heralds will undoubtedly approve of my claim.” 

“Ah,” Edwina murmured, a small smirk on her face. “I see that the Harpers have adopted the advancement tactics of the Red Wizards. How remarkable. (He had better limit his schemes to other Harpers though, or I will be pleased to demonstrate some Thayvian political methods for free.)” 

Zaerini had been listening to the conversation, getting more and more uneasy, and not only from the words. There was still something missing…something that ought to have been here…and she was certain that Galvarey would be rather more unpleasant about his questioning than Jaheira had thought. _Good thing we came prepared._ “All right,” she told the Harper, looking him straight in the eyes. “Jaheira said you wanted to see me, and here I am. I suppose you actually wanted something, and didn’t just plan to stand about chatting about how great you are?” 

Galvarey crossed his arms across his chest and gave her a superior look. “Oh yes,” he said. “Yes, I did indeed ask you here. I assume you know why?”

_Well gee, I don’t know. Could it be…let’s see…something to do with me being the daughter of the currently deceased God of Murder?_ “Sure I do!” she brightly told Galvarey. “You’ve heard of my reputation as a performer, right? And now you want me to give you a special performance, since you’re a friend of Jaheira. Well, I guess I can do that. How would you like to hear something cheerful…like ‘The Fool Who Would Rule’?” 

Galvarey’s smile cracked just a little bit at the edges, and she could hear Jan laughing quietly behind her. “Child…” Jaheira whispered. “Please, remember what I said! Do not make this more difficult than it has to be!” 

_Too late, Jae. This guy wants to judge me, does he? Well, let him just try._

“Disrespectful of her betters,” Galvarey said, gesturing briefly at one of his followers who immediately copied the words down on a piece of parchment. “Just as one might expect. No, Zaerini of Candlekeep, you are here because of what you are, a Child of Bhaal. Now to my next question. What can you remember of your earliest memories?” 

The half-elf’s eyes narrowed. Unbidden, hazy images flickered through her mind. A large warm hand, holding her smaller one. Gorion, gathering her into a tender hug when she was tired…tired from walking. An inn somewhere, she didn’t know where. A city…up in the treetops? Always Gorion was there, steady as a rock, constant as the sun. _My true father._ But that was none of the business of this puffed-up man, who looked at her as if she was a thing, and a disgusting thing at that. “Well, I don’t know,” she said in her most innocent voice. “I have a terrible memory, you see. But if I think really hard about it, I can remember coming in through that door behind me. Apart from that, it’s all a blur I’m afraid.” 

Galvarey clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Confrontational,” he told his scribe who dutifully jotted it down. “How very expected.” He sneered at Rini again. “Next question. As a Child of Bhaal, have you ever had…violent thoughts?” 

_What kind of a stupid question is that anyway? I mean, who hasn’t?_ “Who, me?” she asked, and this time she used her skill of mimicry to twist her voice into an Aerie impersonation. “V-violence? Oh, what a horrid thing to suggest, you bad, bad person!” 

“Riiiight,” Galvarey said, and this time around he sounded rather frustrated. “Unbalanced, unstable, almost certainly dangerous. Moving on then. What is your favorite color?”

“What has that got to do with anything?” Jaheira exploded, glaring at the other Harper as if she meant to tear his throat out. 

“Tut tut,” Galvarey said, the sneer once again firmly in place. “Jaheira, surely you don’t want to have me question your loyalty to our cause? My questions follow a method of my own, and I thank you not to interfere. Now, Zaerini of Candlekeep…your favorite color?”

_Doesn’t really matter what you say, kitten_ , Softpaws said. _He wants a fight, and he means to have it. Just jump him before he’s ready and tear his ears to pieces._

_You know, that’s sounding more tempting by the minute. But what the hey, I might as well answer him._ “Let’s see…” Rini said, letting her eyes drift towards the ceiling as if she was deep in thought. “Favorite color…that’s tricky. There are so many pretty ones, I really can’t choose. Hmmm…red…blue…yellow…green…black…white…purple…orange…vanilla…spruce…terracotta…eggshell blue…mint…gray…azure…bile green…gold…indigo…scarlet…no, this is far too difficult. So, I guess I’ll just say ‘plaid’ and be done with it.”

“AHA!” Galvarey exclaimed. “Plaid! The color of Evil! Plaid as the…as the…” His voice slowly faltered and died out. “Plaid as the…plaid? What do you mean, plaid? You aren’t allowed to pick that color, that’s against the rules!” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Zaerini said, shrugging. “I didn’t know that there were rules about which colors you were allowed to like. Anyway, what are you going to do about it?”

“Indeed, Galvarey,” Jaheira cut in, “what is it you intend? This is not as we had discussed...”

“I’ll tell you what I will do about it,” Galvarey said, and by now his eyes weren’t icy anymore, they were bloodshot and bulging with anger. “You are far too dangerous to roam free, just as I suspected from the beginning. You will be dealt with so that you can cause no further harm.” 

“What are you saying, Galvarey?” Jaheira asked, her voice horrified. “You cannot mean this, you know she is not a danger to the Balance. You have no right to act like this, as Harpers we…”

“As Harpers,” Galvarey sniped back, “we have greater duties than those to a single individual. How dare you put this…thing…this monster…ahead of the greater good that can be achieved by confining her safely? She is akin to a Beholder, or a Mindflayer. An Imprisonment spell will deal with her nicely, confining her eternally far below the ground, where she can do no harm.” 

_Confine me…eternally…below the ground…he’s mad! He has to be! Because I don’t want to think about somebody doing that to somebody else while actually being sane! And I’m not a monster. I’m not._

“You will be the only one confined here, Harper,” Edwina spat. “In a number of small jars, with the smallest one reserved for your _tshvarin._ If you are very lucky, I may kill you first.” 

“Aye!” Anomen agreed, and his voice was thick with anger. “I see no justice here, only a greedy man lusting for power. But know this – righteousness shall prevail!” 

“The Evil Girl Wizard and the priest are both right!” Minsc said, sliding Lilarcor free of its sheath. The sword made excited little noises all the while. “Nobody will put little Rini in a box, and if they try Minsc and Boo will put them in a box first!” On his shoulder, Boo hissed loudly. 

“Tsk tsk,” Jan said, shaking his head. “Such people…and here I was planning to tell them a humorous story too…but on the other hand, maybe they could be a new humorous story.”

Galvarey motioned his companions forward, looking very sure of himself as he did so. “You are fools to oppose me,” he said. “We are six Harpers here and…”

“NO!” Jaheira’s voice cut through the air like a knife. “No,” she snarled, never taking her eyes off Galvarey. “Not six. Only five Galvarey, you and your lackeys. You brought us here by lying to me, and I will have no further part in this. I see only one monster here, and that is you. I will oppose you in this, even should it cost me my life.” 

At last, Galvarey’s smile entirely left his face. “As you wish then, my dear Jaheira. As you wish.” And as he said that, Rini finally noticed what it was that was missing. The faint but sweet harp music that had been hanging in the air on their previous visit was no longer present.


	81. Imprisoned

**Cards Reshuffled 81 – Imprisoned**

_People often fear death, and with good reason. But death is really a piece of cake compared to some of the things that can happen to you before you die – and afterwards._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Edwina made a sweeping gesture with her hand, and an incandescent fireball erupted from her palm. It hissed through the air, leaving a flickering afterimage behind in the air, and struck two of the approaching Harpers. The resulting panicked screams and the smell of scorching flesh were extremely satisfying, but she didn’t have much time to gloat. The pair was hurt, but they had both managed to roll and avoid some of the damage, and they were already getting to their feet. And then there were the others…

_Boss! BEHIND YOU! DOWN!_ Insufferable’s voice was a shrill shriek in her mind, and she automatically dropped to the ground in a crouch. Something whistled through the air above her head, almost parting her hair, and then struck the Elminster statue with a resounding clang. _Throwing dagger. But where is…_

Edwina scrambled to her feet, wildly looking about. She couldn’t see her assailant, and she had an uncomfortable idea about what that meant. _Where is he…he has to be here somewhere._ She knew all too well just how dangerous it could be when a rogue struck from some secret hiding place. There didn’t seem to be any place to hide here, but there were worse things. “Invisible foe over here!” she shouted. “Hurry up and flush him out, you fools!”

“Getting a bit misty-eyed, eh Red?” Jan yelled back, a cheerful grin on his face as he dodged the sword of another Harper, then quickly stuck his leg out to trip the man up. “He’s right over there…but I’ll help you out since you ask so nicely.” The gnome quickly muttered a spell of his own, and then threw something into the air. A cloud of sparkling dust, bright enough to resemble a cluster of tiny stars, scattered across the room. They settled on the Elminster statue’s shoulders like a heavy rain of dandruff, and then…yes, there it was. The outline of a small figure covered with glittering dust and suddenly clearly visible despite his clever hiding place between the enormous wizard’s feet. It was a halfling Edwina saw, and he was looking very surprised to see her staring straight back at him across the crossbow he was aiming at her. 

_Try to hide from me, would you?_ A second fireball flew at her command, and engulfed the halfling, hitting hard enough that the explosion even made the Elminster statue tremble. As for the halfling, he was a twisted and charred mass on the floor and didn’t seem likely to get up any time soon. Edwina smiled with satisfaction, pushing a strand of dark hair out of her eyes as she hastily looked about the battlefield. 

Zaerini was firing arrows as quickly as she could, using that new bow of hers. The arrows looked…odd. Insubstantial, almost transparent, but when they flew through the air they glowed with magical energy. One the Harper mages went down screaming, an arrow through his eye. But more were approaching, coming in through the side doors, and the bard was hard pressed. Minsc was at her side, screaming with rage as he struck at all who would attempt to harm his Witch, and the large man’s arms were already covered with blood up to the elbows. Even more of it had spattered his face like some grisly war paint. Edwina didn’t think he even noticed. For that matter, right now she would have been perfectly happy to smear blood all over her own face like a barbarian, if she thought it would help the outcome of the battle. She turned her head to see Galvarey approaching from Zaerini’s right and fought down a surge of red rage that threatened to overtake her. If she let it, she knew that she would attempt to strangle the man with her bare hands rather than use her magic against him like a sensible person, and that wouldn’t do at all. But it was a tempting thought…very tempting. _He will not harm my Hellkitten. And I will make him regret even thinking of trying it._ Another spell, and lightning arced from her widespread fingertips with their perfectly manicured nails. Galvarey and two of the Harpers standing close by him suddenly jerked and spasmed as the electricity coursed through them. 

_Great work, Boss!_ Insufferable was holding tightly on to her ear, his sharp little claws pinching it painfully in his excitement. _Hee hee, look at ‘em jump!_ The little monkey performed a rapid dance on her shoulder, making spirited grimaces at the fallen Harpers. 

_Of course they do, Suffy. They have, after all, just been subjected to my limitless magical powers, it is only fitting that they should be humbling themselves in a prostrate position._

_And that there should be smoke coming out of their ears?_

_Absolutely. Ha, I am invincible! Invincible!_

_Uh, Boss?_

_What?_

_I don’t think you should be saying that._

_What ever for?_

_It’s a jinxed phrase. Us familiars know these things. Whenever somebody claims to be invincible they always get rotten luck immediately afterwards._

“Nonsense!” Edwina chided the monkey. “Superstitious claptrap! And anyway, I am invincible! Deadly, dangerous and utterly invinci…” The sudden pain bloomed in her side like a rapidly unfolding red flower. She couldn’t quite suppress the moan of pain that wanted to emerge, and as she uncomprehendingly brought her hand to her ribs it came away wet. “No…” 

Blood was still dripping from the blade of the Harper who had crept up on her, a gangly man about her own age, with sandy shoulder-length hair and a triumphant grin on his face. As she sucked in breath, she couldn’t help but notice that he was wearing a dizzying amount of lilac cologne, and it intermingled with the smell of blood in a manner that would have been nauseating even if she hadn’t been the source of the blood in question. She was trying to keep on her feet, trying her very best, but her legs were trembling, and they gave in beneath her. A dull roar filled her ears as she sank to the floor, it’s cool and smooth marble surface oddly soothing against her blood slick palms. 

Then there was a dull thud, and the wizard suddenly found herself face to face with her assailant, as he came to rest side by side with her on the floor. Face to face was perhaps a bit of an exaggeration though. Face to fleshy, pulped mass was far more accurate. Then the pain lessened, and she felt a soft sensation washing over her, easing the hurt. It ended quickly enough, with a rough grip pulling her to her feet once more, quickly enough that it made her stagger. She just barely managed to bite back a yelp of pain. Her wound might be healed, but her shoulder felt as if it was in very real danger of dislocating. She blinked back some tears, barely aware of a shimmering magical orb from one of the enemy wizards swishing past her head and striking the Elminster statue, making the gilded pointy-hatted wizard rock and sway even more than before.

“On your feet, wizard!” Anomen snarled next to her ear. “I will not have you die on her and break her heart, happy as I would be to officiate at the burial.” 

Edwina was on the verge of retaliating with a biting comment, but what she saw as she turned around made her forget all about the cleric’s presence. Zaerini had pulled back a little, to be out of melee range, and had summoned up a host of mirror images that danced around her, each one firing flickering ghostly arrows in time with her. _Each one just as beautiful as she is, just as perfect._ The half-elf had a wild smile on her face, an almost hungry one, and her eyes glittered as more arrows found their targets. Minsc was a little to the side of her, fighting two assailants at the same time, and Jaheira was there with him, in bear form. The druid fought with deadly efficiency, the strong swipes of her paws crushing skulls and breaking bones as she lunged at her former Harper allies. What must she be thinking, Edwina wondered? 

_At least she has made a choice now…much as I did._ She flicked another glance at her lover, and a small smile played around her lips. _Some things are worth losing everything for._ The druid snarled, and charged Galvarey, narrowly avoiding his sword. 

“Fool!” Galvarey cried, his voice sharp with fear and anger. He parried another swipe from a massive paw. “You will ruin us all!”

With a wordless roar of rage, the bear tackled the Harper, and there was a sickening crunch of breaking bone. Then another. And another. Finally, eventually, the outline of the bear blurred, and Jaheira stood there in its stead, panting heavily, her face shining with sweat. “No Galvarey,” she whispered, not dignifying the dead body with even a glance. “The one who would bring ruin upon the Harpers is you.” 

Edwina sighed with relief. The Harpers all seemed to be gone, dead or wounded, and her companions were still more or less in one piece. Especially the one that mattered more than anything else. Zaerini had lowered her bow and was watching the dead Galvarey with a pensive look on her face. She licked her lips briefly, an unconscious gesture, and then raked her fingers through her tangled red hair. She seemed to be perfectly fine. _So why do I still feel as if something is wrong?_ The wizard frowned, looking about. There was something…something disturbing, but she couldn’t tell what it was. Then she noticed it. 

There was a low whisper in the air, a hushed noise that seemed to be coming from the floor. Zaerini apparently noticed it too, for she turned around, looking tense once more. And then it all happened very quickly. As the half-elf took a step backwards, a hand lashed out, grasping her by the ankle. It was one of the Harper wizards, one that Edwina had thought dead for certain as he lay on top of the sprawled body of one of his companions. Not so. He must have had a muffling charm on some kind in order to be able to cast the spell as quietly as he had, and now Edwina could feel the magic build up in the air. She didn’t know what the spell was, but the length of it indicated that it was a complex one. _Not good. Not good at all._ Zaerini kicked at the Harper, but misbalanced and almost fell, spitting out a startled curse. 

_No matter…a simple magic missile and his spell will fizzle. Simple and elegant._ The shimmering red orbs flew through the air almost before Edwina had even finished the thought – and then they were suddenly coming back at her, and she was struck in the chest and sent reeling. _Contingency spell…the accursed tadpole-faced little bastard must have had a contingency spell set to reflect magic!_ She could barely breathe from the pain, much less cast another spell, and the enemy wizard was still casting, his face ashen gray but his eyes fanatically determined. 

_No…please no!_

A rumbling sound, growing to a loud screech, and she looked up, her heart feeling as if it was about to jump straight into her mouth. Elminster’s statue was toppling, falling, its massive weight crashing towards the floor while it still retained that insanely smug smile on its bearded face. It fell, straight towards the spot where Zaerini was still trying to get loose from the Harper Wizard whose voice now rose into a triumphant crescendo. 

“Noooooo!” Edwina screamed, aware that she wasn’t the only one who was doing so, her throat raw with pain as she tried to run, to help, to do something. Anything. But it was too late. 

The statue fell, and the earth shook beneath its weight, the floor cracking and splintering beneath it. For a few seconds all was silent. Edwina stared with wide eyes at the fallen statue, uncomprehending. There was blood seeping out from somewhere underneath it. So much blood. A dark, almost black pool. So much of it. Too much. 

_No…no…it wasn’t supposed to be like this…not like this! She must be all right…she has to be all right!_

But even as she staggered numbly towards the statue, her world cracking around her and falling into little pieces, Edwina knew that it was hopeless. She didn’t need to see the corpse that had to be there. The blood, the sheer bulk of the statue was enough to quench any hopes she might have had. 

_She…is gone. I only just found her…and now…she is gone._

By the time her legs finally gave out on her and she sank to the floor, her cheeks were already wet with tears. They fell freely, mingling with the rapidly widening pool of blood, and she didn’t care at all. 

_What do I care if Anomen or the others see me…what does it matter now? Without her, nothing matters anymore. Nothing at all._

-*-

Darkness. Solid, impenetrable darkness. No hint of moon or stars were present, not the slightest trace of wind. There were no sounds at all, not even the sound of her breathing. No smells at all, nor the sensation of air entering her lungs. And she could feel absolutely nothing. She could have been floating in midair, or tucked into a coffin, or hanging from a gallows for all she knew. There was not the smallest hint to her whereabouts.

_Am I dead?_ Zaerini thought. She wasn’t certain exactly how you were supposed to feel when you were dead, but this bleak nothing certainly seemed to fit one of the more unpleasant versions of the Afterlife. _This could be the Abyss, for all I know._ The thought made her want to scream, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t move at all, in fact, not even feel her own body in any way. _It could be the Abyss. I’m a Bhaalspawn…my sire’s taint is in my blood, in my soul. Perhaps it finally pulled me down for good._

She couldn’t remember dying, but that didn’t have to mean anything. The last memory she had was of seeing that large statue about to fall on her, which wasn’t a good sign. Oh, and there had been that Harper Wizard, about to cast a spell on her. That also wasn’t a good sign. Either of the two might well have killed her. In fact, she didn’t see how she could possibly have survived them both, now that she thought about it. 

_Edwina…I will never see her again._ Nor her other friends, and that hurt immensely, but the thought of being torn from her loved one…it didn’t bear thinking about. _I love her…I love her so much. And she loves me too, and she needs me…I can’t leave her all alone! I just can’t!_ The thought of the wizard, alone and in mourning, was enough to make her heart feel as if it was being torn apart. She wanted to cry, wanted it more than anything in the world, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t draw breath, couldn’t sob. The cries of anguish stayed locked within her, building up until she would go insane with the need to let them out. There was no physical pain, but her mind was in agony and there was nothing she could do about it. 

Time passed; she didn’t know how much. She had no way of measuring it, not even her own pulse was audible. If she had one, that was. It could have been days, weeks, even years. The hurt didn’t stop, but eventually she was able to push it back into the deeper corners of her soul, until she was able to at least partially focus her mind again. _Not that I’m sure that’s such a good thing. It would be so much easier to just let go, wouldn’t it? To dive into the deep dark sea of insanity, never looking back. Xzar…I bet he could tell me how it feels when your mind is…bending, and when it breaks. I wonder what made it happen to him…but I probably wouldn’t want to know anyway. Perhaps I’ll be getting tattoos next…but you probably can’t get tattoos here, wherever here is. Edwina has tattoos…can’t imagine what possessed her to tattoo her scalp but I bet it was really cute…I guess her parents probably weren’t too pleased though. Edwina…what are you doing now? Are you all right? Alive? Do you…remember me?_ It could have been decades passing out there. _Edwina, I need you…_

Alone in the emptiness, with nothing but her own thoughts for company, her mind twisted and turned upon itself, snarling and biting like a frustrated and starving animal might turn even upon its master. She couldn’t even sense her familiar anymore, she had tried reaching out for Softpaws more than once, but the link might as well have been severed entirely. _If I’m dead…I wonder if I’ll be meeting up with Sarevok again? My brother…where are you now, I wonder?_ A memory drifted to the front of her mind. Standing in front of a tall figure in the most hideous armor she had ever seen, burning eyes the only part of his face visible within the spiked helmet. Eyes resembling her own but filled with insane rage. _If I go insane, do I have to wear spikes? Edwina wouldn’t like that…but she wouldn’t get to see it, would she? Not if I’m dead._ Hysterical laughter fought to escape her throat, fought and failed. _Sarevok…I’ll soon be as lost as you ever were._ She remembered reaching her hand out, holding a small and fragile object out to her sibling. Remembered his rejection of his final chance of turning back. _I tried…but it was too late for him. Too late for me now. Too late…_

_Sister?_

The word blazed in her mind, unbearably beautiful as it lit the crushing emptiness. She could feel again – not her surroundings, but an unmistakable presence within her soul. The presence of her dead brother. 

_Sarevok!_

A low, almost growling chuckle sounded within her head. _Yes little sister, it is I. Or a part of me at least, the part connected to you. The greater, conscious part of me is unaware of you – yet._

_Connected to me? What do you mean?_

_You know it. You have always known, within your heart. We are one, you and I. Two halves of the same whole, like flames born from the same fire._

_Bhaalspawn…but there are others, I know that much._

_Aye, but we share something special, more than the blood of our other siblings. Never mind. You will learn in time, when you are ready, as will I._

_But…_

_But for now, there is something you need to see. Sarevok will help keep you sane – but you must do the same for Sarevok. Now watch, little sister. Watch and learn._

The darkness parted, and Zaerini suddenly found herself able to see again. Then she wished that she wasn’t. 

-*-

Sarevok wanted to scream, to rage, to do anything other than watch helplessly. Yet that was all he could do, bound as he was by the magic of the Abyss. The woman before him was achingly familiar, from her long dark braid to her smooth skin, from her strong and tautly muscular body to the loving look in her slanted black eyes. Loving, yet sad. _Tamoko…no! I will not allow this to happen again._ Yet happen it would, as he knew perfectly well that it would, as it had happened countless times already. The scene had alternated with Winski’s death so many times that they were starting to run together in his mind, mingling together. People who had loved him. People he had loved in turn. People he had betrayed. People he had…slain. _NO! It was never my hand that slew Tamoko, it was her, my sister!_ But the enraged protest did not soothe him. Perhaps it had indeed been his sister who had killed Tamoko, but that wasn’t the entire truth. _It was me. It was I who sent her out there, who sent my Tamoko to her doom. She pleaded with me, but I…_

“Sarevok…my love.” Tamoko’s voice was calm and clear as it normally was, but there was the smallest hint of tension in her stance, in the wary look in her dark eyes. The love was still there, but… Fear? _Tamoko…when did you start to fear me? Don’t you know that I could never hurt you?_ A small voice laughed mockingly in his mind. _Ah, but you did. You did, more so than anybody else could have._ “Sarevok?” Tamoko asked again, just as she had done then, when he was still alive. “Will you listen to me?”

“I will listen,” his voice spoke, without him being able to choose the words. He could do nothing but sit silent, an involuntary passenger as his body, or the illusion of it, went through the motions, acting out the past. The voice sounded flat to his ears, but also angry. _Tamoko…beware._ “Speak as you will.” 

Tamoko took a step closer, looking up into his face. She was…she had _been_ tall for a Kara-Turan woman, but he was taller by far. Had been taller. “Sarevok, what is happening to you?” she asked, and the sorrow was evident in her eyes now. “What are you becoming?”

“You know full well what I am becoming. The Lord of Murder, as I am destined to be according to the Prophecies of Alaundo. An entity powerful beyond human imagination.”

“And what of Sarevok, the man? The one I love? What of my Sarevok? Will there still be room for him?” 

Anger grew, the beast within awakening as it had so often of late. “Why do you question me? Always you try to hold me back, to pull me back from the Throne that is mine by right! Would you have me be weak, a mere mortal, easy for you to control?”

Tamoko put her hands on his arms, holding him tightly, and her voice cut him sharply as he listened to words he had heard over and over again. “You will never be weak, my Sarevok. It is not in you to be so. And I cannot control you, nor would I want to. But…I fear for you.” Her eyes were wide now, her face pale. “Sarevok…what has become of Winski? Was he not with you?”

The beast snarled, hungry for blood. “He was a traitor. A cowardly, sniveling traitor, seeking to keep me from what is mine. He has paid for it.” Suspicion, dark and ugly like a poisonous flower. “Why do you care?”

“Why do I care? Sarevok, he was your oldest friend! He loved you, he was practically a father to you!” 

“I HAVE BUT ONE FATHER! AND HE IS WITH ME!” The voice of the beast lowered again, even more menacing than before, and he knew that the eyes were burning brightly as furnaces. “You are just like Winski, aren’t you? You would betray me…perhaps even ally with my dear little sister. Is that it?” Fear in her eyes now, clear and palpable despite her best efforts to hide it. His voice echoed loudly beneath the dark vaults of the old Temple of Bhaal, reflecting against the crouching gargoyles. “IS THAT IT?”

Tamoko was very white by now, but she still carried herself proudly, and her voice did not tremble. “I sought her out…but for your sake, not for mine or for hers. I would not see you destroyed, my love.” She raised her hand, trying to forestall his furious protest. “No, not by her…destroyed by him. By the voice that speaks to you. Sarevok, he is consuming you bit by bit! You must listen to me!” 

The beast roared, baying for her blood. He could almost see his hands wrapping themselves around her slender throat, squeezing. Or perhaps it would be the sword, sliding into her beautiful belly, drawing forth a rain of crimson blood. _Like with Winski. Tamoko, please run._ The beast tried to lunge, but was halted. “Go,” Sarevok said, his voice thick with anger. “Go, Tamoko. And know that if I ever lay eyes upon you again, I will slay you.” _FOOL! You great blind fool! Do not let her go, you will destroy her!_

Tamoko nodded briefly, then gave him a formal bow. For a second, he thought he saw tears in her eyes, but she hid them well. “I will go then,” she said. “But know you this, my love. I go to fight, to fight for you. In whatever way I can, in this world or the next. Remember that, my love. My Sarevok…” She turned around, and walked quickly away from him, her braid swaying. He wanted to call out to her, to plead with her to come back, but the mouth was no longer his to speak with. _Too late. Tamoko…will you ever forgive me?_

_She already did, brother._ The voice within his head made the tortured Sarevok startle, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. Before him, the scene of Tamoko’s departure began to play itself out once more, but for the first time he was distracted from it. 

_Little sister?_

_It’s me._ The voice of his sister was unmistakable, but its normal light and mischievous tones were tinged with weariness and sorrow. _Don’t ask me how I got here…I’m not even sure where ‘here’ is. I think I might be dead or something._

_No._ Sarevok concentrated on the bright essence of his sibling, closer than he had ever felt it before. _You are not dead, but not fully alive either. I do not understand this._

_That makes two of us._ She sighed, sounding even more tired than before. _I don’t care if you want to kill me…I’m just glad not to be alone anymore. It was so horrible to be alone, you have no idea._

Sarevok’s mind was a jumble of confused emotion, and he wasn’t able to make sense of them at all. He could almost see her now, a blurry outline close by him, almost close enough to touch. He wanted to strike out at her with the old familiar rage, strike at her for putting him in this place, for taking Tamoko. And yet…at the same time he also wanted to gather her into his arms and hold her closely, never to let go. In the end, he did neither. _But I do, little sister. I do know…_


	82. Hunt for Freedom

**Cards Reshuffled 82 – Hunt for Freedom**

_Freedom isn’t normally something you can buy or sell. However, under certain circumstances you can. Or you can rob, steal or pickpocket it, if such is your preference. Because precious as it is, the price you have to pay for freedom can be very high._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

"Edwina? Edwina, can you hear me?"

_No. I will not listen, I will not react. I will not understand. If I do not, then maybe it will not have happened._

"I…I am truly sorry. More sorry than I can express." 

Noises. Noises buzzing around her head, voices chattering meaningless gibberish. The words meant nothing to her. Nothing meant anything anymore. Not without her. 

"Go away," Edwina whispered in a flat empty voice. She was sitting on the floor, hunched up with her head and arms resting against her knees. Her long dark hair was falling forward, hiding her face like a protective curtain. The cloth of her robes was soft against her cheek, soft and wet. There was a salty taste on her lips. "Just…leave me alone. Please." Desperate enough to actually beg, desperate enough not to care that she was doing it. Close by, she could hear noises, Jaheira quietly saying something about trying to move the statue aside. _I won't look. I won't. I won't see her like that, won't remember her like that. If she is even there, still. Perhaps she just disappeared, like Sarevok._

A heavy sigh, and a hand rested awkwardly on her shoulder for a moment. "It is true that we have had our…differences…in the past," Anomen went on. "I still can't claim to like you much either. But I know now…that despite all else, you truly loved her, and she you. If there is anything I can do, in honour of her memory…" 

She shook her head, mutely. "No. Not now. I…I can't talk about this right now." 

The cleric's footsteps retreated away from her, and some time passed. She was vaguely aware of more noises. Talking. Somebody crying. Earlier, right after the statue fell, there had been screams. Minsc, most probably. She didn't look up, not even at the touch of a small hand patting her cheek. 

_Boss…what can I do?_ Insufferable's voice sounded unusually subdued. 

_Nothing, Suffy. Just…stay where you are._ She moved her hand a little, enough so that her fingers managed to touch the soft fur, stroking it mechanically. It helped, a little bit. _Where is Softpaws?_

_Over there_ , the monkey replied. _She didn't get hit, but she doesn't make any sense at all. She keeps saying…_

A second voice, a frustrated and hissing one, cut into Edwina's head, like a knife slicing through her brain. _That my Kitten isn't dead. That's what I keep saying. And none of these fool two-legs pay attention!_ The startled wizard suddenly felt the cat's small body nudging her leg. _You are her mate. She needs your help. So, you'd better listen to me._ The cat sounded desperately urgent, and she had to be wrong of course, but Edwina couldn't quite suppress that small ray of hope that tried to light her soul. _If she had died_ , Softpaws went on, _the familiar link would have been broken. But it hasn't been._

_What do you mean? Can you reach her?_

_No_ , Softpaws reluctantly admitted. _I can't sense her at all, it's like she's very far away, too far away for me to reach her. But the point is, if the statue had crushed her, I would have felt the link break. I couldn't have missed that._ Edwina's head jerked up from her knees and she couldn't help yelping a little as sharp claws suddenly pressed themselves into her leg. _So you just get your bottom off this floor and get that statue away, and then rescue her!_

Staggering to her feet, the wizard tried to rub the tears away from her aching eyes. She knew she had to look a right mess, but she didn't care. Maybe…just maybe there was still a chance. If she was fast enough. If. She. Was. Fast. Enough. "What are you waiting for, you miserable mutated simians!" she screeched, running towards the statue and the subdued adventurers surrounding it, not caring that she slid in the blood on the slick marble floor. "GET THAT STATUE AWAY RIGHT NOW!" 

When the statue of Elminster finally rolled aside with a resounding clang, Edwina was ready to scream with frustration. She wasn't as physically strong as some of the others, and it galled her immensely that she couldn't do more to help. If only she could have levitated the ghastly thing through the roof…but she didn't know any spell that could pull that off. So, she was forced to labour with the rest, in grim silence. Even Jan was quiet and joining in the struggle despite his small size. And now…now the statue moved, and the wizard darted forward, her eyes frantically scanning the ground. There was blood, so much blood, and there was a hideously mangled body, squashed almost beyond recognition. One body. Only one. Zaerini was nowhere to be seen, and the dead Harper Wizard remained silent on her fate. 

"Minsc's Witch is not here?" the giant ranger said, sounding suddenly hopeful. "Minsc doesn't know how she escaped the Evil Statue, but Minsc is very happy for it, and so is Boo! See, the fur is standing on edge with delight all over his little body!" 

"We don't know that she’s alive!" Edwina snapped. "She…she could have gone the way of Sarevok! I was there, I saw what happened. He turned to dust, and there was nothing left of him. Nothing, except…" She suddenly fell silent, as the thought hit her. "Except for his armour and sword. Those were still left. So…if that had happened to her, then surely her clothes, her weapons would still remain…"

"But they aren't here," Jan said, his eyes keen and bright as he thoughtfully rubbed his large nose. "Well spotted, Red. But if she isn't dead, then where is she? One minute she's right there by the wizard, and then poof!" 

"The wizard!" Jaheira's voice was raw with sudden anger, and she clenched her hand into a fist, punching the palm of her other hand hard. "He was trying to cast some spell on her…and do none of you recall what that manipulating bastard Galvarey said? What he meant to do? Silvanus, I cannot believe we were all so blind!" 

It took a few seconds for the meaning of the druid's words to sink in. Then, Edwina realised just what they had to mean, and she felt deeply nauseous. "Imprisonment," she whispered. "He meant to cast an Imprisonment spell on her." 

"What does that entail?" Anomen asked. "How may we rescue the lady Zaerini?"

Edwina felt her legs wobbling again, as she tried very hard not to think about what the spell meant. But she knew, she knew all too well. That spell was still beyond her own skill, but she had studied its effects, as much as one could without actually casting it. A fate worse than death if ever there was one. _My poor Hellkitten…_ Then there was a firm hand steadying her by a grip around her arm, and she turned her head around, startled to find herself looking up into Minsc's purple-tattooed face. "The Evil Girl Wizard doesn't look too good," the Rashemite stated. "She must keep herself healthy and in one piece, or little Rini will be very upset when she comes back." 

_Comes back…if only it were that easy._ "You don't understand," she said, but she didn't try to tear herself free, annoying as it was to be propped up like that by the berserker. She was still unsteady and very nauseous, and at the moment she didn't trust herself to stand on her own. "She has been Imprisoned. That means she is currently tucked away in a magically created chamber, miles beneath the surface of the earth." She stared at the floor, at the pools of rapidly cooling blood. "Right below us, but unreachable to us. She will be trapped, unable to move, to see, even to draw breath, unable to do anything but think. Fully conscious, completely helpless and unable to free herself." 

Anomen spat out a curse that Edwina would have been far less surprised to hear from a sailor than from a priest. "For how long?" he growled. "How long does this fiendish curse last?"

"Indefinitely," the wizard replied, trying to keep her voice steady despite the dull ache of her heart. "If she is not released, she will remain there until Toril itself is destroyed. She will not die…no matter how much she will long for it." _I never thought about it like that before, not what it would actually feel like to have it happen to you. Not until it happened to her._

"How can she be freed?" Jaheira asked, and the clipped and demanding tones of her voice reminded Edwina for some reason of days long past, in the schoolroom. _I certainly hope you have done your homework, boy. Now, recite to me what we were discussing yesterday, about breaking somebody free from the Imprisonment spell. Granted, it will be a long time before you’ll be able to actually do it, but that is no excuse for ignorance._

As the memory of her teacher’s voice came back, so did the memory of her own childish one. _Yes, Teacher Dekaras. The only thing to break the Imprisonment spell is the spell of Freedom. Only really powerful wizards can cast it, and if they do it in the spot where somebody was Imprisoned, then that person is freed and restored to where they were last seen. And it works even if the first spell was cast hundreds of years ago! Isn’t that cool?_

_In a sense_ , her teacher had responded, sounding very serious. _However, it would be a good idea to take certain precautions first. It is not uncommon for the victim of Imprisonment to go utterly insane, and they could well attack the person who released them from that state of torment. Give me a quick death anytime – I would personally consider Imprisonment to be worse by far. Which is why it is a very good idea to learn how to protect yourself properly against it._

_But I thought there was no way to defend against Imprisonment?_

_Wrong. Very wrong. Any spell may be counteracted, if you are properly prepared for it. Which brings us to another very useful one, that of Spell Immunity. Know which school of magic the spell you wish to protect against belongs to, and you can do so. So, this afternoon I wish you to research certain dangerous spells, particularly those not countered by the minor protective spells, and learn their schools of magic by heart. And always remember, the time you take to research your foe may be exactly the edge you need to help you survive…_

A Freedom spell. Edwina inwardly blessed her mentor for his thoroughness, and then started cursing quietly to herself in Thayvian. She didn’t know the Freedom spell, and she knew that it would have been too difficult to cast for her anyway. _Curse it! I need power…more power. If only I’d been more powerful, this would be no problem at all._ But that line of thinking wouldn’t help her at all. Only one thing would. “A scroll of Freedom,” she muttered. “We have to find a scroll of Freedom, it’s the only thing that will help her.” 

The others gave her blank looks of no comprehension, except for Jan, who sadly shook his head. “That’s not a scroll easily found,” he said. “Especially not in Athkatla. None of the regular suppliers have access to magic that powerful.” 

“A plague of boils on this magic-hating and stinking little barbarian backwater of a country!” Edwina snarled. “I’ll tear it apart and make it slide into the ocean if she’s harmed, and millennia from now mothers will warn their younglings about the peril of threatening one as high above them as the sun is above an earthworm. I need that scroll; do you hear me? AND I WILL HAVE IT IF I HAVE TO FIGHT EVERY COWLED WIZARD IN EXISTENCE FOR IT, TOOTH AND NAIL!” Her voice had risen to an enraged scream during the final sentence, she was breathing heavily, and she could feel her fingers curling into claws. The rage felt good, and she clung to it, holding onto it tightly. Far better than gray despair, oh yes. 

“We cannot fight them all,” Anomen stated, looking grim. “Even this Irenicus thought better of it, as I understand it, despite his great powers. And yet I am prepared to try, if that is the only way of freeing the Lady Zaerini.” 

Jaheira shook her head. “She will not thank you for getting yourselves killed, children. But of course we must free her, somehow. For now, though, we must leave this place.” Her face was solemn, pale and serious. “We have prevailed for now, but soon there may be more…more Harpers coming. We cannot remain here. Let us retreat to safety, and then make new plans. There is nothing we can do here at the moment.” 

Edwina had to admit that the druid’s words made sense. After all, there were no Freedom scrolls lying about on the bloody floor, so there was no point in standing about when she could be actively working on Zaerini’s rescue. And yet, all her instincts screamed their protests at her as she finally allowed Jaheira to lead her out of the room. “We will come back,” she said. “And we will free her.” She could hear the frantic desperation in her own voice as she looked straight into the druid’s green eyes. They were stern, but also…compassionate? _Yes…of course. She lost her husband only recently. She would know, wouldn’t she?_ “I must free her, I must get her back. There must be some way…some way to undo this, to break the curse. I can’t leave her there, alone in the dark. You understand that, don’t you?”

Jaheira nodded, and for an instant her eyes shone with unshed tears. Then she blinked them away, and nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, of course I do.” 

-*-

Darkness was falling. Jaheira was pacing back and forth across the floor of her room in the Five Flagons’ Inn, a cozy little place run by a cheerful halfling by the name of Samuel Thunderburp. He seemed the perfect match to the stereotypical view of his kind, from the bouncing brown locks and red cheeks, across the plump cheeks and rounded belly, to the merry smile and friendly greetings he gave all his customers. However, the muscular half-orc bouncer in the corner was less jolly and had already bodily thrown out a dozen boisterous dwarves who had been making a mess of the crockery. The inn had a couple of unique features too; a very extensive wine cellar that Thunderburp claimed covered any alcoholic drink imaginable, and the theatre. There was actually an entire theatre set up in the basement, and a very popular one too. Jaheira could only too well imagine how delighted Zaerini would have been to visit it. 

_The poor child…Edwina is quite right; we have no time to lose. We have to get her out of there. And I would be happy to tear Galvarey to pieces again and again for putting her through this, if I hadn’t already done so._ There would be consequences to face for what had happened in the Harper Hold, that much she knew. Galvarey had been in the wrong, but all the witnesses to his actions were dead, unless you counted those of his cronies who had managed to escape. The corpses would tell their own story, one not necessarily coinciding with the truth. But that could not be helped. 

_I did what I had to do. I wish it had not needed to come to this, but I would never let her get harmed by some meddling fool trying to use her to fuel his own political ambitions._

Yet harmed Zaerini had been. Jaheira did not want to think about what the young woman must be going through right now. _She trusted me. And I led her to this fate. How can she ever forgive me this?_ She hadn’t known, no. _But I should have known! I should have known better than to trust Galvarey’s word. If I cannot bring her back safely, I will never forgive myself. I will not deserve it._

She was tired, weary to the bone. Her face felt grimy, and there were still some spots of blood in her hair. She hadn’t exactly had time to wash, and there were far more important matters to take care of anyway. At the moment, Jan and Edwina were visiting any possible supplier of spell scrolls that the little thief could think of, in the hopes of finding a Freedom scroll. However, the gnome had said that the chances were extremely slim. Most likely they would need to try something else, but at least they had to try the most direct route first, if only to dismiss it. _And it will keep Edwina busy for a little while, and hopefully keep her from going on a rampage._ Not surprisingly, the wizard’s mood was less than amiable. She was volatile in the extreme, flaring up again and again. Yet Jaheira could not really be angry with her, not under the circumstances. She had seen the fear in the other woman’s eyes and recognized the desperate urge in her voice. _Khalid…if it had been Khalid, I would have acted much the same. When…when we found him…I did act much the same. Silvanus, say that it will not come to that. I pray that Zaerini is not lost to us for good. I promised Gorion I would keep her safe, but I would do so even without that promise. I care for her as if she were my own. Even if she were a threat to the Balance, I could not have let Galvarey take her._

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. It was Jan, come to collect her and lead her to the room shared by himself, Minsc and Anomen. From the downcast look on his face, she could tell that there had been no success, a fact that he rapidly confirmed. The others looked equally glum.

“I’m not giving up while I’m still breathing,” Edwina stubbornly declared, her dark eyes blazing. “Somebody in this wretched city will own a Freedom scroll, and I will find that somebody. And if they will not sell it to me, then I will pry it from their cold dead fingers.” Her face turned suddenly very hard. “As it happens, I have an idea about where to start…” She turned and walked towards the door. “I will be taking a walk. (It shouldn’t be too difficult to find some of them…no, not difficult at all.)” 

The wizard had almost reached the door when she walked into a firm and very solid chest. Minsc had placed himself right in her path, blocking the exit. “Where is the Evil Girl Wizard going?” the ranger asked. “Not to do naughty things, Minsc hopes?”

“Let me pass, you great lout!” Edwina snarled, trying to push past Minsc, who was holding her by the arms, keeping her from moving. “I must hurry!”

“Minsc knows, but he also knows that his Witch would not want the Evil Girl Wizard to get in trouble. So Minsc must protect her and keep her from being silly, even if she gets mad. Little Rini would be very sad the Evil Girl Wizard got killed, and Minsc would cry too.” 

Edwina looked stunned. “But…you…(This is insane. This is utterly insane. I wonder if he’s contagious?)”

“So,” Minsc went on, “if the Evil Girl Wizard wants to do naughty things that could get her hurt, Minsc has no choice but to lock her in her room until she’s ready to promise to be good. Minsc wants little Rini free, but he knows what she would want.” 

“I told you to let me go!” Edwina said. “There are Cowled Wizards out there…lots of them! One of them will have a Freedom scroll, I just know it! All I have to do is to kill enough of them! Just a few little spells and they will come to me, walking straight into my cunning trap…” 

“Pouncing on you like cats on a mouse, you mean!” Jaheira interjected, cutting off the wizard’s angry diatribe. “Now, I admit you are good at what you do, but they would come after you in hordes and you cannot fight that many. Even…even Irenicus could not do that. I will not let you get killed; I owe Zaerini that much.” She took a deep breath. “However, you are right in that we must do whatever we can to free her. And that is why we will help you.” 

She had been prepared for shock, but not for quite the poleaxed expressions that followed. Anomen in particular was looking at her as if she had suddenly grown a second head. She raised her hand. “I normally would prefer to follow the law,” she said. “But the Cowled Wizards are corrupt to the core, and I cannot fault any wizard for defending himself against them. However, if you use magic to fight them, that will attract more and more of them. So here is what we will do…” 

Two hours later, Jaheira was standing guard at the entrance to a dark alleyway, why Jan was searching the body of the prone Cowled Wizard lying within. “Nope,” he eventually said. “Nothing here either…well, there were a couple of nice scrolls, but not the one we want. Sorry.” 

The plan was a simple one in theory, slightly more difficult in execution. Set an ambush, have Edwina attract the attention of the Cowled Ones by casting a spell or two, and wait. Minsc was very good at hitting them on the head from behind when they teleported in. Since only a minor spell was used initially, and no magic used for attacking, they would not bother sending more than a lone wizard at a time. So far it hadn’t been necessary to actually fight anybody, and Jaheira seriously doubted any of them would remember a thing. Unfortunately, the search had so far proved fruitless. A number of spell scrolls had been found, but Edwina just kept shaking her head impatiently at each one. Still, nobody had been able to come up with a better plan so far. While Jaheira would not normally approve of stealing, in this case she was prepared to make an exception, considering the situation. The need was dire after all, and the Cowled Wizards were extremely well supplied when it came to scrolls and magical artifacts. She looked up for a moment, glimpsing a couple of bright stars between the dark and towering houses crowding in on her. It was getting late by now, and still they had had no luck in their search. 

“What are you all waiting for?” Edwina hissed. “We need to go, to find another one! Why do you all have to be so slow?”

“We are doing everything we can,” Jaheira said, trying to control her temper. “You know that. Getting hysterical won’t help.” 

“I’m not hysterical! I’m never hysterical! I’m perfectly in control of my faculties as always, and...and…don’t you know what the Imprisonment does to a person’s mind? If we don’t get her out soon…” At this point the wizard started shivering, trying to support herself by leaning against the wall. Her face was very white, and she looked as if she was about to vomit. 

Shock, Jaheria realized. And no wonder either. I had better get her out of here, or she will collapse. Sparing no time to think about it, she grasped Edwina by the arm, propping the other woman up against her own shoulder. “You,” she said, “will be coming back to the Inn with me at once. You need some rest, and I will have no arguments about it. Jan can do the baiting part just as well as you do, and that is that. Now come along.” 

Edwina didn’t go without protests of course, but she did come, possibly because Minsc threatened to ‘carry the Evil Girl Wizard home and tuck her in’ if she didn’t take care of herself. Jaheira had a sneaking suspicion that the large man was starting to regard Zaerini’s lover as his second Witch, certainly a unique situation if she’d ever seen one. _And I bet quite a few people in both Thay and Rasheman would have some very serious objections to such a situation. Including Edwina herself._ “We will free her, you know,” Jaheira said after the two women had walked for a little while. “If there is any way at all to accomplish it, then that is what we will do. I swear it.” 

Edwina didn’t answer immediately, but simply kept walking. “You fought those Harpers for her sake,” she said. “That couldn’t have been easy. They are a powerful organization and will no doubt hound you for your choice. Not to mention that you have invested a lot of yourself in them. So why did you do it?”

“Why,” Jaheira levelly asked, “did you break your contact with the Red Wizards, in such a way as to make them want to put you to death? I understand you were practically born into their ranks, so it would not have been an easy decision to make.” 

A ghostly smile flickered across the wizard’s lips. “Point taken,” she said. “Of course, my current difficulty with my superiors is a very temporary one, and something I will undoubtedly rectify upon my eventual return to Thay.”

“Of course.” 

“But to answer your question – it was not easy. But then again, it was. Some things are far more important than others, after all.”

“Just so,” Jaheira said, nodding. “Far more important. I would have liked to avoid a fight with fellow Harpers, but not at the price they demanded. Galvarey was a fool to think otherwise.” 

“A dead fool,” Edwina said, smirking a little. “Very dead. It seems to me that the most convenient way of disposing of him would be to sell his remains off as dog food. That’s certainly what he looked like.” 

“Edwina!”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it. You practically bit his head off.”

“Well…I was angry. More than I should have been. But the point is that I will do whatever I can for Zaerini. I hope you trust that now. I just wish there was another way other than baiting those Cowled Wizards…surely there must be somebody else in this city who has access to powerful magic?” 

Edwina stopped in her tracks, and an elated look suddenly spread across her face. “But there is!” she exclaimed. “I only just recalled…there is somebody powerful who can help!” She veered sharply to the left, hurrying down a side street. “Faster!” she cried. “Faster, we have no time to lose!” 

“Wait!” Jaheira called out, hurrying after the excited wizard. “Where do you think you are going?”

“For a visit,” Edwina triumphantly stated. “A visit to that fellow called ‘Kangaxx’.” 

_Meanwhile…_

The statue was large, and it was very well made, with exquisite attention paid to all details. There could be no mistaking the identity of the person portrayed, none whatsoever. Especially since the statues of a certain gnome and half-elf were also clearly recognizable. The wizard watching the statue smirked a little as he pondered the ruse that had been used against him. Once it had worked. Once. But not again, not after seeing this, and after talking with some of the good people of Trademeet. “Edwin Odesseiron,” Degardan the Red Wizard whispered to himself, “I have you now.”


	83. Demilich and Disastrous Divination

**Cards Reshuffled 83 – Demilich and Disastrous Divination**

_Curiosity and persistence are great sometimes but can also be dangerous to yourself or others. Pity that you usually don’t know that you’ve gone too far until it’s already too late to turn back and you’re hip deep in quicksand with somebody aiming a crossbow at you._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“And you are sure this is the right place?” Jaheira said, sounding extremely skeptical. 

“Of course it is!” Edwina said, practically jumping up and down with excitement. “Have you ever known me to be mistaken about a matter of magical importance?” The druid’s raised eyebrow and small smile bypassed the wizard entirely. “Besides, that senile old lich Nevaziah made some hints. This is it; this has to be it. (Soon, soon my Hellkitten will be freed. And perhaps I might squeeze some powerful magical artifacts out of this Kangaxx person as well, one never knows. Or find a cure for my wretched condition…)” 

The two women were standing in front of a narrow doorway in the Docks District, studying the doorway. Jaheira studied it with narrow-eyed suspicion, Edwina with a bright-eyed and hungry eagerness that made the druid extremely uneasy. The door itself was narrow and made from dark wood, and it was almost invisible in the darkness, squeezed in as it was between two much broader buildings. The windows of the house were shuttered and closed, with no hint as to what lay behind them. Jaheira gave the door another long glance. There was something about it that she definitely didn’t like, though she couldn’t say exactly what. A sense of wrongness, as if something deeply unnatural was connected with it. 

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Edwina said. “Ah, I cannot believe this place lay right next to Mae’Var’s guild all along and I never knew about it…such power within my grasp…” She reached for the doorknob, and then shot Jaheira an irritated look as the druid grasped her by the hand. “What now?”

“Do not touch that door,” Jaheira said, her voice stiff. She could feel all the little hairs on the back of her neck prickling as a cold shiver ran down her back. The feeling was growing stronger, the feeling of…wrongness. Something associated with the door itself, yes. “I think there may be a trap on it. We should go back and find Jan.” 

“We can’t afford to waste more time!” Edwina snapped, tearing herself loose. She bared her teeth in something resembling a snarl. “Anything could be happening to Zaerini right now. Anything. So, I will not waste another minute when the means to free her might be close at hand.” 

“Fool child!” Jaheira growled, glaring into the other woman’s dark eyes. “Do you have a death wish, or are you simply trying to be contrary? Zaerini will not want you killed, and you have no idea what that trap does. Now stand back. I will deal with this.” Concentrating, she sought her inner energies, drawing upon the power of her god. She knew approximately what she needed, and she thought that her boon would be granted. _Or so I hope. Galvarey was in the wrong – surely Silvanus cannot fault me for his death?_ Still, she breathed a minor sigh of relief as she saw a small pinprick of bright light form between her outstretched hands in response to her prayer. It rapidly grew and coalesced into a shimmering and vaguely humanoid form, radiating heat that was intense enough that she had to take a step back. “Open that door,” she commanded the fire elemental, and the creature obediently floated towards the door, reaching for it. 

There was a brief flash of bright light, and the fire elemental screamed, and then dwindled into nothing in an instant. The scream seemed to linger in the air behind it, as if the elemental had been sucked suddenly into a deep hole. 

“Ah,” Edwina faintly said after a few seconds shocked pause. “A Death Spell, I think. How ingenious. This bodes well.” 

“It bodes well? That thing could have killed you!” 

“Well, yes. But remember, a dangerous trap means that something valuable is hidden behind it. (Not that I was in any real danger – I am certain my superior will power would have completely protected me.) This Kangaxx is probably powerful enough to serve our needs.” 

“Or to kill us both,” Jaheira muttered, but she followed the wizard though the dark door, which she was strenuously trying to avoid thinking of as the ‘Dread Wooden Portal Of Doom’. Edwina had made one good point before they got here. If this ‘Kangaxx’ truly might have the power to break the Nether Curse, as Nevaziah the lich had hinted, then there was a high likelihood that he was also powerful enough to possess a Freedom scroll. Of course, whether he wanted to share it was a different story, but she had to agree with Edwina in that they had to try. They really did have no time to spare and she would never forgive herself if they came too late. “Very well,” she said. “Let us go then.” 

“No need to worry,” Edwina magnanimously offered. “You are in the presence of the most brilliant mage you will ever be fortunate enough to meet, and I am more than capable of handling anything thrown at us.”

_Five minutes later._

“Anything thrown at us, you say?” Jaheira dryly remarked, yanking a large axe out of the wall where it had nailed the sleeve of Edwina’s robe in place. “How very comforting.” 

“And how was I supposed to know there would be three hungry minotaurs running around in here? (That explains those odd snuffling noises I would sometimes hear through the wall late at night in the guild. And here I thought it was rats.)” 

“Never mind. Let us just continue.” 

The first few rooms they passed through certainly weren’t anything out of the ordinary, as far as derelict old houses went. The dust lay thick on the floor, except for the hoof prints left by the minotaurs, and it seemed that those had confined themselves to only a few of the rooms. Apart from that, it didn’t look as if anybody had come this way for many a year. There were a few pieces of furniture, ancient tables and rickety chairs, covered with so much dust and cobwebs that they almost looked like small clouds. Both women coughed more than once as they made their way from room to room. The cupboards were bare, with no trace of food anywhere. _Whoever lived here died long ago it seems_ , Jaheira thought. We should turn back; surely there is nothing further to be found here. And then they came across the staircase. It was a narrow and winding stone spiral staircase, leading down into unknown depths. The dust was just as thick here, if not more so, and undisturbed by footprints. _And yet I could not leave in good conscience until I was certain we had searched everywhere, and left no room unexplored._

Edwina raised her hand, and a small globe of red light flared into being, drifting in the air around her. “Shall we?” she asked. Jaheira simply nodded. No choice. 

Below the staircase lay a room that was a clear contrast to the abandoned house above. The house was old, yes, but this place was ancient. It was a hollowed out stone chamber, with faint purple light emanating from magical torches embedded within the walls. Some of them flickered in a way that made Jaheira’s eyes water. Others had gone out entirely, and she felt uneasy as she wondered just how long they had been burning before that happened. The room was dominated by a large stone dais, with a few steps leading up to it, and on top of the dais stood sarcophagus, as dust covered as the floor was. “This is pointless,” she said. “There is nothing here to help us.” 

“Perhaps,” Edwina said, frowning. “The old lich was senile and deranged after all, he could have been confused. But all the same, I should like to take a closer look.” She stepped up to the sarcophagus, delicately brushing the dust away with a carefully manicured hand. “There is some writing here,” she said, “smudged but legible. It just says ‘Kangaxx’.” 

“So he is dead then, whoever he was. Probably that deranged lich knew him ages ago, and was too befuddled to realize he must have passed on.” 

A voice sounded from within the sarcophagus, a hollow and echoing voice, and yet somehow oddly greasy. Jaheira got the immediate image of an untrustworthy salesman, albeit one who had been dead for a few hundred years. “Well, well, well!” it said. “Would you just look at that – visitors! And here I haven’t had one in ages. And who might you be?”

“Edw…” Edwina proudly began, and then her voice deteriorated into muffled noises as Jaheira hastily clamped her hand over the wizard’s mouth. _If she bites, I will make her regret it._

“Nobody special,” she hastily said. 

“Ahhh…” the voice sighed, sounding pleased. “How interesting. Well, my friends, I am Kangaxx. And in case you’re wondering what I’m doing in this thing, I have been cursed.” For somebody cursed, the voice sounded gratingly cheerful, Jaheira thought. “I am dead, yet not dead. Cursed to eternal entrapment in this tomb by cruel enemies, cursed to a fate worse than death! Have you any idea how bored I am? There are only so many times you can play ‘I Spy’ with yourself before getting tired of it, especially if you’re inside a coffin. So, what do you want, young Miss Nobody and Miss Special?” 

“Hear me out, creature!” Edwia stated in her most imperious voice. “We are told that you are in possession of some measure of magic, and we wish to procure your services. If you can cast the spell of ‘Freedom’, or have such a scroll in your possession, we will spare your life, perhaps even reward you.” 

The sarcophagus was silent for a few seconds, and then chuckled, a deep and somehow syrupy sound. “Very humorous,” it said. “For lifting my boredom, I will make you a proposition in return. You see, I cannot truly die until my curse is broken, and I’ve had enough. Undeath isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, you know? Break my curse, and I will give you the scroll you require.” 

“This is an extremely bad idea,” Jaheira hissed into Edwina’s ear. “I do not know what is inside that coffin, but I can sense its power, and it is very dangerous.” 

“Good,” the wizard airily said. “If it is dangerous, then it will have power, and might be able to help us. And it assuredly will be no match for me.” She cleared her throat. “What is it that you would ask of us?” she said to the sarcophagus. 

“Oh, that’s easy-peasy, really. You see, the wizards who cursed me scattered my bones in different places in the city. Jealous of my magic, they were. They did it to prevent me from escaping this place, except in spirit, and to keep me from escaping into true death. If I get my bones back, I will be able to die.”

“And where might these bones be found?” Jaheira asked. 

“I cannot say for sure – I can sense their presence, but I can’t pinpoint them. But hey, I can at least give you a general idea. Some are underground, in the north part of the city, below the shining buildings of the Temple District. Some are hoarded closer to this point, surrounded by water on all sides. And you can’t mistake them for anything else, they’re covered with gold, you see.” 

“We do not have the time to run about the city searching for old bones,” Jaheira flatly stated. “A friend of ours needs that Freedom spell, and soon.” 

“Hmmm…” the voice said, considering. “Tell you what, little lady. I’ll give you the scroll in advance, just ‘cos I like you two.” 

“And you would trust us to keep our word?” Edwina asked, smirking sardonically. “There is a hook hidden somewhere in this sweetmeat, isn’t there? What is it?”

“Just a little insurance, to make sure you do the job. A teeny tiny little thing.” The voice chuckled again, and Jaheira felt as something soft and slimy had just stroked her skin, coating it with a thin film of dirty grease. “A Geas spell. One of you must undertake it voluntarily, a geas to find my bones and bring them here.”

“And what,” Jaheira asked, “will happen if we fail?”

Edwina answered before the creature in the coffin could cut in. “Simply this,” she said, and her cheeks had turned quite pale. “The bearer of the geas would die, in a very painful way. (Perhaps we could fight him and take the scroll all the same – but it would be risky, the scroll could get accidentally destroyed.)” She raised her voice. “I agree to your contract, Kangaxx. Give me the scroll, and I will give you leave to cast your geas.” 

“Excellent!” the voice crowed. “Such nice guests you are! Give me a moment, I’ll be right with you.” The sarcophagus began to rock swiftly from side to side, and there was smoke pouring out from inside it. 

“Are you insane?” Jaheira whispered. “You cannot do this!” 

“Pah, it will be no problem,” Edwina said. “We will have a whole month to find those bones, it cannot be that difficult, especially for a mage of my caliber. You might even learn a thing or two about treasure hunting if you are lucky. And besides, we need that scroll.” 

“And you shall have it!” Kangaxx stated. Jaheira turned around to see the smoke forming above the sarcophagus, forming into a clear shape, some sort of a magical projection. The shape of a golden skull, chewing a fat cigar. One of its teeth, she noticed, had been replaced with a large and glittering diamond. “Let’s talk business, girls!” it said. “And don’t you worry your little heads about a thing, Honest Kangaxx is here to help you make the deal of a lifetime…” 

-*-

There was blackness. There was silence. There was solitude. And then the world exploded. Zaerini screamed as blinding light pierced her eyes, assaulting them with painful brightness. Or rather she tried to scream, but it came out as more of a pitiful whimper. Not that she was able to tell the difference, not with all the sounds. Voices, roaring in her ears, sounding as loud as a thunderstorm. It hurt; it made her unable to think of anything but of how badly it hurt. Her ragged breathing and the irregular pulse in her throat were deafening, pounding inside her head. Yes, she was breathing again, and the cool air rushing into her lungs hurt as well, as did every movement of her suddenly aching muscles. And there were smells, assaulting her nostrils and serving to confuse her even further. Smoke, and blood. And people, different people. She could hear their voices, but they were so loud. Too loud, and she couldn’t shut them out. 

Whimpering again, the half-elf curled into a protective ball, covering her head with her arms. She had no idea where she was or what was going on, only that it wasn’t something she was prepared to deal with right now. _Sarevok? Where did he go? Brother…_

The pain was receding gradually, although she still kept her eyes closed in order not to have her newly awakened senses too brutally assaulted. And now something soft touched her hand, something very soft and comforting. Almost unconsciously she reached out and pulled it closer towards her, clinging to it. 

_That’s right, kitten. I’m here, and you’re going to be all right._

A strong wave of relief hit her. If her familiar was here, then she was no longer in the Abyss – assuming all of that hadn’t just been a nightmare. And it meant she was safe. _Softy…I’m so glad you’re here._

_Of course you are._ The cat curled up more tightly in her arms, snuggling closer. _Silly kitten – letting yourself get caught like that. But you’ll be fine now._

_What happened to me?_

_Bad magic. But your wizard managed to fix you up. Well, after making a lot of noise and running about all over the place._

_Poor Edwina…_

_She’ll be fine. You will get some rest now, and then you’ll be able to talk to her. Right now, your head is still muddled, that’s why you can’t hear what the others are saying properly._

_Oh. All right. Just don’t go anywhere, Softy. I don’t want to be alone again._

The cat was silent for a few seconds. _I’m not going anywhere, kitten_ , she said. Rini could feel something rasping against her hands and managed to conclude that it was the cat’s tongue, although the sensation was so magnified that it felt like a rough piece of bark. _Now go to sleep._

When Zaerini awoke, she was very relieved to find that her ears seemed to have readjusted themselves, as well as her senses of smell and touch. She kept her eyes closed and tried to make sense of where she was. Yes, there were soft sheets surrounding her, clean and smooth. _Bed. Very good._ Even better, there was a warm body right next to her, one that was intimately familiar to her. She smiled, still with her eyes closed. An arm was wrapped around her shoulders, cradling her close, and her head was nestled against her lover’s neck. Hot skin beneath her cheek, utterly perfect to the touch, and as she inhaled the sweet and warm scent of her lover filled her nostrils, making her feel completely relaxed and secure. _Mmmmm…it’s good to be back._ Another hand stroked her hair, and carefully traced the outline of her pointed ear. _Better than good._

“Good morning,” she said, secretly relieved that her voice sounded as she remembered it, and she opened her eyes. Edwina shifted around a little in bed until she was half-sitting, facing the bard, and gave her a delighted smile in return. She was, Rini noticed, not wearing anything except for the dark ruby amulet around her throat, and the view from beneath was a very lovely one indeed. The wizard’s dark hair, normally perfectly groomed, hung in a tangled mess about her face, she had dark circles beneath her eyes and looked so exhausted she was almost cross-eyed, and to Zaerini’s eyes she looked perfectly beautiful. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Softpaws get up from the spot she’d been sleeping in, right by Rini’s knee, and jump onto the floor. The cat muttered something about moving before the bed started bouncing about. 

“Good morning,” Edwina said, her fingers tracing light patterns across the half-elf’s skin in a manner that could almost have been taken for absent-minded distraction, but most certainly wasn’t. In fact, it was beginning to make Rini feel as if the sheets were soon about to become extremely unnecessary, and with every second it was getting harder to lie still. “It is good to see you have decided to join us again, my Hellkitten. Really, you ought to be more careful around hostile Harpers, you know. Of course, my magnificent magical skills easily rescued you from the dastardly Imprisonment spell, with me flawlessly bending the arcane energies to my will in order to distort time and space in a manner few mortals can ever hope to emulate. But these things take time, and there are so many more enjoyable ways we could be spending our time, don’t you agree? (Ah, she’s getting flushed now…definitely on the right track here. Perhaps just a little slower though…)” 

“Imprisonment?” Rini said, and then she suddenly gasped as Edwina did something she certainly hadn’t counted on. She wasn’t about to complain though. Oh no. She’d willingly eat a live octopus if only the wizard would continue with what she was doing. “How did…uh…how did you get me out?” _What am I doing, distracting her by talking to her?_ She reached up, pulling the other woman closer towards her, ignoring the fact that the dangling amulet almost hit her in the eye. 

“Oh…just did a little trading for a scroll of Freedom,” Edwina airily replied, as her hands increased their pace. “I am a masterful bargainer, of course.”

_Uh Oh._ “Edwina, what did you…” And then Zaerini completely forgot what she’d been about to say as her lover’s touch made her feel as if her mind was turning to jelly. 

” Later,” Edwina whispered, sounding rather breathless herself. “Right now, just hold still, be silent, relax and let me give you a proper Thayvian Welcome Back ceremony to show you just how much I’ve missed you. (Although some brief exclamations may be permitted.)” 

_Never mind. I’m sure it couldn’t be all that important._

A while later, Zaerini yawned widely, blinking a little against the bright sunlight filtering into the room through the window. It was quite a nice room, she thought. There was a great wardrobe against one wall, with a large oval mirror on the door, the wide wooden bed had some really pretty carvings of galloping unicorns along the headpiece, and the deep blue and silver carpet on the floor was only the slightest bit threadbare. 

“And there’s something you will enjoy even more downstairs,” Edwina said with a smug smile as Rini expressed her approval. “An actual theatre, and from what I hear the troop is quite popular. Granted, they couldn’t possibly stand up to the superior culture displayed in the theatre district of my home. One day, once certain things are sorted out, including me gaining my proper body back, I will take you there. We will have the best box of course, and you will have exquisite jewels to impress all the other ladies with, not that they could be more than lowly baubles compared to yourself of course.” She pursed her lips a little and ran her fingers along the half-elf’s cheek and towards her lips. “Topazes, I think. Or perhaps fiery amber, to match your eyes. In gold settings, naturally.” 

“Mmm…” Rini purred, planting a brief kiss on the fingers touching her mouth. “If you like, though I want you more than I want any jewels in the world. And don’t worry. Somehow, we’ll make sure you get to see your home again, and your family.” She toyed with the ruby amulet hanging around Edwina’s throat, twisting it idly around her fingers. Eventually she gave it a small tug, pulling the wizard’s face closer so she could give her a kiss. “And I’d love to visit this theatre when we have the time. But first we need to work out what to do about Jan’s problem, and Ano’s sister. And then there’s still the matter of raising the money to rescue Immy…” 

“We will still have the time,” Edwina assured her. “You were asleep a long time, but the masquerade party won’t be until tomorrow night, so there is plenty of time to decide how to best fool that annoyingly meddlesome Avariel. (May her next facial treatment cause all the skin on her face to fall off and never to regenerate, and her nose to grow to the permanent size of a cucumber.) And as for the other matter, it surely won’t take up all our time.” 

“Hm. We’ll see. I would love to go…but business first. Which reminds me…” Zaerini gave the amulet another little tug, admiring the reddish sparkle within the dark depths. “Mind if I have another look at this? It really annoys me that I can’t figure out how it works; you know how I am when I’m curious about something. Can I have another go at it? Please?” 

“Just be careful,” Edwina said, frowning a little. “If it gets unpleasant, promise you’ll pull back.” 

“Right you are. I’ll be really careful, I promise.” Rini focused on the amulet, concentrating her scrying on it, letting the faint and throbbing glow within it mesmerize her thoroughly. _I’ve got you now. I will find out your secret this time._ The world narrowed, focused, and as she blinked it shifted around her. 

She was walking underground, through a labyrinthine system of caves, going deeper and deeper. The tunnel was dark, with steep chasms impeding her way here and there, and with sharp rocks forcing her to be very careful about where exactly she put her feet. It wasn’t entirely dark though. As she looked up, Zaerini could see faint light coming from here and there within the walls. There were thin veins of gold, and glittering gems embedded deep within the black rock, shining with magical light. It was a beautiful sight, and she watched for a little time, drinking it in. Whatever the scrying was trying to show her, at least this was a beautiful place. 

Not only beautiful though, she soon learnt, but dangerous as well. The path kept getting narrower and steeper, and it forked time and again. Since she had no idea where she was going, she kept choosing paths at random. There was nothing better to do after all. At some points she had to squeeze her slim body between large boulders in order to move on, or creep on hands and knees through some small tunnel. It wasn’t very pleasant, and all the while she could hear a low and rhythmical noise, like the beating of a distant heart. There was another sound too, a faint whisper, almost too quiet for her to hear. She couldn’t make out much of what the voice was saying, or even what the speaker’s gender was, but she could tell that he or she wasn’t pleased. 

_Go away…keep out…dangerous…_

The bard startled as several sharp stone spikes suddenly shot out of the ground right next to her and forced her to leap aside. If she’d been just a little slower, she would have been eviscerated. Yes, somebody really didn’t want her here. _Well, that’s just too bad. I will find out about this place if it kills me._ She clenched her teeth and narrowly avoided another cluster of spikes. A rumbling sound from above made her look up, only to see the roof lowering itself towards her head, even as the floor shot up. And yes, there were spikes on the roof as well, implying that somebody meant to insure she got both squished and impaled. _Gods, somebody really doesn’t want me to come here_ , she thought as she ran, trying to outrace the trap. There was light ahead, and she strained towards it, now running bent double as fast as she could. _Down…down…roll…ohshitohshitohshit!_

There was a loud slam, and Rini got to her feet, staring with wide eyes at the corridor behind her, or rather what had been the corridor behind her. The floor of it had thoroughly slammed into the ceiling; there was only solid rock there now. If she’d been trapped in there she would have become as flat as a pancake. 

_Get out…leave…keep away!_ The whisper in the air was louder now, and definitely angrier, a cold and deadly hiss. Zaerini shivered. She could break the scrying she supposed…but she didn’t really want to. Curiosity had her in a firm grip, and it would be so annoying to give up now that she finally felt that she was getting somewhere. She had no idea how this place in any way related to Edwina or the amulet, or what it was all about, but she still meant to find out. It had to be important, if it was this well protected. 

“Oh, sod off,” she muttered, before she went on. “I’m coming anyway, so nyah!” 

The angry whisper broke off instantly, indicating that she had been heard. It didn’t resume, but she still had the uncomfortable feeling that somebody was watching her out of the deep shadows. Somebody who wasn’t at all happy about her progress. Frowning briefly, she slipped into her alternate form of a small red cat. This proved to be a happy decision, since it made her able to make easier progress. It also turned out that the light weight of a cat wasn’t enough to trigger most of the traps that were clustered densely within the labyrinth, and the ones she did trigger she was able to avoid by virtue of her quicker reflexes and heightened agility. After a while she stopped keeping count of them. There were pitfalls, and more spikes, fireballs, falling boulders, and much more. Her nerves were so taut that her fur was standing on edge all across her back, but still she kept on. 

And then something changed. The passage started slowly widening, which was a great relief. Then it opened up into an actual cave, and she could see light ahead, blessed light. Not daylight, it was too unsteady for that, not to mention the wrong color. Sometimes it was red, sometimes yellow or green or purple, but it kept changing so rapidly that it was hard to keep track of it. As she turned the corner, she could see that the light was coming from what looked almost like a miniature sun, a glowing ball of energy that hung in midair, right in the middle of the small cave. As the light reflected off the gold and gems in the walls, they sparkled in all the colors of the rainbow, making Zaerini smile in admiration at the beautiful sight of it. She changed back to her normal shape and slowly approached the magical light. No traps so far. Just a little closer…and closer. She was almost close enough to touch it now. “But what are you?” she whispered. 

“It’s mine,” a high-pitched voice said from right behind her, making her jump. “And that’s all you need to know. Now go away and leave me alone.” 

Turning around, the bard found herself facing something she definitely hadn’t been expecting. Monsters she’d been prepared for, dragons or demons. But not this. “Hey!” she exclaimed. “You’re just a kid! What are you doing down here?”

The child scowled darkly up at her, with an expression that probably would have looked menacing on somebody about his three times his age. Rini thought it looked really cute. He was small, perhaps eight or nine, it was hard to tell, especially in this odd light, and he was dressed in plain pants and tunic, dark and with no particular ornamentation. He had messy black hair, currently a little too long, and it kept tumbling into his eyes so that he had to push it out of the way. Dark eyes, looking very large in that small and solemn face, and currently extremely put out. “This is my place, not yours,” he said. “So, I should be asking you that. How did you get past the traps? I thought I’d made sure nobody could get in.” 

“Hang on! Are you saying that you set those traps? You almost killed me!” 

The boy shrugged. “Almost isn’t good enough,” he said. “And it’s your own fault for coming in here when I warned you off before.” His mouth set in a stubborn line. “Just so you know, I’ll kill you if you try to hurt me. See if I don’t. I’m not letting anybody do that again.” He sounded perfectly serious, and the brief look of pain she saw in his eyes before he looked away made Rini ache to offer him a hug and some comfort. She doubted he’d accept it though, not at this point. Not with the wary and tense way he kept watching her, like a hunted animal prepared to bite. _Poor kid…I wonder what happened to him? And I’d really like to have a word with whoever it was that made him like that._

“Hey, don’t worry,” Zaerini said out loud, spreading her hands in a defensive gesture while she tried to keep her voice as soothing and non-threatening as possible. “I promise I won’t hurt you.” 

“Ha!” the boy snorted. “That’s what _they_ said too. Don’t think you fool me. Just go away, or you’ll be sorry.” 

“All right,” the half-elf said, not wanting to agitate the child further. “I will go in just a moment. But can’t you at least tell me who you are? And what that thing is? And most especially, what all of this has to do with a certain amulet? You do know about the amulet, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” the boy readily admitted. “I know all about that.” He gave her an angelic smile that gradually turned into a satisfied little smirk. “But I’m not telling. It’s a secret, and I’m good at keeping secrets. I’ve had lots of practice, you know. If you’re smarter than you look, you might guess on your own though.”

_Cute he may be, but also incredibly annoying._ “So what can you tell me then?” Rini asked, fighting not to lose her patience. “What are you doing here? You’re not planning to hurt Edwin, are you?” 

The boy looked at her as if she’d just asked him if he planned to cut his head off any time soon. “Are you always this thick?” he asked. “Or am I getting some kind of special treatment? Of course I’m not going to hurt him.” He extended his hand, and the floating light drifted towards him, hovering above his open palm. “I’m here because I’m shut inside, and so is this.” The light danced between his hands as he moved them, growing continuously brighter. “I can’t bring it out, because the way is gone. But he can, so I’m letting him.” He let the light drift towards her, then yanked it away as she reached out for it and stuck his tongue out. “But you’re not allowed, so don’t even try. Like I said, I’ll kill you if you try.” 

“Look here, kid, all this talk about killing me is getting really old and…” Zaerini broke off. There had been a sound in the distance, as of a voice calling out in triumph, in a language she couldn’t understand. She turned towards the child again, and saw that he had paled significantly, and that he was trembling a little. 

“Oh no,” the boy said, and now his voice sounded very small, and very young. “Oh no…” 

“What is it? What’s wrong? Can I help you?” 

“Don’t you understand?” the boy said, and he took a few steps backwards. “You can’t help. You did this. I warned you away, again and again, but you opened the way inside all the same. You weakened my defenses, and now they’ve managed to break through. They’re going to find me now…and then they’ll come.” He gave her a final, frightened look. “Go away now. Hurry. Before they come. And don’t come back.” 

“But I can’t just leave you!” 

“I said go away! I can’t go, and you can’t help. Just go. Please?” 

Reluctantly, Zaerini let go, and she saw the walls of the cave shift and stir around her, forming into new patterns. Then there was daylight all around, and she blinked, finding herself back in her bed at the Five Flagons’ Inn, a very worried-looking Edwina watching her. “Are you all right?” the wizard asked. “What happened?”

“I’m not sure,” Rini said, fighting a sick feeling that twisted her stomach. “But I think I may just have made a really bad mistake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is where I really set a certain plotline in motion. The consequences of Rini's rashness will follow later, as she has just done the equivalent of pushing a large rock down a hill without checking if somebody is standing at the bottom first.


	84. Masquerade

**Cards Reshuffled 84 – Masquerade**

_I’ve been to a few parties, and one very important thing I’ve learnt is that fizzy wine is dangerous. It goes down nicely, and you feel just like yourself. And then suddenly, wham, it hits you over the head, and before you know it, you’re telling off-color jokes to the High Priest of Helm or something. The one about the rabbit is actually pretty funny though…_

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Wait…wait…run that by me again. What did you just say that you did?” 

“She let a dangerous undead creature put a curse on her,” Jaheira said in a toneless voice, indicating Edwina with a cutting hand gesture. The druid shook her head, then massaged her temples as if she was getting a bad headache. “I admit I find it a bit difficult to believe myself.” 

“Not a curse!” Edwina protested, frowning with annoyance. “A geas. That’s a big difference, though I wouldn’t expect somebody not properly educated in the arcane arts to know. And for your information, it was a demilich. (The skull form and the diamond teeth make it a certainty, as anybody ought to know if they’ve had more than rudimentary schooling.) Then, we simply used a few illusion spells to get inside the Harper base again, and the rest you know.” 

Zaerini echoed Jaheira’s gesture, massaging her head. The experience with Edwina’s amulet had left her in a tense and uncomfortable mood, wondering what kind of hideous disaster she had inadvertently caused. She’d only given the very briefest of summaries to her lover, not wanting to even think about what she had seen, and Edwina had seemed just as puzzled as she was. Rejoining her other friends and seeing their happiness at her recovery had temporarily cheered her. Then Edwina and Jaheira had started explaining just how they had acquired the magic spell that had freed her, and now her stomach was a tense knot of worry once again. _She risked her own life by dealing with that thing – for my sake. If she doesn’t fulfill the geas she will die. Oh Edwina…_

_She loves you very much you know_ , Softpaws said, rubbing herself against her mistress’ hand, leaning in to be scratched. 

_I know. And I love her just as much._ “I know what a demilich is,” she told Edwina, looking the wizard straight in the eyes. “And how dangerous one is. I wish you hadn’t had to risk yourself for me like that – but I love you for doing it. And we’ll find those hidden bones that this Kangaxx creature wanted, if I have to dig up all of Athkatla to do so.”

Edwina smiled, looking as content as a cat in front of a large bowl of cream. “Certainly, we will,” she proudly stated. “For a mage of my accomplishments, a minor treasure hunt such as this will be an afternoon’s work at the most.” She held up a small golden pendulum, hanging from a thin chain. “The creature gave me this to simplify the matter further. When I am close enough to the bones, the pendulum will point the way, and it is completely foolproof. And they are within the city walls somewhere, so I am bound to locate them sooner rather than later.” 

“Let’s hope so,” Rini said. “We’ll start searching for them as soon as possible. But first we need to handle this meeting with the Hidden tomorrow. It won’t be easy either, with Aerie present at that party the Lady Jysstev is giving. We can’t afford to let her see us.” 

“Should be simple enough to arrange,” Jan said, wiggling his fingers about. The little gnome was sitting on the table in Zaerini’s room at the Five Flagons, dangling his short legs over the side. As he spoke, he made a few sparkling lights drift lazily from one of his hands to the other. “A few fancy illusions, and that Avariel wouldn’t recognize you if you waltzed up to her looking like her own mother. Which reminds me of the strange tale of Marty Jansen, who was a very clever ancestor of mine…or was he a descendant? Anyway, he built himself a horse cart that could travel through time rather than space, and ran solely on turnip gas, and let me tell you, the gnomes who produced the gas were very happy gnomes indeed.” 

Zaerini happened to look at Anomen at this point. The cleric had a glazed look in his eyes, and he was muttering something that sounded like: ‘Helm help me, I must not slay my companions…no matter how tempting.’ 

“So,” Jan went on, grinning, “Marty immediately took a trip to the past, and of course the very first thing he did was to run into his parents. And naturally his mother, not knowing who the handsome young gnome was, fell in love with him, thus risking him never being born, which would have been pretty ironic and incidentally would have led to me never being born either.” 

Edwina sighed wistfully; her eyes filled with longing. 

“But,” Jan said, “Marty was a clever gnome as I said, and he managed to fix things up by fumbling his first date with his mother by ‘accidentally’ letting her see him wear adult diapers, something that will really ruin any romantic evening. She was so disgusted, she stormed off and swore she’d never touch Marty’s diaper-clad bottom again, and then went happily back to Marty’s father, setting herself up for a major irony you might say…have I told this story before? Marty’s still out there somewhere, and the Jansen Space-Time Continuum is a little screwed up because of it.” 

“That is not the only thing around here that is screwed up,” Edwina muttered. “Be that as it may,” she said in a louder voice, “the Avariel might well be able to penetrate an illusion. Such a risk is not acceptable.” 

“Minsc and Boo will handle it!” Minsc volunteered, raising his hamster proudly. “Minsc liked Aerie at first, but now Minsc knows she is Evil, so Minsc will not be fooled again. And Boo loves parties, don’t you Boo? With little paper hats and some nuts?” The hamster squeaked, rubbing its furry tummy with its front paws. 

“Thanks all the same Minsc,” Zaerini said and patted the ranger on the arm. “But I really think some sort of disguise will be necessary and I don’t think we could disguise you.” She turned to Edwina again. “Honestly, I can handle this. I can change my shape temporarily, remember?” 

“You can’t go to a society affair in the form of a cat, no matter how pretty a one.”

“I wasn’t planning to go as a _cat!_ ” The half-elf sighed, feeling exasperated. “I can change my shape in other ways, you know that.” 

“Only for a short while though,” Anomen said. “Please, my lady, have a care. If you were to change back while that fiendish elf happened to be watching you, you would be in great danger. You must not take such a risk.” 

“And she will not,” Edwina said. The wizard stood up from her seat at the table, and there was an oddly disconcerting gleam in her eyes. “But our little wingless one will not be able to see through _this_.” She made a grandiose gesture, indicating her own female form. “It is not a spell, so it cannot be penetrated by magic. She will never recognize me, looking like this. (Perhaps this curse can finally prove to have some sort of benefit.)” 

“What?! NO!” Rini hadn’t exactly meant to scream, but the sound tore out of her throat all the same. She also couldn’t remember getting to her feet, but there she was, clutching Edwina’s arms like she was trying to rescue the other woman from drowning. The wizard looked more than a little surprised. “She knows you, suppose she figures out who you really are? Don’t you understand what she’ll most likely do to you?”

“Of course I do,” Edwina said, and she sounded unusually grim and serious. She reached out her hand towards Zaerini, toying with a strand of red hair. “I met her long before you did, you know that. But if this needs doing, then I am the most logical choice, since I already have the perfect disguise. (Awkward and annoying as it is.) And as I doubt you will let the matter drop, then I must do so, if only to prevent you from making some foolish mistake that will send you to your doom.”

_I can’t let her…but I can’t really stop her, can I? And it might be our only chance of finding the Hidden and helping that poor little gnome girl. And she is right about the disguise, she is the one of us who stands the best chance._ “Go then,” Zaerini said, wrapping her arms firmly around her lover. “But don’t you dare so much as go near Aerie, do you hear me? Just stay away from her, find the Hidden, get him to help Jaella, and then get out fast. Promise?”

“That goes without saying,” Edwina said, puffing herself up a little. “I am extremely discreet and diplomatic, you know that. There will be absolutely no trouble at all.” 

Zaerini tried to smile. However, her insides still felt as if they had been turned to water, and she had to fight a strong urge to tie her lover down and sit on her in order to keep her safe. Being unable to do so, she had to resort to making plans instead. It was decided that the day would be spent on two things, getting Edwina outfitted for the party, and starting the investigation into Moira Delryn’s murder, at least paying a visit to the magistrate. Anomen claimed the woman in question was decent and honest, and that she would at least be truthful about anything she knew. Rini hoped he was right. She could see that her friend was determined to try to present a brave façade, but she had seen the desperate look that crept into his eyes whenever he thought nobody could see him. She wanted very much to help him find his sister’s murderer, hoping that it might bring him at least a little bit of peace. _Something he really deserves. I wouldn’t mind some peace myself…but with Edwina traipsing off to that party I’m likely to get a bleeding ulcer instead._

-*- 

When you had eliminated all impossible solutions to your problem, the one that remained, no matter how disagreeable, had to be chosen. That was only logical after all, and Dekaras had repeated it to himself more than once. It didn’t mean he had to like it though. The assassin had been in a very tense mood ever since Bodhi had informed him of what exactly she wanted him, or rather his alter ego ‘Mordo’ to do. 

_Such a simple task. Simply make contact with the torture-loving elf who has sworn blood vengeance against me and convince her to work with the equally blood-thirsty vampire who helped abduct Imoen and the others. Oh yes and do it without ‘Aerie’ recognizing me. Or Bodhi learning of my real identity. How do I always manage to wind up in these situations?_

Dekaras gave the reflection in the mirror a dark look. Yes, he had managed to think of a plan of action that would hopefully allow him to do the seemingly impossible, but the risk would still be great. Still, he felt he had to take it. He couldn’t afford to refuse the mission Bodhi had given him, or he would be faced with the vampire’s wrath. That would be dangerous in itself, but it would also mean losing the trail he was following towards Imoen. Bodhi was beginning to…not to trust him, but to rely on him. She had let a few things slip, so far only fairly minor details about her plans, but it was a progress. On the other hand, he absolutely couldn’t allow Aerie to recognize him, or she would go for his throat at once, and definitely destroy his cover as well. 

_Well, I’ve always been good with disguises. Time to find out just how good I am, I suppose, and that birthday present from Poppy really ought to help. Frankly, I don’t think even Edwin would recognize me. No, hold that thought. Edwin has never been good at that sort of thing. But since I can hardly recognize myself, it ought to work._

At least the Avariel had played into his hands to a certain extent. He had learnt that she would be attending a certain masquerade ball, courtesy of one Lady Jysstev. That meant she would be surrounded by people she hadn’t met before, in various states of fancy dress no less, and it should be easier to fool her into thinking he was just another one. _And then the really fun part begins, I suppose. Chatting and having drinks with a Loviatar priestess who would like nothing better than to serve my intestines to me on cocktail sticks – does an evening out get any better than that?_

With an ironic grimace the assassin looked in the mirror again, checking on the disguise. Yes, it really ought to work. And hopefully, once this matter with Aerie was out of the way, he would also be able to continue the search for Edwin. Since the wizard’s trail seemed to have gone cold, perhaps it would be better to ask around for Zaerini, and try to determine if Edwin was still with her. _Yes, that’s what I’ll do. Right after this bloody party is over and done with. Until that’s settled, I don’t need the danger of any distraction at all._

-*-

And in Lord Logum Eckel’s house, Aerie was trying on the dress she intended to wear for Lady Jysstev’s masquerade ball. A very nice one it was, and it would create just the right impression. Innocent, yet confident. Pure and virginal, yet insanely appealing. _Perfect. The young nobles who don’t already worship the ground I walk on will do so after this party. The Hidden should be very pleased, and impressed with my skills, and quite ready for my offer. And then it will be high time to make my move._ Aerie smiled, and looked at herself in the mirror. Perfectly brushed golden curls. Perfectly pure blue eyes. Perfectly delicate blush in the cheeks. Perfect dress, exactly the kind she needed for her costume. Yes, now she was quite ready for the party. And then…then she would be ready for her revenge. 

-*-

This was it. Edwina straightened her back, adjusted the red rose that had been braided into her elegantly styled hair, and took a deep breath. The carriage was pulling up to the Jysstev Estate, and in a few moments, she would go outside, and she would play her part. Perfectly, of course. That went without saying. The wizard reached into the small red silk purse she was carrying, searching for the mirror she had brought along. She wanted to check on her makeup one final time. True, she was wearing a mask, but she wanted to be perfect underneath it. She was supposed to be a highborn lady, and she couldn’t afford to let the smallest detail slip, not unless she wanted to attract unwanted and dangerous attention. 

_The Avariel is cunning, I have to give her that. No match for my peerless intellect of course, or for my magic. The last time I was just a child, but surely by now I will be able to match her._ Of course…there was the uncomfortable detail that even her beloved teacher had met with some difficulty when last they had encountered the Loviatar priestess. And if even Dekaras had found her dangerous, then the threat wasn’t to be taken lightly. _But I’m sure he could have dealt with her easily if only she…hadn’t taken me hostage._ The wizard shivered briefly at a sudden memory. Pain, terrible pain, and tinkling laughter next to her ear, sounding like falling ice-cubes. For a while death had seemed certain, and not just for her. _And this time Teacher Dekaras won’t be there to help me either. But I can do it. Yes. I’m sure of it. Not that it will ever come to a fight in this place, I will simply be too subtle and devious for the flittering bird and completely deceive her, like the excellent secret agent I am._

Edwina nodded to herself, and pulled the mirror out, nudging something furry as she did so. _Insufferable, you will be on your best behavior tonight or no nuts for a week._

_Sure, sure, Boss!_ The little monkey sounded unsuitable cheery. _Say, this is going to be so much fun! I love parties! And this costume is great too!_

_Yes, yes, whatever you say. Just don’t cause any scenes. Pay attention to me and follow my lead, and be discreet, diplomatic and stealthy all the time, just like me._

_Sure thing, Boss! I’ll be the Stealth Monkey, just you watch me!_

_Hmmm…very well. I will believe you for now. Now hold this mirror, would you? I need to prepare._

With her familiar sitting on her lap, holding the mirror up for her inspection, Edwina looked herself over. She was wearing a regular dress, not mage robes, in order to blend in better. It was a bright and flamboyant red though, just the perfect nuance, and covered with glittering embroidered golden hearts. The skirts were wide, the neckline deep, and the fit showed her off in a highly satisfactory way. _Female I may still be, but at least I will be the most bedazzling one at the ball._ She was wearing her amulet of course, but had tucked it into her bodice just in case Aerie would recognize it, and was also wearing some of the more valuable jewels that the party had found during their recent adventures, with a heavy emphasis on gold and rubies. Pity that Zaerini insisted that they had to be sold tomorrow in order to help finance Imoen’s rescue – they sparkled so beautifully. Edwina’s hair had been nicely tamed into a more refined coiffure than her regular wild black mane, but a few strands had been deliberately left out and curled towards her neck, drawing clever attention to the exposed bits of her flesh. Her nails were newly manicured, and painted the same red color as her dress, and the makeup was impeccable. Of course, she was wearing a small red mask surrounded by gold trim, so the only part of her face readily visible was her mouth, but still… 

_What’re you supposed to be again, Boss?_ Insufferable curiously asked. 

_‘Passion’. What else could I possibly be?_

_Oh, so you’re ‘Mating’ then? Fits, what with all the noise you make when you…_

_Oh, just drop it! Clearly you have no understanding of symbolism at all. Let’s go._

Edwina rapped on the roof of the rented coach, signaling the driver to let her out. As the man pulled the door open and deferentially stood aside, the wizard swept out of the carriage, her head held high. “Step aside more swiftly, peasant!” she told the man, and haughtily glided past him up the path towards the door. Well there, she produced the invitation and showed it to the servant manning the door, a skinny old man who looked as if he might break in two in a heavy wind. And then she was finally inside, and ready to party. 

The Jysstev Estate was a fairly elegant place, Edwina had to admit, if nowhere near to even approaching the splendor and magnificence of her own home. Still, the polished floors, the roof paintings of dancing grape-waving cherubs and dewy-eyed deer, the glittering chandeliers and soft carpets all were a welcome change to life on the road and made her feel right at home. She had made certain to make a grand entrance, as befitted somebody of her stature, and now she was strolling about the place with a crystal glass of sparkling wine, feeling quite pleased. The nobles and wealthy merchants present were of differing ages, though it seemed as if quite a large number of them were young men. The Lady Jysstev herself was hovering nervously at the side of an elderly priest of Lathander, whose fluffy white hair, kind and wrinkled face and gleaming little half-moon spectacles looked pretty odd above the atrocious pink and gold robe he was wearing. The old man smiled at the fretful woman and patted her reassuringly on the arm. Edwina shrugged. Some people simply didn’t have what it took to manage a party successfully. Now, her own mother would really be in her element in Lady Jysstev’s place and enjoying any social or political maneuvering that took place. 

_But never mind that. The Hidden is my business._ She had been instructed to approach the head butler, and pass a certain message on to him, and then she would be introduced to her mysterious contact. 

“Another drink, ma’am?” Edwina startled a little at the sudden appearance of a servant at her elbow. She could have sworn the man had materialized out of thin air. He was a tall fellow, wearing the same hideous pink and purple livery that all the Jysstev servants wore. It clashed horribly with his butter-cup yellow curls, making Edwina’s eyes hurt whenever she looked at it. She didn’t much like the ironic glance he gave her empty glass either. It wasn’t as if she had emptied it that quickly. 

“Do you see any liquid contained within the glassy prison of this inferior goblet, you color-blind simian?” Edwina sneered, sticking her nose into the air. “No? Then the answer to your question should be evident, even to a lowly menial such as yourself. And be quick about it, or your mistress will learn of your lazy and insolent attitude.” 

Again, that annoying little sideways look that didn’t quite match the outwardly deferential attitude. “Of course, ma’am,” the servant said, and quickly refilled her glass. “I will keep it in mind.” He bowed, and melted into the thick crowd, leaving a highly annoyed wizard behind. Only once he had left did she realize that she’d forgotten to ask what the head butler looked like, and where he might be found. She reassured herself rapidly however, deciding that the night was still very young. There would be plenty of time, and in the meantime, there was this extremely tasty wine, and there was a table with delicious little miniature tidbits on sticks, just waiting for a hungry and suffering mage. Edwina headed for it, passing people dressed up in various colorful costumes on the way. A troll…an armed knight…a mermaid…a supposed elf with extremely fake-looking pointed ears…not to mention all the people who were wearing more normal finery completed by masks like her own. And there…yes, there she was. Edwina forced herself to keep walking without changing her pace and tried not to glare daggers at Aerie. The Avariel was waltzing about with a very gormless looking nobleman who seemed about as intelligent as foot fungus, but far more pompous. She looked just like Edwina remembered her too. There was the glittering golden hair, the wide and deceptively innocent blue eyes and the tremulous little smile. Aerie was wearing a pure white gown, composed of so much frothy lace that it reminded Edwina of a wedding cake, and she had strapped actual fake wings onto her back, covered with real feathers. Edwina had no idea what the Loviatar priestess was pretending to be, but she wouldn’t be at all surprised if those feathers had been ripped out of the wings of other Avariel. It would be exactly Aerie’s style. 

Deliberately turning her back to the enemy, Edwina busied herself with nibbling on a tiny sausage that had been impaled on a toothpick along with two plump olives. It was actually quite tasty, although she still couldn’t feel exactly comfortable. At least Aerie didn’t seem to be paying any attention to her whatsoever. The Avariel was laughing at something her dancing partner had just said, seemingly completely preoccupied. All the same, Edwina decided that she had better find the head butler very quickly before the pain-loving elf got it into her head that she wanted to mingle. 

The wizard sipped her drink again, and absent-mindedly licked her lower lip in order to catch a few errant drops of the precious liquid. Then she returned her attention to the sausage, only to get the uncomfortable sensation that she was being watched. _The Avariel? If she attempts an assault I’ll make her fly without wings, straight through the roof on a column of flame._ She looked about the room. No, Aerie didn’t seem to be paying attention to her. Who then? The old and stern-faced woman at the next table, with a nose like a battle-axe and the demeanor of somebody used to wielding battle-axes? The man with the ridiculous fake elf ears, who was lounging against a wall, seemingly drunk out of his skull? He was trying and failing to juggle wineglasses, and there were quite a few shards of glass on the floor already. Edwina hoped he’d move on to swords, and when he winked at her she gave him a withering look. Perhaps the troll? That rubber mask could hide anybody. She beckoned imperiously for the servant, and this time she made sure to take two glasses at once. Really excellent wine. Very sparkly, nice and ticklish. 

“Hrrrmm…” Edwina turned about at the sound of somebody clearing his throat directly behind her and was surprised to see nobody. Then she looked down. And down. And down. There was a halfling standing behind her, a plump, sweaty and red-faced one. He seemed fairly young, despite the fact that his hair was already thinning remarkably. What remained of it had the general shape and smell of a brush used for cleaning commodes. Whoever had sold him his hair oil must have had a very nasty sense of humor. Probably the same person who had convinced him that he’d look dashing in a very small and leopard-skin patterned loincloth, and a balsa-wood sword as tall as he was. Not to mention the object hanging around his neck, that resembled the pelvis bone of some kind of small rodent. And what in the world was that she could see hanging out of his loincloth, drooping towards the floor. A sock? “’Lo, wench! What be thy name?” the halfling said. For some strange reason, Edwina’s brain wanted to replace the simple verb with ‘he ejaculated’ and only a wild bout of nausea made her halt herself. 

“And just who are you, you disgusting little maggot?” she said. 

The halfling puffed himself up until he looked fit to burst. “Why honey-bunny, you mean you don’t know? This is my portrayal of the mighty and rugged hero Gruntir the Barbarian, straight from my next Play of Passion, aptly named ‘The Heroic Adventures of Gruntir the Barbarian and the Hyacinth-Tressed, Firmly-Bosomed Wench’.” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “We all know what the audience loves, don’t we, darling?” Then he laughed, hard enough to make his protruding belly wobble like a mound of jelly. “And I am of course Ashley Parsley!” He waited expectantly with a triumphant smile plastered all over his face. In the absence of screams of adulation, it eventually turned into a sour grimace. “You know…Ashley Parsley? The Stage Sage? I’m only the greatest playwright in the history of Athkatla, with hordes of frantically drooling, screaming, fainting fans who follow me everywhere!” He made a few gyrating movements with his hips, causing the bodily equivalent of an earthquake. “That’s ‘cause I’m just a hunk…a hunk…a hunk of BURNING LOVE!” He pushed his lower lip out in what was probably meant to be a charming smile. In reality, it made him look like he was breaking wind. “Oh yeah, baby…you will soon find out all about who The Sage Sage is.” 

Edwina raised her eyebrow. “I would say he is a revolting little turd whose looks, intelligence and charm would be vastly improved by being gutted, soaked in brine, and then left in a pickling jar for a few years. Oh yes - you seem to have misplaced those hordes of yours for the moment. Unless you were counting your own body lice?” 

_That’s telling him, Boss!_ Insufferable commented. _He clearly knows nothing about courting…he should have flashed you his bottom instead._

_Suffy, do not send me mental images like that! Do you want me to throw up in my purse?_

_But Boss…I’m in your purse._

_I know that, Insufferable. Believe me, I know._

During Edwina’s little speech, Parsley’s face had first turned a bright red, and then acquired pasty white splotches. It was puffed up with rage. “You…you…away with you, serpentine slut! By the surly beard of Mrifk, never have I been so insulted! How Lady Jysstev, a true Patron of the Arts and a lady of impeccable taste could invite such a baffling wanton I really don’t know! I was planning to offer you a part in my new play, but you are clearly a warped wench in every way, corrupted by greasy gibberish!” He took a deep breath. “And…and your nose isn’t nearly opaque enough anyway!” With that he made a small squeal of fury, and stalked off through the crowd, drawing many amused glances and the occasional snicker. 

“Another drink, ma’am? You look as if it might do you good.” This time the yellow-haired servant seemed almost sympathetic, but for the tiny smirk on his face. Edwina scowled at him, but she took another glass off the tray. She could probably use it; she hadn’t even noticed that she’d drained the previous one. As the man moved away, she felt that increasing sense of unease again. There definitely was somebody watching her, but who? And more importantly, why? 

_Hey Boss! Looks like you’re not the only one being pestered, eh?_

Edwina turned to see what her familiar meant. Parsley had moved on to another woman standing close by. She was of indeterminate age, in her forties perhaps, tall and slender. Something about the nonchalantly confident way she carried herself made Edwina feel a sudden brief stab of jealousy. It shouldn’t be possible to handle plate, glass, cutlery, an elegant fan and a napkin while standing, and still manage to look relaxed. Good cheekbones too, although Edwina couldn’t see much else of the other woman’s face, since it was partially obscured by a sweeping curtain of shining black hair. The woman was wearing what Edwina recognized as conventional Amnian mourning dress, except it had been…enhanced. The traditional deep black dress had acquired fuller skirts, and although its neckline was modest, the way it showed off the woman’s pale back definitely wasn’t. The thin black veil that she wore on her head didn’t really offer much in the way of extra coverage and the way that the dress clung to the woman’s hips was also rather unusual for the regular widow. A few young Amnian noblemen had apparently caught onto this fact and were prancing about her feet like bouncing puppies. From what Edwina could see, she seemed to be ignoring them, except for the occasional brief remark, something that only enticed them more. 

Parsley approached the woman, and although Edwina couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying she could see the all too familiar leer being trotted out again, and WHAT IN THE WORLD WAS HE DOING WITH THAT RODENT PELVIS BONE? 

The woman stood motionless for a few seconds, as if deep in thought. Then she put her plate, glass and cutlery down on a table, bent forward and whispered something into the halfling’s ear, while her black-gloved hand came to rest gently on his shoulder, the fingertips almost but not quite caressing his throat. Parsley didn’t flush this time. Instead, he turned a sickly yellow, and looked ready to seriously ruin his loincloth. Then he took a few hasty steps backwards, turned, and ran away as fast as his legs could carry him, leaving only a fallen sock behind on the floor. Edwina would have been happy to pay a thousand gold to learn what he had heard. 

“Annoying little slug, wasn’t he?” Edwina hadn’t noticed the woman approaching her, but there she was, looking as calm as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. Now that Edwina could see her face, she could tell that she wasn’t classically beautiful as such, but definitely alluring. Poised might be the best word for it, and suddenly the wizard felt like a little girl having borrowed her mother’s clothes. 

“Just one of the infinite numbers of inbred barbarians frequenting this pitiful little collection of hovels that the local yokels call a ‘city’,” she said and took yet another sip from her drink. This diplomacy business was very fun, now that she’d got used to it, and not at all as difficult as some people would make it out to be. 

“Hmmm…” the woman in black said, quirking an eyebrow upwards with a slightly amused look on her face. “You might want to be more careful about whom you say such things to. After all, you do not know me, do you? I could be anybody.” 

“Ha, such as who?” Edwina scoffed. “A…a vampire perhaps?” 

The woman didn’t smile. “If I were, I would hardly introduce myself as such, now would I? You seem a reasonably bright girl, so just think about it. I would not enjoy seeing you come to harm.” 

Edwina blinked briefly. For a moment there…there had been something…but she couldn’t remember what it was. Something about the other woman, something that was somehow…odd? “I can take care of myself,” she proudly said, made bold by the wine. Well, bolder. Very tasty it was, and it went down so swiftly…her glass was almost empty again. How many glasses had she drunk anyway? As if by magic, the nice young servant with the yellow hair turned up to refill it again, but a dismissive wave from the woman in black chased him off. Edwina was just about to protest against this, but it was getting harder and harder to find the right words and it just came out as ‘Wanna ‘nother one!” 

“Oh, of _course_ you can,” the older woman said. “I can only think of a single other person more capable in that regard…and since he’s not here, I’ll have to nominate you as today’s winner.”

“I can too! I’m not juscht…not juscht any woman you know!” Edwina smiled drunkenly at her dear new friend. Her legs were feeling very wobbly by now, and she clung to the other woman for support. “I’m really a Great Wizard you know,” she whispered. “But don’t tell anybody…it’s sche-schecret! Muschn’t let all the schimians know…very schecret! Scho many schimians everywhere…” 

Suddenly the other woman’s body stiffened, becoming as tense as a coiled spring, and before Edwina had a chance to protest she found herself bodily pulled along until they had emerged into the garden, her arm discreetly twisted up behind her back in a way that propelled her rapidly along while making her quite unable to speak out. There were some revelers here too, and laughter could now and then be heard from the bushes. Gaudy paper lanterns gleamed in all the colors of the rainbow, but deeper within the garden there was darkness and privacy for those who sought it. The woman in black led Edwina rapidly into a small gazebo, all the while checking that nobody else was around, and then she spun the wizard around, holding her arms in a firm grip. She didn’t look hostile though, more…stunned? “Edwin?” she said, and it came out as a hoarse whisper. “Is that you?” 

And suddenly it all came together. Edwina stared into the dark eyes of her assailant, suddenly feeling as if her stomach had dropped out of her body and was lying in a puddle around her feet. “T-Teacher Dekarasch?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The masquerade ball is a part of the story I really enjoyed writing, with all the intrigue, and of course the long awaited reunion.


	85. Negotiation and Explanation

**Cards Reshuffled 85 – Negotiation and Explanation**

_General advice on child rearing: Be firm when necessary but caring at the same time. Always carry spare handkerchiefs, because it is truly amazing how huge volumes of snot a regular child can produce in just an hour. Let the child run about, even when you want nothing more than to carry it everywhere for safety’s sake. And when it makes mischief, make certain it knows you will always forgive it afterwards as long as it is genuinely sorry. Well, after a few choice words, that is._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

Edwina felt lost in a sea of swirling and conflicting emotions. More than anything, she was overjoyed to see her teacher alive and well, as she had wished for so long. But there remained the dark shadow of Icewind Dale between them, and her insides twisted up with fear of what Dekaras was going to have to say about that. Then there was the added embarrassment of encountering her mentor while in her cursed female state, not to mention while drunk. And to really top things off, there was a feeling of stunning confusion at just what Dekaras was doing in this particular place and time and transformed into a woman at that. 

That last bit still made Edwina’s mind reel whenever she tried to think about it. Now that she knew who was in front of her, she supposed she could recognize a hint of the assassin’s regular features, but otherwise she would never have guessed. Her lower jaw kept wanting to descend to knee-level, and she knew she was staring. Her tongue seemed to have grown to the size of a foot. _I can’t believe it really is him…please don’t hate me, pleasepleasepleaseplease…_

“Edwin…” Dekaras said, sounding almost as unbelieving as Edwina herself felt. “It really is you…but why are you here?” Edwina squirmed a little uncomfortably in her teacher’s grasp. She recognized that look, it was the one usually reserved for such memorable occasions as the time when she had inadvertently set fire to her own robes while practicing the Burning Hands spell, or that highly embarrassing time when she had tattooed her scalp. “Have you no idea how much danger you are in?” Dekaras hissed. “Didn’t you see her inside?”

“Oh…the Avariel? But I’m not here to schee _her!_ ”

“And you think she will care about that if she should happen to recognize you?” The assassin sighed briefly. “Never mind…we cannot speak of it further in this place.” Black eyes glittered dangerously. “And we have such a lot to speak about, as I’m sure you already know. Unfortunately, there is something I absolutely have to attend to first.”

“Me too…I’m on an important mischioon too! Very schecret! Very diplomatic!” 

Dekaras didn’t reply to this directly, but a single raised eyebrow spoke volumes about her views on Edwina’s diplomatic skills. “Of course you are,” the assassin said, and then handed Edwina a small bottle. “Here, drink this.” 

“What isch it?”

“Just drink it, Edwin. Don’t argue with me.” 

The liquid tasted like almonds and lemons, and it made Edwina feel as if her entire mouth had shriveled up like a withered leaf. Afterwards however, there was a marked decrease in the foggy feeling in her brain. She gingerly felt her head, surprised that it no longer felt stuffed with cotton wool. 

“Antidote potion,” Dekaras laconically said. “At least by now you should be able to carry out your diplomatic mission in a standing position, and without risk of throwing up or falling asleep.” A brief smile. “Just be careful, and I will see you afterwards. Do you know the Mithrest Inn? Yes? Go there when you are done, I expect to be there no later than midnight and will meet you there. And whatever you do, don’t go near the Avariel.” The smile gained a little more edge. “That is _my_ job.” 

“You are here to kill her?” Edwina hopefully asked. 

“Unfortunately, no, only to speak with her. I will explain later, I promise.” The assassin took a step backwards, face partially obscured by the shadows. “The Mithrest Inn it is then. And Edwin? Do try not to be late, would you? You know I don’t particularly enjoy being kept waiting…” 

_I know…_ Edwina thought. _And I’m sorry…I just hope I can explain why I did what I did, and that you’ll forgive me. I couldn’t bear it if you didn’t._ “Be careful,” she whispered at the now empty shadows. “Just…please be careful.” 

-*- 

Aerie was more than pleased. Everything had fallen neatly into place, just as she had planned. Satisfied with ‘his’ transformation of her into a ‘still innocent but more confident woman’, Lord Logum Eckel completely doted on her, especially since he had won his bet with a friend about how she would do him proud in Society. His friends did as he did, and so she now had a fairly large cadre of young, rich and foolish noblemen eating out of the palm of her hand. And even better, now she had gained an even more useful ally. 

_You are not without skill_ , The Hidden whispered inside her mind, even while his mouth spoke pleasant nothings. _Even without psionic powers, you have managed to twist these lesser minds into convenient shapes. Interesting. But tell me now; what do I stand to gain from this…alliance of yours?_

“Oh yes!” Aerie told him out loud, smiling brightly. “I…I think charities are so important…helping suffering people everywhere. And I really love Lathander, I think the colors of sunrise are so very pretty…all gold and pink.” _Power to be added to yours, and knowledge as well. You can read minds, but I know and understand how these people think, and how the society works. I can easily find out which people are important key figures, who to influence and in what way, who to eliminate, who to replace. You would have to put in an effort to gain the same result. My aid will mean you need waste no time, and unless I am mistaken you have no time to waste._

“You are truly blessed by the dawn, child! Rarely have I met one so kind and true.” _And just what do you mean by that, cattle?_

Aerie smiled, fluttering her eyelashes. “That…that is so very kind of you to say. I like to think that I’ve made a difference in at least some people’s lives.” _What I mean, squid, is that your Ancient Enemies, the Githyanki, are in Athkatla. I have learnt this only recently, but I am certain of it. They will be hunting for you, you know that. So no, you really don’t want to waste time. Nor would you want them to…accidentally find out where you are hiding. Now tell me, do we have a bargain or not?_

“And I dare say you have, my child…I dare say you have.” The old priest’s face crinkled into a kind smile, and only Aerie was close enough to see the malevolent glitter in his eyes. _Very well, Priestess of Loviatar. It shall be as you wish. In return for your insight, and your aid when I require it, I shall give you mine. I will bind your thralls so firmly to you that you need waste no time on magic or sweet words anymore. They will be completely within your power, as will all others whom you bring to me for…adjustment._ The Hidden turned to receive a small note from one of the servants who came walking up to him. _Ah…it seems another matter requires my attention. We will meet at the time and place we discussed earlier, and the bargain will be carried out in full. Does this please you?_

“Thank you, your Holiness!” Aerie said, reaching up on tiptoes to lightly kiss the old man’s wrinkled cheek. “I cannot begin to tell you how pleased I am to hear that…” 

-*-

Pleased with herself, Aerie watched the Hidden depart, heading for a young woman in a red and rather gaudy dress. The Avariel allowed herself a brief smile as she thought of just how she would be able to use the powers of her new ally. As soon as possible she would bring her thralls to him, and then she would be ready to move. She could almost hear the sweet screams of her foes already; almost taste the blood on the tip of her pink tongue. 

“It is rather hot in here, is it not? I personally am not much for parties, but they do have their uses.” Aerie turned around at the sound of the voice, to see a tall human woman watching her closely from behind a thin black veil. The dress was black as well, resembling mourning attire until you gave it a closer look and noticed that it really wasn’t modest enough for that. It was hard to see the woman’s face properly, but she seemed to be smiling slightly.

“Oh…” Aerie said, playing for time since she didn’t recognize the woman and wanted to probe a bit before deciding on how to deal with her. Probably this was some acquaintance of Lady Jysstev. “I see…you are in mourning, lady…?” She left the question hanging in the air. 

“Now, now,” the other woman said. “It isn’t time for ‘masks off’ yet, now is it? But I assure you, this is but a costume. ‘The Merry Widow’ the man in the shop called it…a bit gloomy, but he insisted that it suited me. And you would be?”

“Purity,” Aerie said, indicating her pristine white dress and fluffy fake wings. _Such as the purity of my faith in my Mistress…or the purity of lovely pain inflicted on others. But no need to mention that little detail, I am certain._

“Ah,” the other woman said, nodding. “I should have guessed. But then again, I am here on business, not for pleasure.” Her face behind the black veil was impassive, guarded. “I would like to have words with you, on a private matter, and on somebody else’s behalf. Will you consent to this?” 

Aerie pursed her lips briefly. What new intrigue this might be she didn’t know, but not finding out would almost certainly be a big mistake. However, she had no intention of throwing caution to the winds. “Oh…I suppose I could do that,” she said in her most demure voice. “Though…though I do not know why anybody would think I could be of use to them.”

The other woman gave a minute shrug. “That is not for me to determine,” she said. “Regardless, somebody does think so. If you will grant me a private interview, I will provide you with what details I can.” 

“I will,” Aerie said, and thoughtfully wound a strand of golden hair around her fingers, making the motion obscure the small movement her other hand was making. She was intrigued, but she was no fool, and there was something vaguely unsettling about this stranger. Still, as the spell of True Sight took hold, the woman remained as she was, looking exactly the same. No illusions then, she clearly was what she appeared to be. Now it remained to determine exactly what that was. “Come then…and let us talk.” 

-*- 

Meanwhile, the Hidden was granting an interview of his own. Of course, the Hidden wasn’t exactly his real name, the real one would have been impossible for anybody not of his own species to pronounce. Since leaving his home he had encountered quite a few of the cattle who roamed the surface world, and most of them were very dull and uninteresting, inferior to even the youngest and most immature of tadpoles. The Aerie creature had interested him though, with the many complex layers of her mind, a mind bright and brittle like shards of glass, reflecting only what she wanted others to see. And this other young woman interested him as well…for one thing; her mind did not match her body properly. She was chafing within her own flesh, rubbed raw by it. Even more interesting, she knew this other woman, this Aerie, and as she was less skilled about warding her mind than the Avariel, the Hidden was able to pick up some undercurrents of thought without the wizard even noticing. _Yes, very interesting._

“So, you wish aid in curing an unfortunate little girl?” he asked, still keeping up the pretense of being a kindly old priest. “Of course, I shall do whatever I can, but it requires a few things.” _Go to the Sea’s Bounty Inn_ , he sent. _Tell the proprietor that you are ‘a Seeker’. He is an agent of mine, and he will be given orders to pass on to you. Do what he tells you, and I will cure the girl._ This could prove very beneficial indeed. If his agents could locate the Githyanki that Aerie had hinted were after him, and if this young adventurer and her companions could dispose of them for him…then the Avariel would have no further hold on him. And then he would be only too pleased to deal with her.

“Of course,” the young woman said with an impatient toss of her head. “Doesn’t it always? But whatever you require, I will be able to easily arrange.” _How do I know you will keep your end of the bargain? Be warned, if you attempt to trick me, I will make certain that your face is ‘hidden’ up your own backside._

“Ah, always such a joy to converse with polite and well-bred young people. I will see you later then, and we will come to an agreement I am certain.” _There are no guarantees. Do it or not, as you will. But if you do not, that little girl of yours is certain to die. It is your choice._

The young woman hesitated for an instant, but then she nodded. “Of course,” she said. “I will give this matter some thought.” _Very well, deceiver. I know not what exactly you are, but I will carry your words with me. You will be informed later, should we choose to accept your terms. And know that any attempt at betrayal will earn you the displeasure of me, the greatest wizard to ever walk the face of Faerun. Once I am done with you, you will be ready to be buried in a thimble._

_Ah_ , The Hidden mused. _It is so good to see how other races practice diplomacy. Very…educational._

-*- 

Once she had finished her conversation with The Hidden Edwina decided that it was time she left the Jysstev estate behind. She had done what she’d come to do, she didn’t think it would be a good idea to hang around Aerie any longer than necessary, and…she had an appointment to keep. It wasn’t quite midnight yet, but it would be soon enough. The wizard nervously bit her lower lip at that thought. Overjoyed as she had been to see her teacher again, she also felt paralyzed with dread when she thought about trying to explain her past actions. _He has to understand why I did what I did. He…just has to._ And then there was the matter of her Nether Scroll transformation – Dekaras might not have mentioned it so far, but there hadn’t really been time to bring the subject up just yet, what with how rushed they’d been. 

_Don’t worry, Boss_ , Insufferable tried to reassure her as she edged her way past a large crowd of laughing party goers. _I’m sure he wouldn’t laugh at you._

_That’s not what I’m afraid of. I’m afraid…that…_

_That what?_

But Edwina didn’t answer. This was because her heel had accidentally become entangled in the hem of her dress. She stumbled, arms flailing, and only just managed to avoid falling flat on her face. However, the sudden shock made her forget herself. A colorful string of curses escaped her lips, and since the music had just stopped, they were very audible to anybody in the room. Only when she felt a prickling sensation at the base of her neck and turned around to see a pair of icy blue eyes watching her did she realize that the words she had used had been in Thayvian. Of course, by then it was far too late to take them back. Aerie was standing near the middle of the room, her delicate hand resting on the arm of her dance partner, a skinny yet brutish looking young man with a very dull face. The false wings on the Avariel’s back seemed to be quivering with rage, and her lips were pressed tightly together. Then those lips parted, and Edwina could see them forming a single word. _Odesseiron._

That settled it as far as Edwina was concerned. While she would have adored setting the elf’s wings ablaze with a well-aimed spell or two, this was not a good place for a battle. Not here, where the Avariel was sure to have more than one ally. Not here, where there was a high risk of the Cowled Wizards being called in. So, not an open fight then. Something else, something that would increase her chances of getting away. Then, it came to her. Grinning, Edwina reached for the buffet table standing right next to her, and most specifically for the enormous swan crafted out of butter. She didn’t even have to throw very hard for the thing to skid across the polished ballroom floor as easily as it would have in a hot frying pan, and as soon as the slowly melting bird had landed, Edwina finished an incantation. The swan instantly melted, coating the entire floor with a thick layer of slippery grease. 

“Stop her!” Aerie screamed, and then the Avariel’s eyes went very wide as she slipped on the grease, landing heavily on her back, her massive petticoats foaming around her. “Eeeeeeek!” she screamed. “Nasty…icky…stop her, somebody stop her! Oh, help! Will nobody help defend me?” 

Edwina didn’t pause to see what happened. Quite a large number of guests were floundering around on the greasy floor, falling, slipping, trying to get to their feet again or helplessly clinging to each other. However, some would be bound to escape the spell and come after her soon enough. And now she could feel something else, a wordless roar of rage in the air. 

_Run Boss!_ Insufferable sounded quite frantic from his hiding place within Edwina’s purse. _She’s casting a spell, trying to stir them up! If they catch you, they’ll tear you to pieces!_

Edwina ran, as fast as she could. She had already lost one shoe when she tripped, and now she kicked the other one off to be able to move faster, trying to gather her skirts up. Panting frantically, she charged down the broad staircase leading down to the entry hall of the Jysstev Estate, just as she could hear the large clock on top of the Council Building strike midnight. _Such an undignified way to leave a party – but I prevailed at least. Ha! That Avariel will really be grinding her teeth now!_

“You stop now! Lady Aerie says so!” Edwina managed a hurried glance across her shoulder, only to see Aerie’s latest dancing partner charge after her down the stairs. He reminded her a bit of a shrimp, being very skinny and oddly scarecrow like despite his evening finery. “I’m a big warrior you know!” he cried out. “And you’re just a girl, you don’t have a chance against me.” 

“Oh really?” Edwina retorted. “What were you planning to do, ram yourself down my throat and choke me to death?” She was looking about frantically for the coach that had taken her to the party. By now she should have been able to see it through the windows. _Where is the accursed thing? I’ll hang that coachman up by his thumbs if he doesn’t appear soon! How dare he delay when I’ve specifically ordered him to…_ And then she remembered. She had forgotten to alert the coachman that she was about to depart, and the man would still be in the Jysstev servant quarters, probably having a ball of a time and completely ignorant of the peril she was in. For peril it was. The fool in front of her might not look very dangerous himself, but now four armed guards appeared behind him, and they were all big and strong looking, as well as armed with very sharp swords. 

“Ha!” the young noble said. “You’d better give up now, little girl. I’m Fedric Eckel, and I’ll kill you easily, ‘cause I’m not scared of any wimpy wizard powers!”

_Oh no? But maybe you should be…_ Edwina raised her arms, and she could feel the magic gathering at her will. A chill wind suddenly howled through the hallway, and now there were thick gray clouds gathering near the ceiling, swirling rapidly. Within seconds, large hailstones were assaulting her pursuers, even while a blinding rain of sleet ensured that they were effectively blinded. One of the men screamed and fell, with a dent in his helmet the size of a large egg. There was blood trickling from his ears. The others retreated up the stairs.

“You…you bitch!” Fedric Eckel screamed, stumbling after her, and Edwina froze in place as she suddenly saw a crossbow pointing straight at her. They were outside now, and without her coach she was a sitting duck with no way to take cover. “Not so tough now, wizard?” the young nobleman said, smirking. “I knew it! You wizards are nothing but big sissies, but I…” 

There was a small and wet sound; as of a pencil suddenly impaling a ripe orange, and then Fedric Eckel slumped to the ground, his low brow contorting with bafflement. There was something small stuck in it, Edwina noticed, and the surrounding skin was already turning black. “You…bitch…” he groaned, and then his eyes rolled up into his head and he breathed no more. Edwina spun around, just in time to see Dekaras calmly fold up the fan she had noticed the assassin using earlier that evening. There was an empty space now where one of the small spikes that the fan’s spokes ended in had been. The assassin was standing next to a coach, not Edwina’s own but another, a rental one it seemed. Her teacher was still in that disconcerting female form but didn’t seem bothered by that fact at all. 

“I suggest you hurry up,” Dekaras tersely said, and then climbed into the coach before reaching out a hand to help pull Edwina inside. “This is not a good place for either of us to be at the moment.” 

Edwina didn’t feel inclined to argue at all. She let herself be stuffed into the coach and had hardly landed on a seat before the door slammed shut behind her. Just as the coachman’s whip snapped through the air and the team pulled out, Edwina thought she could hear something else, a faint scream of rage. She shivered briefly, and then let herself collapse against the cool leather of the seat; her eyes closed. She was safe, for now. 

The trip didn’t take very long, it was shorter than Edwina would have liked as a matter of fact. Her teacher hadn’t said much on the way, warning her that the coachman might overhear them, but she knew that the conversation had only been put off temporarily. Much as she had longed for it, she dreaded it as well. And now she was sitting on the bed of a fairly nice room at the Mithrest Inn, lit only by a couple of flickering candles. She had pulled her legs up under her to try to warm her bare feet, and she was fiddling with the torn hem of her dress in order to try to keep her mind on something, anything other than her worry. It was a small room, but nice and clean. The bed was close by the wall, below a slanting roof, and there was room for a small table as well as a comfortable leather armchair. An oval carpet, deep blue in color, lay on the floor. From behind the dressing screen standing at the other side of the room Edwina could hear a faint rustle, and as she looked up, she saw a black dress nonchalantly tossed across it along with a matching belt. A couple of minutes later Dekaras appeared, looking entirely his normal self. The assassin leaned against the wall, his arms crossed across his chest, and gave her a considering look, his face quite unreadable. Edwina fidgeted some more, feeling suddenly very small, guilty and in need of wiping her nose. 

“Well now,” Dekaras said, his tone deceptively mild and conversational. “Here we both are, at long last. And just a few months late and a few hundred miles to the south of the spot where I had expected to meet you. I see that both your grasp on Geography and your timekeeping skills have improved vastly. Why, with a few more years of practice, perhaps I will even be able to trust you to find your own way to the privy without a map.” 

“Er…I was only…”

“Yes, I’m sure you were very busy doing something infinitely more important than keeping your word, such as getting screaming drunk, or mutilating yourself. What in the world possessed you to do _that_ to your nose? And kindly don’t tell me that ‘everybody else does it’, we went through that when it was tattoos you wanted, remember?” 

Edwina’s hands flew guiltily up to cover her nose. She’d almost forgotten about the nose ring. “I happen to think it looks very stylish, as a matter of fact,” she protested. 

Her teacher raised an eyebrow and leaned forward to give the chain connecting the nose ring to her ear a small tug. “Stylish,” he said. “I see. And when somebody gives it a good hard yank during a fight, and tears half your face off, I’m sure you’ll be very stylishly fleshless. A true fashion icon.” He shook his head briefly, looking a little annoyed. “Are you planning on removing that disguise of yours anytime soon, by the way? While I have to admit it is a good one, I would prefer to see your own face.” 

Edwina felt her eyes filling with unwanted tears, and she looked down, studying her dirty feet as if they were the most interesting things she had ever seen. “I…can’t,” she eventually managed to say, her voice small and almost inaudible. 

“Can’t?” Dekaras said, and now he sounded concerned. “What do you mean, ‘can’t’?” 

It was suddenly all too much. The shocks of the past evening, the tension inherent in meeting her mentor again, and now this painful reminder of her curse. A sob escaped the wizard’s lips, and she tried to hide her face in her hands. “What I…what I said,” she wailed. “I can’t, because I’m stuck this way, under a curse! I found one of the lost Nether Scrolls, just like…just like I always dreamed of, and I wanted to get more power, but it all went wrong! And now I can’t change myself back, and nobody else knows how to either, I’ve tried everything I can think of and nothing works and I’m so tired of looking like this…and I’ve made such a mess of things, and there’s a Red Wizard hunting me and…and you have to be so ashamed of me for making this bad a mistake.” She sobbed again, her entire back shaking. And then she suddenly felt the bed move slightly as the assassin sat down on it, right next to her. Before she knew it there was an arm about her shoulders, pulling her closer into a firm embrace. Edwina automatically shifted about a little until she was more or less sitting on her teacher’s lap, with her head buried against his chest. She was still crying, in a way she wouldn’t have wanted anybody else to see, but she didn’t care right now. She was home. 

“Oh Edwin,” Dekaras said, even as he stroked her hair soothingly with one hand. “Of course I’m not ashamed of you, no matter what you manage to turn yourself into. Anybody can make a mistake. We will simply have to do whatever we can to fix this one.” 

We. That simple word made Edwina draw a deep sigh of relief, even as her tears kept on flowing. She hadn’t realized exactly how much she had feared being abandoned. She hadn’t really believed that her teacher would turn his back on her, but she _had_ feared it. He had every reason to be angry with her, after all. “I’m…I’m sorry about lying to you before,” she said, her voice a little muffled. “I didn’t want to; I wouldn’t have done it if I’d been able to think of anything else to do.” 

“No?” Dekaras didn’t sound angry with her, exactly, but weary in a way that made her feel as if her heart had been ripped in two. “Then please explain to me why you did it, because it is something I should very much like to know.” 

Edwina straightened up a little, afraid to look the assassin in the face, but feeling that she ought to do it all the same. “There were two reasons, actually,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “I was…afraid for you. You had just been badly wounded, and I was frightened that you… might go after that wizard, Winski, all the same and get yourself killed. You weren’t exactly…er…reasonable about it.”

“I see,” Dekaras said, looking thoughtful. “And what was the other reason?”

A hot flush crept into Edwina’s cheeks and she fidgeted nervously. “Well…ah…you see…do you remember Zaerini?”

“Given that she was the entire object of your mission, it would be difficult not to,” the assassin dryly commented. “I’m not that far gone into my dotage, you know.” 

“Er…the thing is that she…that is I…we…” Her face felt as if it was on fire by now. “IfellinlovewithherandIloveheralot,morethanIeverlovedanyotherwoman,andIcouldn’tturnherovertoThay,andIwasafraidyou’dkillherinorderformenottogetintotroublewiththeRedWizardsandthatIwouldn’tbeabletoexplainhowmuchIloveher,becauseIreallyreallyloveherand…” She fell instantly silent as Dekaras raised his hand. 

“So, let me sum this up,” the assassin said, his black eyes glittering oddly. “You were trying to protect me against my explicit command, knowingly taking the risk of making me angry with you?”

“Um…yes.”

“And you also fell in love with your target, enough that you were willing to sacrifice all your other ambitions for her sake?”

“Yes…” 

“And you worry that I might get upset with you for telling me this, but you do it all the same?”

“Er…yes?”

Dekaras ruefully shook his head. “Really now, Edwin. For somebody of high intelligence you can be remarkably foolish at times. Not that I can blame you for it, really.” He took hold of her hands and held them tightly. “Yes, I was…upset…earlier. And I might have wished that you’d seen fit to tell me these things before, rather than concocting such an elaborate scheme to mislead me. But I understand why you did what you did, far better than you might think.” He smiled briefly at her, and for a moment Edwina felt as if the sun had come out to dry all remaining traces of her tears. “I am very proud of you; I want you to know that.” 

Edwina let her breath out. She hadn’t even realized that she’d been holding it. Then she smiled back at her teacher and gave him another fierce hug. Yes, she was still cursed, and there was danger all about, but now she could really believe that everything would eventually be all right somehow. “Thank you,” she whispered. “And that’s all the secrets I’ve kept, I promise.” 

Dekaras didn’t reply at once. He was looking across her shoulder at something, and when he did speak his voice sounded just a little strained. “Edwin?” he said. “Why is a miniature monkey dressed up in a pink ball gown sitting on my pillow?” 

_Insufferable I did not give you permission to get out of my purse!_ “Ooops,” Edwina admitted, feeling very sheepish. “All the secrets but one, I should have said.”


	86. The Case of the Drunkard’s Daughter

**Cards Reshuffled 86 – The Case of the Drunkard’s Daughter**

_One school of detectors believe in eliminating all the impossible solutions, until only one remains, which then must be the truth, no matter how improbable. Another school believes in bringing in all the usual suspects. The ideal combination would seem to be bringing in the unusual suspects at once, focusing on the hideously improbable ones until you find the one that’s almost but not quite impossible. That’ll be your man. Of course, getting the theory to work can be a bit tricky…_

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Well, that was singularly unhelpful,” Jaheira remarked, tossing her honey-colored braids across her shoulder in a dismissive gesture. 

Zaerini couldn’t help but agree. While Edwina was getting ready for the masquerade ball, the rest of the party had gone to see the Athkatla magistrate, Bylanna Ianulin, to learn what the authorities knew about Moira Delryn’s murder. Unfortunately, that turned out to be very little. It was Moira’s own father, Lord Cor, who had reported the crime, and it was he who had found her. When she didn’t bring him his breakfast as she normally would have done, he had gone searching for her, and eventually found her lying on the kitchen floor, close by the door. She had been repeatedly stabbed and judging by the state of the blood on the floor it had probably happened some hours earlier, during the night or early morning. There had been a bloody kitchen knife lying on top of the corpse, presumably the murder weapon, and a few plates been smashed against the stone floor. It looked as if the young woman had surprised a burglar, with tragic consequences, and that was the explanation the magistrate had eventually settled upon. After all, there was no other known motive. Moira Delryn had been a pretty girl, but she had been living the life of an almost recluse, devoting herself to looking after her drunkard of a father. Anomen had explained that he had urged her to leave, more than once, but that she had refused.

“When Moira had decided that something was the right thing to do, she would do it,” the cleric had explained. “Even if it meant sacrificing her own happiness. She…she was a truly good and virtuous girl, but always modest and unassuming about it. Only the vilest of villains would even think of harming such a bright spirit!” 

The magistrate had agreed that there was no obvious motive for killing Moira for her own sake. She was known to be a kind girl, who lived a quiet life. Most of her time she spent with her father, though she did sometimes visit a few friends that she had known before the decline of the House of Delryn that had come with Lord Cor’s worsening condition. Prominent among them was the Lady Maria, wife of Sir Keldorn, an almost legendary paladin of Torm and member of the Order of the Radiant Heart. Rini thought it would be a good idea to have a word with the woman later, just in case Moira had mentioned having any kind of current problem in her life, apart from the regular one of her father. Anomen agreed, stating that he could think of no more reliable witness than the lady wife of Sir Keldorn. He had always known her to be a both kind and honorable woman. 

Then the subject of the merchant Saerk had been brought up, and the magistrate had sighed, then explained that at Lord Cor’s insistence she had already made inquiries into the doings of the Calimshite. Saerk was a known enemy of Cor Delryn, but there was, she said, no firm evidence linking him to the murder, nothing except Lord Cor’s insistence that Saerk had to be the guilty party. Saerk himself insisted that he had been at home that night, along with both his son Yusef and his daughter Surayah. Of course, that meant little in itself, since he could well have hired an assassin to kill Moira, if he had wanted to. “But I cannot prove that he did,” Bylanna had said, shaking her head, “and I cannot arrest or judge a man on such weak grounds. I need proof, or at the very least stronger evidence. If you can find it for me, I will be happy to look into the case again.” 

Then Rini had asked if nobody had thought of trying a Diviniation spell or two on the murder scene, and Bylanna had said that although such a thing was very uncommon in Athkatla she had asked Lord Cor’s permission to make an attempt. He, however, had flown into a rage, screaming that he already knew Saerk was guilty, and that he would have no filthy magic in his house. And that had been the end of that discussion. 

“Isn’t it a bit odd?” Rini said, thinking out loud. They were walking back towards the Five Flagons now, to get some food. “Not wanting to use magic, when it’s his own daughter lying dead?” 

Anomen sighed wearily. “I’m afraid not,” he said. “When my father gets an idea into his head, there is no stopping him, no changing his mind. He will simply rush headlong into oblivion, not listening to reason. He has decided Saerk is guilty, and so he will not even consider other options.” He frowned. “I do wonder though…it is a bit strange that he had…had her remains committed to the flames, not even waiting for my return.” An embarrassed blush crept into his cheeks. “Father has squandered our wealth relentlessly, he might not have had the money for an attempt to summon Moira’s soul back to the land of the living, but I would have tried myself.” His voice turned quieter, almost inaudible. “He should have let me try…I would have done anything for Moira.”

Jaheira nodded, and she placed her hand firmly on the young priest’s arm. “Of course you would have,” she said, and although her voice was stern there was a mild look in her eyes. “We all know that. And if your father does not, I dare say it is his loss.” 

“Too right,” Rini agreed. “Ano, I haven’t even met the man yet, but I can still tell that he doesn’t deserve you.” She sighed. “I suppose we should talk to him though, if he’ll let us. To see if he can tell us anything else. We should talk to Lady Maria too, and have a look at that knife. Anything else?” 

Anomen rubbed his chin. “There is always Hervo, I suppose,” he said. “But he is only a servant, our…I mean my father’s…last remaining one, or so I think. I cannot imagine what he could possibly know.” 

“Do not be foolish,” Jaheira admonished him. “Servants tend to know a great many things about the people they serve, it is a well-known fact. We should speak with him as soon as we can.” 

“Jaella first though,” Jan said. “We need to hear what Red manages to find out, if anything, before we decide what to do next.” 

The mention of Edwina made Zaerini’s stomach make a nervous little lurch. She still did not like the idea of her lover attending that party, not at all. There wasn’t really anything she could do about it though. 

Minsc patted her on the shoulder. “Do not look sad, Little Rini! Minsc and Boo would also like to go to a party, just like the Evil Girl Wizard, but if butts need kicking elsewhere, then all heroes must put on their best boots, and not for dancing!” Boo squeaked suddenly from his place on top of the ranger’s bald head. “Yes Boo, it is strange that Dynaheir did not want to practice with Minsc. She did say something about ‘two left feet’, but that is very silly, because if I had two left feet I could only walk in circles. It is good that you practice with me Boo, though some of the moves you make still give poor Minsc headaches.” His eyes suddenly lit up. “Would Little Rini like to practice dancing with Minsc? If we cannot go to party, then we can have our own party, Boo says!” 

The half-elf shot a wide-eyed look at Minsc’s large feet, and at his massive body. Unfortunately, she then made the mistake of looking into his imploring eyes. “Um…sure, I guess,” she said. “Later.” 

“I will pray to Silvanus for some extra healing spells,” Jaheira blandly remarked. “Please try not to scream too loudly.” 

“You know,” Jan said, his eyes twinkling, “this reminds me of my young cousin, Patrick Jansen, who worked as a dancing instructor in a home for elderly lady gnomes, to perk them up you see. Well, it turned out that this wasn’t very easy with the regular dances, so Patrick invented his own, something called…the Turnip Twister! Very indecent it was, something no decent gnome should even think about.” He hummed a few notes. “Yep…I still know it by heart, including all the hip-rolls. Anyway, soon Patrick had managed to cheer all the old ladies up a great deal, especially since he was a fine-looking young gnome and very fond of using his nose in all the right ways when he moved.” 

“Do not even think of describing them,” Jaheira growled. 

“Couldn’t do that, Jae,” Jan went on. “They need to be seen, really. So, then one day this pretty young gnome lass came to visit her grandmother – lovely girl, magnificent nose she had. It was love at first sight, and then it got even better. See, they brought a real turnip into it, a mysteriously glowing one that Patrick had bought off a traveling wizard and that they tossed into the swimming pool before they really got into the dancing thing. It was meant to get energized by Patrick’s and his girlfriend’s ‘dancing’ you see, to give them extra energy, and unfortunately it worked all too well. See, it formed a magical cocoon around everybody in the place, and when it cracked open a week later all the old ladies in the nursing home had turned into beautiful young lady gnomes.” 

“What was so unfortunate about that?” Anomen asked.

“Oh, just that Patrick and his girlfriend had also been a bit rejuvenated…so it really did turn out to be a nursing home, literally. Lucky all those young ladies were able to help, but he was very disappointed about not being able to eat solids anymore, poor lad. Still, he’s just about to have his first tooth any day, and I dare say he’ll soon be walking again, even if it’ll take him a few years to get back to dancing. So just be careful how much fun you have when dancing, you never know.”

“Ah…thanks,” Rini said. “I don’t think Minsc and I will be doing that kind of dancing, really.” _I’ll save that for Edwina instead. Except with no turnips involved in any way._

Such amusements would have to wait a while though, until Edwina came back from her mission. Once the wizard had left, Zaerini nervously paced the floor of the room they both shared, trying not to imagine all the horrible things Aerie might do to her lover. Of course, that only resulted in her managing to think of even more gruesome possibilities. It was a great relief when there was a knock on the door and Jaheira stepped inside. 

“Child, there is something I need to speak to you about,” the druid said, and her green eyes were very serious. She was scowling, but this time Rini didn’t feel it was directed at her. “I have not been able to tell you this yet,” Jaheira went on. “You were trapped by that spell, and then the others were present, and this needed to be said in private.” She shook her head briefly. “I do not even know if you will believe me, but it needs to be said all the same. What Galvarey did…I did not know he intended any such thing. I would never have agreed to bring you there, had I known! But the corrupted little parasite lied to me, and he managed to deceive me. I…cannot begin to say how sorry I am. I cannot fault you for being angry with me either.”

The bard didn’t know what to say for a few moments. The mention of Galvarey’s name had brought the memories back, of the dark, and the nothingness. _And…Sarevok? There was something about Sarevok._ It took her almost half a minute before she realized that Jaheira was still watching her expectantly, waiting for her reply. “Jaheira, I didn’t know you thought that,” she said. “I’m not angry…I mean, I know you wouldn’t have asked me to go there if you’d known. So, I’m not angry with you, I’m just angry with the Harpers in general for treating me like some kind of wild beast that needs to be killed or locked up. I’m never letting them do that, and I don’t really think you will either.” 

“Never,” Jaheira firmly stated. “I…have no wish to go against the Harpers, but never will I let them harm you.” There was a very quick flash of pain in her eyes. “The Harpers have been mother and father to me, but if a peaceful solution cannot be found, then I will do whatever I must. I hope it will not come to that though.” 

“I hope so too,” Rini said, giving her friend a hug that the druid returned a little clumsily, as if she was completely unprepared for it. “It’s bad enough that Edwin’s got into trouble for my sake, I really don’t want it to happen to you too.” 

“He…I mean she…did say something about that,” Jaheira said, thoughtfully biting at her lip. “Finding that Harpers and Red Wizards might have things in common is…interesting, if not pleasant. Still, I suppose there is, ultimately, a certain sense of balance in that.” 

“Jaheira, you think there’s balance in everything, don’t you?”

“I should hope so,” the druid dryly said, smiling a little. “Or at least that there is some in Minsc’s two left feet…as I said, I should probably go and prepare those healing spells for later. Just in case.” 

-*-

Minsc was pleased with the way the evening was shaping up so far, and Boo had told him that he was quite right to be that. His Witch had kept her promise, and after supper he had got to dance with her, which was very nice, and Boo had helped him not to squish her toes even when the music got so fast it made his head spin. He had made his Witch spin too, which had made her laugh, and that was good too. It would help her not to worry about the Evil Girl Wizard, or about poor little Imoen, still trapped with the Very Evil Wizard. Boo told him that worrying was something most people other than Minsc did, and that it was very silly since it only made their tummies upset without helping them in any way. Minsc did not quite understand why other people spent so much time worrying when all you really needed was a trusty sword, especially a clever talking one like Lilarcor, and a noble hamster to point you in the direction of people needing their butts kicked. But since they did, at least he could try to help. 

“Would Little Rini like to sit down for a bit?” he asked, noticing that his Witch was looking slightly green in the face. “Did Minsc spin too fast?”

“Um…maybe just a little bit, Minsc,” the half-elf agreed. “It’s all right, I’d just like to rest a little while.” 

“Minsc knows a good place to rest! Boo tells me that downstairs is the place where people dress up in funny clothes and act plays! Can we go see that? Boo says he wants to.” The hamster squeaked briefly and wrinkled its small nose a few times. 

“Ooooh!” Lilarcor agreed. “Maybe I could get to act a part in a play…plenty of parts for magical swords. And then I could sparkle and glitter and offer mysterious quests and…and…CHOP LIMBS OFF SO BLOOD SPRAYS ALL OVER! MURDER, DEATH, KILL! MUAHAHAHAHA!” 

The elderly halfling manning the bar shrieked with fear as a few bottles with expensive-looking labels shattered on their shelf, spraying him with sticky and multi-colored fluids. 

“Right you are,” Zaerini hastily said, leading Minsc by the hand downstairs, with Softpaws quietly slinking after them. “I figure they need to clean this floor or something anyway…” 

It was fun to get to spend some time alone with his Witch, Minsc thought, without them being busy all the time. While Mighty Heroes needed to be busy doing good things, they also needed to rest now and then, or they’d go funny in the head like a hamster in a small cage. Since he was supposed to protect his Witch, he had to protect her against that too, Boo said, not just against monsters. Anomen had said he wished to spend a little while alone, thinking about his sister, and Jaheira was busy praying. Jan had departed quietly, murmuring something about paying a visit to Lissa. So, it was just Minsc and his Witch left, what with the Evil Girl Wizard being out and doing something that seemed oddly Good to Minsc, since it involved helping that poor little gnome girl. Perhaps spending so much time in the close company of Boo had managed to make her not so very evil anymore. Minsc privately resolved that he should try to continue to expose the Evil Girl Wizard to as much hamster goodness as possible in the future, to help things along. 

Meanwhile, this play was very good! The playhouse was down in the basement of the Five Flagons, and there was a real stage with real curtains and everything. And there were made-up trees on the stage, and noise like thunder even though it was indoors, and pretty music. There was a pretty girl too, who wanted to marry a nice young man, and an Evil Gnome who tried to steal her. This suddenly reminded Minsc of Jan, and he had to carefully check that Boo was still safe and sound. When he had finished reassuring himself, the nice young man was speaking again, in a stuttering nervous way that made Minsc think of Aerie. He meant to mention this to his Witch and noticed that she had hunched down in the seat, staring with wide eyes at the stage. Now and then she gave a quiet little groan, as if she was in pain. 

“Is Little Rini worrying again?” he asked. “Boo says that is not good, she will miss the nice play.” 

The bard gave him a disbelieving look. “The nice…Minsc, this is just awful,” she whispered. “They lines aren’t bad at all, but that guy they’ve got playing the male lead, Rodrigo, he behaves as if he’s never been on a stage in his life, except possibly to sweep it. He keeps messing up his lines all the time, and he looks as if he’s about to faint.” 

It seemed the rest of the people in the audience agreed with Zaerini on this subject. For a little while Minsc wondered why so many people were calling out for Boo and thought that maybe there was some Evil around and that the people wanted some real Hamster Heroics. However, Boo told him that the other people didn’t like the play either. The other people on the stage kept being very funny, now and then whispering things at the nice young man called Rodrigo, but he seemed to be getting more and more unhappy all the same. 

“This is worthless!” screamed a pretty girl in the audience. She had very tiny clothes on, and Minsc felt really sorry for her. It looked as if it must be cold. “We want the real Rodrigo, the one who was here before!” 

“Yeah!” one of her ten identically dressed friends yelled. She got to her feet with much jiggling, and that made certain that the poor nice young man on the stage lost any chance of making people listen to him. “We want Haery!” 

“HAERY! HAERY! HAERY! HAERY!” The rest of the girls were chanting in chorus by now, looking very angry. 

“No underwear for him, girls!” the first girl ordered, and she pointed at the stage. “GET THAT LOSER!” 

“I…I…I can’t help it!” the poor young man squealed in a very nervous voice, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “I’m…I’m just the understudy! I…” Whatever else he had meant to say was lost among his screams as the girls assaulted him with a furious rain of rancid eggs and cabbages. Eventually he turned tail and fled, and the other play-actors fled with him. Almost immediately however, another woman came out on the stage. She looked a bit funny, Minsc thought. Her skin was a pale green, and she had a pair of small horns on her head, something Minsc had never seen before. He didn’t really understand Boo’s explanation either, except that it sounded very naughty. He also didn’t understand much of the story anymore, but it was certainly exciting, especially now that the people in the audience were allowed to play in the story too. 

“I...I am sorry, good folk of the audience,” the green-skinned woman said. “As you can see, things are not right with our troupe due to circumstances beyond our control. I regret that we must call a halt to tonight’s performance at this point.”

“What is this?” Minsc protested as her words sunk home. “Minsc and Boo were just getting into this wonderful story when it was sadly interrupted. A work of mastery, this is!”

The green-skinned woman’s eyes flickered rapidly towards Minsc, and then she went on speaking, her clear voice a little stronger than before. “I beg of you, good people, come back another day when we have restored matters...we shall prove to you then that the Sigil Troupe is worthy of your attention and coin, and we shall do so for free, of course.“

“Ouch…” Zaerini whispered. “That has to hurt. But it’s all she can do…or this play’s rumor will get even worse.” 

“...and one final...odd...request, good folk,” the woman went on. “If you...or another...knows of those who are skilled in the arts of sword and adventure...do send them to speak to me. It is a matter of utmost urgency. Tell them to come and speak to I, Raelis Shai. Until then, I apologize again and bid you a fair evening...” With that she turned around and walked off the stage, and eventually the grumbling audience left. Those pretty girls seemed especially upset and were still muttering about ‘Haery’. Minsc didn’t quite understand what they meant by that, or why it was so important. He stroked his own neatly shaved scalp with satisfaction, feeling puzzled. Hair might be nice and warm, but for a Hero it could easily get in the way. Unless the Hero was also a Hamster of course, then hair was necessary. A bald hamster would be very sad and unhappy he thought, and Boo agreed. 

“Come on, Minsc,” Zaerini told him. “I want to go check this out, I’m feeling curious.” 

“Oh yes!” Minsc readily agreed. “If pretty green lady wants Heroes, then Heroes must come as she calls!” 

“Yeah…maybe…if it pays enough to be worth it. But let’s see what this Raelis woman wants, all right?” 

What Raeils wanted, it turned out, was help in finding two things. The first of the things was one actor, named ‘Haer’Dalis’, who had originally been supposed to play the part of Rodrigo, but had unfortunately been stolen away by an Evil Wizard named Mekrath. The other thing was a precious gem, owned by Haer’Dalis, and stolen by the very same Evil Wizard, who was supposedly hiding somewhere in the sewers beneath the city.

“That must be some gem,” Zaerini said, tapping her fingers idly against the hilt of her sword. “And you want us to help you find it, do you?”

“Aye – and our dark Haer’Dalis too, of course, our darling sparrow must not languish long in captivity, or it will break his free spirit!” 

“The actor is a sparrow?” Minsc asked. “Could maybe Boo play too then? He says he would much like to play something nice and harmless, something not like him at all.” 

Miss Raelis gave Boo that same stunned look that most people got in their eyes when confronted with the awesome reality of a Miniature Giant Space Hamster. “Oh…” she said. “I fear you misunderstand, good sir. Haer’Dalis is not truly a sparrow, I spoke in jest. In a cage he will suffer as surely as any bird though.” 

“Right…” Zaerini said, flipping her red hair back across her shoulder. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that, but I need to rescue a friend of my own, something that’ll cost a lot of money. If I’m to do this, I’ll need something in return.” 

Miss Raelis frowned a little. “We are but a destitute troupe of players, child, and can afford little. Mekrath may have treasure of his own... wrest it from his grasp if you wish to do so. But coin is e'er on the tongue... I can offer you 300 gold for our sparrow's return. Bring back the gem and I can more than double that. Is that sufficient?”

“For crawling through sewers towards a dangerous wizard, who ‘may’ have some loot worth the danger to me and my friends? I don’t think so…but it’s a start. Let’s do some negotiating, all right?” 

Minsc didn’t take much interest in the following conversation, which involved much animated talking between the two women, with plenty of waving of hands and raised voices. Instead, he busied himself with admiring the pretty swords standing in a barrel, although Boo told him that they were fake, and not sharp at all. Lilarcor scoffed at that, calling the other swords ‘fancy sticks’. Then there were all sorts of costumes and masks, and both he and Boo found the mouse ears especially interesting. “Look Boo!” he said, having stuck the ears on his head. “I am Minsc The Mouse, the Mighty Hero Mouse!” The hamster squeaked his approval at that. 

“Hey Minsc, I’m done now!” Zaerini said as she came up from behind, tapping Minsc on the arm. 

“Did Little Rini get along with the green lady?”

“Yeah…sort of. We made a deal anyway. She doesn’t have much cash, but if this works out, there’ll eventually be money enough to rescue Immy without us having to risk our lives for it, or at least I think so. We’ll see. But we can’t go to the sewers just yet, we need to help little Jaella first, and I told Raelis that. It’s all right though; she says the wizard won’t hurt her friend since he needs him for something. Anyway, we’ll go later, I guess.” A quick grin suddenly flashed across her face. “Oh yes…and you’d better take those mouse ears off. Softy is hungry, we wouldn’t want her to try to eat you…”


	87. Catching Up

**Cards Reshuffled 87 – Catching Up**

_It is amazing the kind of things certain people have the time to get up to if you happen to be absent for a brief while. Even more amazing is these certain people thinking it might be a good idea to try to keep this information to themselves. If we are talking about revealing things on a ‘need to know’ basis, then a perfect rule of thumb is that I always need to know. Things would be far simpler if only certain people could remember that._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

“A monkey,” Dekaras said, his voice flat. “Edwin, am I only imagining things, or does this seem like an awfully familiar scene?”

“Ah…” Edwina said, nervously twining a strand of her hair around her fingers. “But this isn’t anything like that other monkey I got myself before, the thieving one, not at all.” She picked the small animal up and held him up towards her teacher. “This is Insufferable, and he’s my very own familiar, you know how I’ve been meaning to get myself one for ages, and now I have one and he’s the most perfect one imaginable! Powerful, very powerful, and fierce, and intelligent…and…” 

Insufferable grinned widely and curtsied in her palm, spreading the bright pink gown he’d insisted on wearing because it was ‘colorful’, despite Edwina’s attempts to persuade him that it wasn’t suitable for a male monkey. Then he overbalanced, squealed and fell onto his back, legs flailing wildly.

“I see,” Dekaras said, and a small smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “My congratulations then. I see you are clearly happy about him – and the responsibility might do you good, I suppose.” He rubbed the small animal behind one ear, and Insufferable chattered happily. 

_Ooooh!_ The monkey jumped onto the assassin’s arm, making himself even fluffier than usual. _I like him, Boss! Think he’ll rub my tummy if I ask nicely?_ There was a brief pause, and then the monkey spoke again, sounding confused. _Aw…I can’t get through. I thought I could, like with your mate, but there’s something missing…_

_The magic_ , Edwina thought, and she bit her lip, trying to control her face and not display the anger and resentment she felt on her teacher’s behalf. He never did like to be reminded of his past, not even by her. _The magic is gone. He can’t hear you._

_You sure, Boss?_

_Of course I am!_

_If you say so…only I thought I felt something…but you’re the Boss._

“He seems a bit unnerved,” Dekaras remarked, watching Insufferable carefully. “I think perhaps you’d better take him back, before I spook him even more.” 

“It wasn’t you,” Edwina hastily assured. “He’s just a bit fussy tonight I guess.” She carefully placed her familiar on the bed, warning him not to make trouble. 

“Hm.” The assassin gave Insufferable a final look, but then he shrugged and crossed the room towards the dressing screen. “Very well, as long as he doesn’t make a mess in my bed, I suppose. Besides, we have more important things to speak of. I want to know exactly what you have been up to since I last saw you, apart from acquiring a monkey and a hideous nose ring, not to mention getting yourself cursed, but first there is something I wish to try.” He picked up the belt that he had been wearing before and tossed it to her. It sparkled faintly. “Here, try this on. Poppy gave it to me as a birthday present – I’m sure you recognize it, especially if I tell you that she picked it up in the Beregost area. Good thing the previous bearer managed to have the curse removed, so that it can actually be taken off. Although I’m sure Poppy would have found it very humorous even otherwise.” 

Edwina’s fingers trembled as she held the belt, watching it greedily as her heart filled with hope. “A girdle of gender change…the one I used on the _Wychlaran_ back then?”

“Very likely, I would say. Go on then – give it a try.” 

Edwina did, hardly remembering to breathe what with the excitement. Unfortunately, as soon as she attempted to buckle the belt on, it gave off a few small sparks that stung her fingers. Apart from that, nothing happened. “It…didn’t work,” she said, a little unnecessarily, her voice downcast. 

“So I see,” her teacher said. He sighed. “I suppose it was too much to hope for an easy solution. Probably the curse you’re under cancels out the enchantment. Well, we’ll just have to try something else. I suppose you’ve gone to the temples already?” 

“Yes,” Edwina said. “None of the ones I’ve visited knew what to do about it.” Then she thought of something. “Teacher Dekaras? What were you doing at that party, dressed up like…that?” 

“Oh, that,” the assassin said, shrugging a little. “I needed a disguise that divination spells couldn’t penetrate, obviously. I couldn’t have gone near the Avariel otherwise.” 

“Yes, but why did you have to go near her in the first place? She wants you dead, probably even more than me.” 

Then he told her. Halfway through the explanation Edwina had to sit down on a chair, since she felt quite faint. “A…a vampire?” she almost screamed once the tale was finished. “You’re spending time with a vampire, and a coven leader at that? This…this Bodhi creature? And with Aerie on top of that? But that’s incredibly dangerous!” _Not that that will stop him. Not that it ever stopped him if he thought something needed to be done._ She recalled just how bad things had become in Baldur’s Gate, and the terrible scare she had had when she had seen just how badly wounded her teacher had been. _I thought he was going to die, I really did. All that blood…_

“Edwin, you’re getting hysterical,” Dekaras patiently told her. “I have it all under control, you know. Besides, it was the best lead I had towards finding Imoen, and I rather hoped it would help me find you as well. Which it did, if not in quite the manner I expected. And speaking of that – what were you doing at the party, exactly?” 

Edwina thought about how to explain that, and as she did, she felt a hot and brief stab of jealousy. _Imoen. I know he said before that he isn’t in love with her or anything, but he cares about her, I can tell that he does. Suppose…suppose he cares more about her than me now? After all, she didn’t lie to him like I did. It’s not fair – he’s supposed to be there for me, not for her or anybody else! It’s just not fair!_

“Edwin, I’m waiting,” her teacher said, drumming his fingers against the table. “Just go on and tell me everything that’s happened to you. And stop sulking before your face gets stuck that way.” 

So, Edwina told him, in what she hoped was a calm and reassuring manner, showing herself off as capable and clever. Halfway through it occurred to her that she wasn’t quite succeeding. Dekaras had sat down at the table, and by now he was leaning his head into his hand, massaging his forehead as if he had suddenly acquired a very bad headache. “So,” he said in a toneless voice. “You have been fighting with the Cowled Wizards in the street…you have a highly dangerous Red Wizard after you, one who is known for being especially clever when it comes to tracking renegades down…you have annoyed an insane lich, from whom you stole the scroll that cursed you…you have revealed yourself to the Avariel, not just in your own form, but in this one as well…you have been fighting with Harpers…am I missing something? Is there _any_ powerful and dangerous creature, person or organization that you have not got hunting you, howling for your blood?”

“Well, there is that annoying old coot Elminster…” 

“Whom you dropped a cow on.” 

“Oh, yes. You should have seen that, it was a wonderful sight, and a true testament to my awesome magical prowess!” 

“I’m sure it was very amusing, if not for the cow,” her teacher said. “Anybody else wanting to kill you that I should know of? Dragons? Demons? Drow?”

” No, not that I know of. Teacher Dekaras? I’ve really become extraordinarily more powerful since last time you saw me, I can do all sorts of complicated magic now, so do you think I might perhaps…” 

“No Edwin!” Dekaras said, and although his voice was still calm, there was a dangerous glint in his black eyes. “No demon summoning spells.” 

“How did you know I was going to say that?”

“I know _you_. No demons, and that’s final. You do not need a single other creature desiring to tear you limb from limb.”

“Please?”

“No demons! And if you can, try to avoid getting bounties put on your head by any organizations you might have missed, such as the Order of the Radiant Heart, the Zhentarim, the Kraken Society, or the Twisted Rune.” 

“All right, all right…” 

“Good. And now I think we should see about getting you back to your friends. It’s late, I’m sure you’re expected.” 

Edwina grinned broadly at that thought. _Oh yes…I’m sure my Hellkitten is indeed expecting me. I wonder if she has gone to bed already? But if she has, I’m sure she won’t mind me waking her up, as long as I do it in a pleasurable way. I especially love the way she looks when…_

“And speaking of that,” Dekaras added, “I think it’s about time you properly introduced me to your young lady friend.” 

The lovely vision in Edwina’s head splintered into a million little pieces and was replaced by a dozen different horrible scenarios portraying all the ways such a meeting might go wrong. “M-meet her?” she stammered. “What are you going to…I mean, I’m not sure…” 

“Oh, do calm down!” Dekaras said, giving her a faintly amused look. “It would be very impolite for me to harm your…special friend…don’t you agree? But all the same, I want to see her, and under my real name this time, no pretenses. I think I will be paying you a visit, sometime tomorrow.” 

“I’ll tell her that,” Edwina said. “But you...er…you will be nice to her, won’t you?”

“Edwin, I will be perfectly civilized, you should know that.” 

“Yes, but you can be that even as you kill somebody!”

“Edwin, I will not kill her.” The assassin shook his head. “Really, there is no reason for you to fret so. I simply want to talk to her. You do know I keep my promises, don’t you?”

Edwina nodded. It was true, if her teacher promised her something, he always kept his word, no matter what. Anything other was unthinkable. “I know,” she said. “I’m sorry. It’s just that…” 

The assassin’s dark eyes were unreadable. “You really do love her,” he said, and it was a calm statement, not a question.

Edwina nodded again, mutely. 

“Then know that I want you to be happy, more than anything,” Dekaras said, “and if she is the one who will make you happy, then I would do anything in my power to protect her, much as I would you. But I still need to see her, to…have a word with her.” He grinned briefly. “Just be thankful it’s me doing this, and not your mother.” 

Edwina blanched at that thought, envisioning the magical explosions, the molten lava and the firestorms. “Oh yes,” she fervently said. “Believe me, I certainly am.” 

-*-

“Come again?!” Rini sat up swiftly in the bed, and then she yelped as the cool night air made contact with her damp skin. She hastily dove back under the covers, teeth chattering, and back into the welcoming embrace of Edwina, who didn’t seem at all dissatisfied with suddenly having an armful of half-elf on top of her. Quite the contrary, in fact, judging from what the wizard’s hands were getting up to. “He’s…hey, that tickles…he’s coming here? How? When? Now? And why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Well,” Edwina replied, “earlier we were rather busy if you recall. (I wonder if I could persuade her to do that divine thing with her lips again?) Now, I’m certain there has to be some more of that chocolate body paint somewhere….”

Zaerini unconsciously licked her lips at that thought. Yes, there still was a faint taste of chocolate. And her lover looked equally tasty, even if no longer covered in chocolate. The wizard’s long hair was spread out around her like a dark pool, her cheeks were still flushed from previous activities, and her lips were… _No, no, no! I have to think!_ “Edwina…don’t try to wriggle out of this.” 

“Honestly, there really is no need to worry. It’ll be perfectly safe, Teacher Dekaras promised me he wouldn’t try to kill you and that he only wants to talk to you.” 

“Oh, that’s really reassuring!” The bard snuggled a little closer to the other woman, trying to draw some warmth and comfort from that soft body. “Edwina…hearing that Aerie recognized you terrified me, even if you did get away in one piece. We really must lie low the next few days, to stay out of her way. And that other bit you said your teacher told you about, about that vampire who seems to be taking an interest in things, that’s equally bad. But this other little piece of news about a ‘visit’ scares me almost as much.”

“But why?”

_Because to you he’s only your beloved teacher, who has been your guardian all your life, and whom you would trust with your life. But I have seen the Wolf hunt – and although I like him well enough, I would be a fool not to be wary of him, until I know for certain what he intends. And if he doesn’t approve of me, I don’t doubt that things could get very nasty. Except I can’t really tell you that, can I?_

“Well,” she said with a feeble smile, “I guess you’ve told me quite a few stories about just how good your teacher is at what he does. Since in a sense I’m meeting him for the first time, with no pretend games, I want to make a good impression.” 

“You could never do other, my Hellkitten” Edwina said, reaching up to touch her cheek. “He will be enchanted with you, I’m sure of it.” 

“I hope so…I really do.” _Because I don’t want you to have to choose between us, never again. Even if you were to choose me, I couldn’t bear to see you go through that._

The reactions the following morning as the rest of the party was told a brief and heavily edited version of Edwina’s story were mixed, at the very least. The adventurers had gathered in the room that Zaerini and Edwina shared, in order to try to get some privacy. Rini privately thought that it would probably be for the best to leave the Five Flagons for a little while and keep out of Aerie’s sight as much as possible. The deal with Raelis seemed more attractive by the minute, sewers or not. At least it should be easy to hide underground, not to mention that Kangaxx the Demilich had told Edwina that he thought some of his lost bones were probably to be found somewhere in the Temple District. And the bones had to be found, for Edwina’s sake. _If we’re lucky we can kill two birds with one stone and avoid Aerie too. There are far too many prying eyes around here; the sewers should at least have less of those. Except we have to finish helping Jaella first, of course._ She looked out the window, at a more or less solid sheet of rain. Fat drops were hammering heavily against the grimy window and staying indoors had never seemed more attractive. 

“An assassin, is he?” Jan said, grinning in a very worrying manner. “Why, that brings me back a few years…I know a few good stories about assassins, you know. I’m sure your friend will enjoy hearing those, Red. For example, the one about…” 

“DON’T!” Edwina almost screamed. “Just don’t, and most definitely not after he gets here, not unless you want me to curse you until every single hair in your beard grows inwards, plaguing you with unsightly boils. (Although perhaps that might actually improve his looks.)” 

“Ah, you’re tense I see,” the gnome said, patting Edwina on the back. “Don’t you worry, I’ve got just the thing.” He held out a small bottle, made from dark purple glass. Zaerini couldn’t quite make out the contents, but she could see that there were tiny tendrils of smoke escaping from around the cork. “Ma Jansen’s finest turnip spirits,” Jan proudly explained. “Those will put the color back in your cheeks, right enough.” 

“I’m sure it would,” Rini said. “Probably the color green, right? Don’t touch it, ‘Dwina.” 

“I have no intention of coming near the gnome’s vile concoction,” Edwina said, scowling. She had spent all morning primping, fussing with her robe, her hair and her nails. Clearly, she wanted to look her best for her teacher’s benefit. “No doubt it would make me spend the next 24 hours face-down in the privy.”

“Don’t be like that, Red! Ma Jansen’s finest will put some hair on your chest, you know.”

“I don’t want hair on my chest! (That is, of course I do, but on my regular chest, not this one. Not that I would expect somebody who thinks a cucumber sized nose is the height of beauty to understand such matters.)” 

“There are many hairs on Minsc’s chest,” Minsc cheerfully remarked. The large man was sitting on a chair by the door, sharpening his sword. Rini wasn’t sure that Lilarcor needed to be sharpened, being a magical weapon, but the sword seemed to be enjoying itself, judging by the disgusting sounds it was making. “Not as many as on Boo’s of course, but then that is different, since Minsc is a man and not a hamster. Minsc hopes the Evil Girl Wizard’s friend isn’t too Evil? If he is only a little Evil, then Minsc will settle for Boo glaring warningly, but if he is lots Evil, then there must be much kicking of Evil Butt!”

Edwina’s face turned an interesting, if not terribly attractive shade of pale yellow. “You won’t so much as go near him, you…you rump-obsessed maniac! (What he would say about me introducing him to a Rashemani berserker I really don’t want to imagine.) This is supposed to be a private meeting.” 

“The good ranger is correct,” Anomen interjected, sounding a little smug. “It behooves all the companions of the Lady Zaerini to see first and foremost to her safety. If your erstwhile friend is as much of a threat as you make him out to be, then there can be no question of any of us departing from the lady’s side.” 

“We’ll just see about that after he gets here, all right?” Rini hastily said, clutching at Edwina’s arm. The snarl on the wizard’s face suggested that fireballs might be flying before long. “No need to decide anything just yet. For all I know, he might not turn up until tonight.” 

“Yes, and I have to say I do not appreciate not knowing when it will please this…assassin to appear,” Jaheira said. The druid was standing opposite Minsc, leaning on her quarterstaff, and she had a very tense look on her face. If she’d been in animal form, Rini thought that all the hairs on her back would probably have been standing on edge. “I will decide for myself if he can be trusted or not, and I will not let Zaerini out of my sight until I am certain he means her no harm. And from what I recall of him, he could turn up anywhere, at any moment.” She turned around. “And you can drop the smirk, you infernal wizard! This is not funny!” 

“Would you know,” Edwina said, “I rather think that it is. And you had better address me politely and with the absolute adulation I deserve once Teacher Dekaras does get here, or he won’t be happy at all.”

Rini took the opportunity to pinch her lover’s earlobe lightly, which produced a highly satisfying yelp. “You’re sounding like a spoilt brat, Dread Wizard” she whispered into the wizard’s ear. “Don’t complain if I treat you as one.” 

“Hmpf, all I was planning to say was that these assorted simians you insist on surrounding us with are completely superfluous, and that even if there was any question of a threat they would be as useful as Szass Tam’s hairbrush.” Upon seeing the blank looks that met her she gave a small shrug. “He is completely bald, and he was that even before he became a lich. Not that I would expect you unread westerners to know. But as I was saying, if Teacher Dekaras wants to get in here, he will.” Edwina’s voice now fell to a hissing whisper, except for those brief occasions when it rose dramatically. “He can move like a ghost…and you’ll never spot him until it’s too late. He can get in anywhere, even if it means wriggling through tiny windows or narrow sewers. He could get in here, no problem.” The wizard was enjoying herself, and having an audience, Rini thought. Edwina’s eyes glittered with excitement, and her face was flushed. She sounded almost…worshipful. “He could get in any way he wants…through the window maybe.” 

Five pairs of eyes automatically swiveled towards the grimy window. Nobody to be seen there. _Then again_ , a treacherous little voice whispered in Rini’s head, _that’s the whole point, isn’t it? Not being seen?_

“Or through the roof, perhaps,” Edwina went on. “I believe there’s an attic above us, and the ceiling could be easily punched through.” 

Was there perhaps a light scratching sound above her head, Rini wondered? Hard to tell through all the rain. 

_If he can do that, he’s almost as good as a cat_ , Softpaws said. The black cat was curled up on the bed, her tail against her nose, looking annoyingly relaxed. _That roof is really steep. Then again, I remember that male…he might just do it._

_Thank you, Softy. That is such a comfort._

_Always happy to help, kitten._

“Or through the chimney,” the wizard said. “I know he’s done that before, sometimes. Not while the fire is lit of course – but I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he could do that too, if he really had to.”

Again, five pairs of eyes turned towards the fireplace. It didn’t look large enough – but would it be a good idea to bet on it? Rini didn’t think so. A few dried ashes suddenly dropped into the fireplace from above, and she startled violently, colliding with Minsc. It was raining even more heavily now, and that made it far darker outside than it should have been at this time of day. 

“Don’t worry, Little Rini,” Minsc told her in a rumbling whisper loud enough to wake a bear from its winter sleep. “Minsc will protect you!” He wandered over to the fireplace, and inserted Boo into it. “If Evil tries to drop down from above, then its descending buttocks will be met by keen hamster teeth!” The hamster squeaked in agreement. 

“Or,” Edwina went on after an annoyed glance at the ranger, “he could enter some other way…perhaps through the sewers. They do have them connected to this inn.” 

_Oh great_ , Rini thought. _Now I won’t even be able to go to the privy without worrying about an assassin popping up from below. Which would be extremely embarrassing for both of us, I think, even if he didn’t try to kill me._

“Or perhaps,” Edwina said, “he could enter through the…” She hesitated, trying to think of something suitably ominous, Rini guessed. “Through the…the…” 

“Through the door, perhaps?” a dry voice remarked from the doorway. “Normally that is the most convenient way, you know.” Rini spun around so quickly she came close to tripping over her own feet, and only her quick reflexes saved her from an undignified sprawling position on the carpet. She wasn’t the only one either, Anomen bit back a startled oath, and Minsc already had his sword raised. Jaheira said nothing, but the deliberately relaxed way she carried herself clashed with the way she carefully shifted the grip on her staff. As for Jan, his mischievous grin widened a little as he cocked his crossbow. And Edwina? Edwina’s face had been split by one big smile, and her eyes were practically glowing with excitement. 

Zaerini recognized the man who was nonchalantly leaning against the doorpost, of course. She’d met him before, although under a different name, and he looked much as he remembered him. Tall and lean, with a way of moving that always had reminded her of some sort of wild animal. For an instant, an image flashed across her eyes. _The wolf. The black wolf, on the prowl. I have seen him more times in my dreams than in the flesh, haven’t I? Probably better not tell him that…I don’t think he’s the sort who enjoys prying._

The assassin turned his head slowly towards her. His face was partially obscured by the hood of the black cloak he was wearing, which was currently leaving little puddles of rainwater on the floor, but she could almost feel his eyes boring into her head. 

“I thought that door was locked,” Rini said, amazed at how calm she sounded. _Say something, anything…_

“Oh, it was,” Dekaras said. “My apologies for not knocking – I’m afraid it’s a bad habit of mine. And I always like to get some lock picking practice in, if I can.” He looked about the room, seemingly for the first time noticing the glowing Flail of Ages, the crossbow, the quarterstaff and the sword being brandished in his direction. Lilarcor was screaming something about ‘Gorging on the seeping crimson life fluid of our foes and munching their quivering jellies’. The assassin pushed the hood of his cloak back, and Rini thought she could see the shadow of a crooked smile tugging at his mouth. “Good morning, by the way,” he said. “I do hope I didn’t come at a bad time.”


	88. Introductions and Infiltration

**Cards Reshuffled 88 – Introductions and Infiltration**

_A calm demeanor can help in many tense situations, either by calming other people down or by sufficiently unnerving them. However, there are certain situations where I have to admit that I find it very difficult to keep one up…_

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

Now this was all turning out in a very interesting manner, Dekaras thought. He counted four lethal weapons being brandished at him with various degrees of enthusiasm, which was a matter of some concern, especially when it came to that tense-looking young fellow in the shiny armor. That one was holding a very large and heavy flail and seemed to be in a mood to use it. And there was a particular look in his eyes, one that the assassin had seen before, if only ever very briefly. _Ah. The kind who loses his temper easily. Yes, and there’s a twitch in his cheek. Can I make it worse; I wonder? Hold his eyes for just a little longer…oh yes. I could._ That armor was very shiny indeed – and there was a holy symbol clipped onto it. An open eye, in the palm of a raised hand. _So, he is a Helmite then. Interesting._

Then there was the gnome, a fairly rotund fellow in dizzyingly multi-colored robes, wielding an extremely complicated-looking crossbow that was almost as tall as he was. He was also wearing a pair of goggles, which made his twinkling eyes appear almost twice as large as they were. But the way he held his weapon belied his comical appearance, it was clear that he knew exactly what he was doing. _And I, if anybody, ought to know that size has nothing to do with lethality. Poppy would never let me hear the end of it if I underestimated this one._

The druid Dekaras recognized from before, of course, although he had only ever met her briefly. Still, there were a few differences, he thought. She seemed a little thinner, probably the result of her ordeal in that dungeon. Still wielding her quarterstaff very professionally though. But there was something else that was different. Something about her eyes…a hint of darkness that hadn’t been there before. _Of course. Edwin said something about her husband having been killed. She is still grieving, and no doubt twice as inclined towards violence as normal because of it._

And there was the berserker, his tribal tattoos very recognizable, even if having a small hamster on your shoulder as you charged screaming into battle wasn’t exactly the normal custom. _A Rashemani berserker. Oh, how lovely to have a taste of home. At least the Wychlaran managed to get herself killed. I doubt I could sit down for a quiet tea party with one of those, even for Edwin’s sake._

The assassin let his eyes drift towards the very nervous Edwin, which was an extremely odd experience in itself. _He really does look quite a bit like his mother in this shape. Perhaps I should have guessed sooner. Then again, the term ‘losing a son but gaining a daughter’ is usually never quite this…literal._

And that more commonplace meaning, of course, was the real reason for him being here. Zaerini was looking back at him, and he was pleased to see that she didn’t flinch or drop her eyes. She was rattled, oh yes. That much was clear from the faint flush in her cheeks and the way she hadn’t quite been able to hide a tremble in her hands by gripping the belt encircling her slender waist. But she still carried herself proudly, and beneath that uncontrollable wild mass of red hair her golden eyes were steady, if not entirely calm. Not challenging, exactly, but not cowed at all. _Good. I thought before that she had backbone, and it doesn’t seem as if she’s lost it. I would hate to imagine Edwin falling for a weak willed woman._ For an instant another image flickered before his eyes, that of a fiery red cat looking back at him, still with those yellow eyes. He could swear that he’d seen that cat before, but then it was gone again, and he dismissed it. There were more important matters to deal with at the moment. 

“I fear I once again have forgotten my manners,” he smoothly went on, taking special care to appear not to notice the drawn weapons. “I am Vadrak Dekaras, tutor to young Edwin there, though necessity forced me to give you a different name when I met some of you before. But I am certain Edwin will have explained that already, as well as my purpose in being here.” A thought suddenly occurred to him, and he gave the wizard a very pointed look. “At least,” he said, lowering his voice to an almost hiss, “I hope that Edwin has explained it already, because I would hate to think that any student of mine would neglect something as important as that after I specifically asked for it.” 

“Yes, I did,” Edwin hurriedly said. “I told them everything!”

“Everything, Edwin? Really everything?”

“Um…no, not really. Nothing I should not tell them, of course. Nothing private. But everything about you coming here.” 

“Oh, capital. Well done.” He cocked his head to one side and spoke directly to Zaerini. “So, now that that is cleared up, could we perhaps dispense with the taunts, threats and raising of various pointed or blunt objects in my direction? I don’t have much time to spare, and I’d rather not waste it.” 

“I will not lower my guard so much as an inch until I am certain you mean the lady no harm, foul villain!” It was the young man, the Helmite. _So, he is that kind of Helmite. Loyal, undoubtedly, but unreasonable to the point of being pig-headed. Come to think of it…that is the most common kind._

“I agree,” said the druid, her face locked in a fierce scowl. “I will not leave her side until I feel convinced that you have no hostile intentions.” 

“You know,” added the gnome, “this reminds of a story about an assassin relative of mine, a certain…mmmmfff…mmmmfffff…” 

“Actually,” Zaerini said with a somewhat manic smile, still holding her hand tightly clamped across the gnome’s mouth, “why don’t we save that one for later, Jan? Much later.” 

“Mmmmffff?”

“Sometime next year or so, I think.” 

Dekaras wasn’t quite certain exactly what the girl seemed so frantic about, but he decided not to pursue this avenue of questioning at the moment. Instead he kept the greater part of his attention on the berserker, since the large man seemed very much unstable. The disconcerting thing about him wasn’t the two-handed sword he was holding easily in one hand, even though it was muttering something about ‘rivulets of crimson ichor’. The really worrying thing was the hamster he was holding up and pointing in the assassin’s direction, wielding it as if it were some kind of magic wand. _If this madman suddenly decides I’m the reincarnation of an evil Carrot Demon and must have my head cut off in order to prevent my kidnapping of the princess of the Rodent People, I’ll need to move quickly. Probably should try to go for his eyes. That slows down just about anything._

“Oh, I agree, Boo!” the man was saying to the little animal. “Curioser and curioser, Minsc thinks! Not quite Evil enough for righteous butt-kicking, only some parts Evil, but lots dangerous, almost as dangerous as you, Boo!” 

“Now that is a performance review I don’t think I will be quoting any time soon,” Dekaras mused out loud, and he was surprised to hear the druid give a brief chuckle, although she almost immediately restrained herself. 

“What’s that you say, Boo? Oh! Yes, Minsc will ask.” The tattooed man blinked, his expression one of almost childlike innocence. “Boo says you left Rasheman long ago…did you fail your _dejemma_ too, just like poor Minsc failed to protect his Witch? But Minsc has a new Witch now, perhaps she could be yours too?”

It took the assassin a few seconds to process this comment, and he was still mentally reeling from it when he realized that it had been spoken in the tongue of the Old Country. _So at least the others will not understand…that’s something._ He forced himself to breathe calmly, hoping that he had managed not to let anything show on his face. _Never show weakness. Never. Even while having old skeletons dragged out of the closet by a…hamster._ The little beast was looking a bit smug, he thought. “I had my reasons,” he curtly said, using the same language. “And I do not wish to discuss them, any more than I wish to have any contact with the Witches.” 

“Not even with little Rini? She is a very nice Witch. And Minsc thinks that perhaps the Evil Girl Wizard could be one too, if only she was a little less Evil.”

_Oh really?_ At this point, something must have shown on his face, because Edwin took a hurried step back, placing himself, or rather herself, in front of Zaerini, and the druid and the priest raised their weapons again. _Control. Do not lose it. He doesn’t know any better – though I’m not so sure about that blasted hamster._ “I see,” Dekaras said, switching back to Common. “Clearly you do not know very much about the _Wychlaran_ , my large friend. I have to admit that I envy you. And that is all I will say on this matter. Now, if you will excuse me, I wish to speak with the children. Alone.” 

Zaerini nodded hurriedly, her red hair dancing about her face. “Yep, I really think that would be a good idea, guys. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. We’ll do the full introductions later, right?” She briefly indicated the Helmite priest, the gnome, and the berserker. “This is Anomen Delryn…this is Jan Jansen…and this is Minsc. And you met Jaheira already.” A shadow crossed her face. “If only Immy were here…she’d be really happy to see you again.” 

“Yes,” Dekaras said, trying to banish the dreadful memory of That Picture, and hoping fervently that nobody would see fit to mention it. All the same, he couldn’t deny that he missed the girl a great deal indeed, and hoped she was all right. “We should talk about her too…but other matters first.” 

Eventually everybody else had left the room, leaving only the bard, the assassin and the wizard behind. There had been loud protests, especially from Anomen and Jaheira, but Zaerini had been stubborn, despite her smile. Dekaras had to approve of that, she certainly was no weakling. 

“Right,” the girl eventually said, her golden eyes glittering. “Let’s get down to business then. Are you here to kill me?” She was cradling her familiar in her arms, the same black cat that Dekaras had seen before. The animal was watching him steadily. 

“If I was,” he said, “would you really expect me to announce my intentions in advance? What kind of an amateur do you take me for?”

“Um…sorry,” Zaerini said, grinning. “It’s just that every single assassin I ever met before tried that approach.”

“Well, they can’t have been very good ones then.”

“Nope…don’t think so. And you don’t recite poetry before you kill people either, do you? Please say no.” 

“No,” Dekaras said, very slowly, wondering if the girl had perhaps become a bit unhinged by her previous captivity. “I most certainly do not. I can’t imagine why anybody would want to behave in such a ludicrous fashion either.” 

“Well,” Edwin chimed in, “there was this Harper assassin you see…and we killed her. Well, actually, she got turned into a bird, and the cat ate her. I told you about the Harpers before, remember? Well, not about the eating part, perhaps, that didn’t seem very important at the time.” He…no, she, looked more nervous than ever for some reason, and was practically babbling. 

“Was it at least good poetry?” Dekaras idly asked. 

“No,” Zaerini said, tickling the ears of her cat. “Not really.” 

“No redeeming traits then. I am sure she deserved it. Anyway, in answer to your original question, I am not here to kill you. I just wanted to clarify a few things.” He slowly and purposefully circled the half-elf, inspecting but saying nothing. To the girl’s credit, she didn’t wince, and she almost managed to hide the way she tensed up. _Well done. And this despite the fact that I am using my greater height against her in an unfair manner. Impressive._ “So,” he eventually said, causing the girl to startle a little, ” Edwin tells me that he is in love with you.”

At this, Edwin’s face shifted color, becoming a very bright red indeed. “Teacher Dekaras!” the wizard wailed. “Do you have to…” 

“Yes Edwin, this is important. I promise I will try not to embarrass you. Well, not too much.” He turned to the girl again. “And do you love him?”

“I don’t have to answer that!” Zaerini said, tilting her chin defiantly upwards. 

“That is correct,” Dekaras admitted. “And yet, it would be in your best interest to do so. You see, I want Edwin to be happy, and I will do anything in my power to achieve that. So, if you love him you might as well tell me so and save us both some trouble. If you and he are really serious about each other, I will not try to stand in your way, I can promise you that much.”

Zaerini looked thoughtful at this. She stroked her cat for a few more moments, thinking. “Yes,” she eventually said. “I love him a great deal…well, ‘her’ just now I suppose, although we’re working on that, but I suppose the most important thing right now is to get that Geas spell off Eddie before Kangaxx the Demilich gets impatient and…” 

“Just one moment,” Dekaras said, and as he turned his head, he could see Edwin making frantically hushing gestures in the half-elf’s direction. “What was that you said just now?”

“Ooops…” Zaerini said, noticing Edwin’s nervous signals. “’Dwina…you didn’t tell him?”

“Ah…” Edwin said, looking very pale and sweating heavily. “There were so many other things to talk about…I suppose I…er…forgot?” The last word was spoken in a very hopeful voice and aimed in Dekaras’ direction. 

“Can we go back a moment in time,” the assassin said in his most dangerous voice, “to the sentence containing the words ‘Eddie’, ‘Geas’ and ‘Demilich’, which I have to say is a very worrying combination under any circumstances.”

“You _didn’t_ tell him,” Zaerini stated, shaking her head. “Oh dear…” 

“Well, I thought it a minor matter, of no particular significance compared to other endeavors…” 

“Minor matter,” Dekaras said, and by now he had to really restrain himself in order not to outright snarl at his…well, you had to call her a daughter, he supposed. “Minor matter. A Demilich.” _Pity I can’t ground her anymore._ “Edwin…” 

“Er…sorry?” the wizard attempted, smiling rather sheepishly. 

“Yes, you should be. And now, please inform me of any other ‘minor matters’ you might have forgotten. And major ones, although I frankly dread the thought of what those might be…” 

-*-

Sometime after these events, in a room on the top floor of the Five Flagons Inn, two men were conversing. Well, they weren’t exactly men, although they might have been mistaken for such at a distance. Or at least at a pretty long distance. But if you approached them more closely, you would be able to see that they were far too gaunt, like a human who had been starved for a very long time, and that their arms and legs were too long compared to their torsos. They moved in an odd, graceful but at the same time oddly repellent way, as if their joints bent in all the wrong ways. Both of them were dressed in beautiful and elaborately decorated armor, and the only thing that might have helped a regular human tell them apart was the minor differences in decorations. Certainly not their faces, both of which were thin and sallow skinned in a way that you wouldn’t ever see on a living human. However, their eyes were very much alive. Black and glittering, with no visible whites or pupils, much like those of a bird, or perhaps some kind of insect. The ears were pointed, much like an elf’s, but the edges were serrated. 

“What have we learnt?” asked one of them. 

“The Ancient Enemy is close,” said the other. “A small colony so far but growing larger.”

“Can we eradicate it?”

“Not yet. They are hiding as of yet, and I have not been able to locate them. However, one of them is moving more openly, probably a scout. I suggest we move swiftly. This city is ripe for raiding, plunder and slaughter, we should not allow the hated illithid to snatch it from us.” 

“Very well. In the name of Gith, we will strike and…” 

There was a knock on the door. Glittering black eyes turned towards it, and then the two beings looked at each other. 

“Are we expecting somebody?” said one, the one with the larger number of beads, feathers and glittering gems affixed to his armor. 

“No,” said the other. 

“Not even one of those humans who deliver round foodstuffs with tomato sauce and cheese and all sorts of delicious things on top? I’d kill for an Extra Hot Pepperoni right now.” 

“Wrong part of the Prime, my commander. No pizzas here as yet, I fear, although I believe some of the wizards are researching it.”

“Oh. Not even a plain Margarita?”

“Not even that.” 

“Shame. Go on then, see who it is, and then kill them if they are a bother. Come to think of it, it might be fun to kill them anyway. I’m bored. As long as we don’t mess up the floor.” 

The Githyanki with the lesser number of beads and feathers bowed and then went over to open the door. He was surprised to find himself looking down at a short, bearded gnome wearing a mage-robe that seemed to display colors normally never seen on the Prime Material. The gnome was beaming brightly up at him. “Hello!” the gnome said. “Have you found Jan yet? Did you know that he is watching you right now?”

“Huh?” said the Githyanki. His name was Harkle, and although he wasn’t exactly stupid, unexpected situations still tended to unnerve him.

“Why, the Great God Jan, of course! I cannot believe you’ve never heard of him, but I’m going to tell you all you need to know, right now, and then you’ll both be happier than ever before!” With that, the gnome scurried across the threshold and into the room, still smiling maniacally. “Yes, the Great God Jan, Lord of the Turnips is among you, good fellows! And he has a special offer for two special lads such as yourself…or is one of you a lass? Hard to tell, really, just like with my Auntie Bertram…anyway, here it is! If you convert right now, you’ll not only get a rubber replica of the Holy Turnip, you’ll get the best seats in the Great God Jan’s paradise, with the option of throwing turnip peel on the unbelievers as they burn in the Abyss. Won’t that be fun? Tell you what, you’ll get in two for the price of one!” 

“What in the name of Gith are you babbling about, small creature?” growled the higher-ranking Githyanki, whose name was Ptooie. 

“Just being friendly, lads! Offering you both a good chance at salvation – all you gotta do is to skip town right now and never come back. Deal?”

Ptooie wrinkled his nose, making it resemble a snout more than ever. “Kill this small intruder who would have us betray the Githyanki!” he sharply ordered his subordinate, who advanced towards the gnome, obediently raising his sword. 

“You sure?” the gnome said. “Oh well, your loss I suppose…” 

It was at this point that Ptooie learnt that although his armor was indeed very fine, it nevertheless had some flaws. One of those flaws was situated right below the armpit, and that was where something long and very sharp had just entered his body. As he keeled forward, blood gushing from his mouth, he just had the time to see Harkle go down, gurgling noisily as a blurred shape seized him by the throat. He tried to plane shift, to get himself to safety, but he was too weak, and the weapon that pierced his flesh pinned him down, kept him grounded on the Prime Material plane. _Perhaps I should have converted to the Great God Jan after all_ , his treacherous mind thought. Of course, by then it was already too late. 

_Five minutes later._

“The ‘Great God Jan?’” Dekaras said, and finally managed to pull one of his best daggers out from between the ribs of the leader Githyanki. “Clearly I haven’t been following the news of the Realms as closely as I ought to have done. Or is this a sudden elevation?”

“Just a little spur-of-the-moment fib to make sure they wouldn’t pay attention to anybody entering the window, Vaddy my pal,” the annoying gnome answered, still with that cheeky grin. “You did say to distract them, remember? I hope you’re not growing forgetful, like my poor cousin Amos Jansen. First, he forgot to wash, then he forgot to eat, even the plumpest of turnips, then he forgot to clean his nose, and eventually he forgot to breathe, poor soul. Though that bit might have something to do with him not cleaning his nose properly, I suppose.”

“Keep calling me ‘Vaddy’ and I may just see about helping you forget to breathe as well,” the assassin coolly replied. _What is it about me that makes people try to saddle me with annoying nicknames?_ He hated to admit it, but his patience was beginning to run out. It had all seemed a perfect plan at first, too. Once he had exchanged information with Edwin and his new girlfriend -that was still something that felt very strange to think about, Edwin having a long-term partner, almost as much so as Edwin currently being female - well, after that he had volunteered to help with this little mission involving ‘the Hidden’. After all, Bodhi wouldn’t expect his report until tonight, and if the mission was as shady as he suspected he would probably be better suited for dealing with it than any of the others. It would also give them time to prepare and get some more supplies, and to generally avoid getting seen by any bloodthirsty Avariel. 

All of it was very logical, and when the contact in the Sea’s Bounty revealed that the mission in question was to permanently get rid of two people staying in a certain room in the Five Flagons Dekaras had been glad that the young ones didn’t have to get involved, especially when he had done some scouting and learnt that the targets weren’t human at all. Githyanki could be dangerous, and if cornered they could be very dangerous. He would do far better on his own, and Zaerini had seen that soon enough. Edwin, of course, trusted his judgment. However, Jan had insisted on coming along, to lend whatever help he could. Dekaras could sympathize with that, having heard the story about the deathly ill little girl. If it had been Edwin’s life on the line, he wouldn’t have wanted to sit idle either. Unfortunately, that didn’t help much against the fact that the gnome seemed determined to talk him to death. Mostly he tried to ignore the endlessly flowing stories, but he wasn’t certain how much longer he could keep it up. _Just a little longer. I can do that. Of course I can._

“By the way,” he said, wanting to change the subject, “are you by any chance the Jan Jansen who sells personally modified and…unique weapons?”

“Why, yes indeed I am, Vadd…er…that’s me all right! You heard about me then? I know I have a few happy customers here and there.” 

“I met one of them, yes. It was back in Thay, just before we left, and this fellow got it into his head that he could make a name for himself by killing me. He had apparently bought one of your crossbows, the one with the automatic and extra speedy reloading mechanism and the poisoned bolts.”

“What happened?” Jan asked, frowning. “Did it malfunction? That model was always a little erratic…”

“Oh, it malfunctioned all right, at least after I broke it over his head. I’m afraid this fellow wasn’t good enough to get himself into a good enough position to use it properly. He should have practiced his stealth rather than invested in a weapon too advanced for him. But it got me interested, I may want to make a few purchases myself when we have the time to sit down and go over my specifications.” 

“Well, sure thing, Vaddy, anything you want!” 

“Good. And the first thing I want is for you to stop calling me ‘Vaddy’, or there is no deal. I’m certain you are enough of a businessman not to want to alienate your customers, am I correct? This includes the more calculatedly annoying of your stories as well. I wouldn’t expect you to completely stay silent, but you are a clever enough person, I think you will soon figure out where I draw the line.” 

Jan simply nodded, and the silence that followed was very satisfactory. Dekaras was just about to turn and leave when he felt it again. A mental probing, brushing across his mind, trying to attach itself to him with sharp little claws. 

_Scrying…again?_ They had been growing even more frequent lately, and more and more difficult to keep out. He was very used to keeping his mental shields up, but recently something had changed. It was as if something had crept past them, and more or less opened a backdoor directly into his soul, a backdoor that he couldn’t quite pull closed, no matter how much he tried. The original intruder might or might not have been hostile…he didn’t seem to be suffering any ill effects, but the very idea of somebody getting that close to him without permission was enough to make his skin crawl. Unfortunately, now others had discovered the way in, and they were constantly trying to sneak past his defenses, to pin him down. 

There were several of them, and at least one of them felt very powerful. An unknown presence, somewhere far away to the east, but still powerful enough that keeping her out was proving to be a struggle. And it was a ‘her’, of that much he was certain. He could make an educated guess about what kind of ‘her’ it was too. _The Wychlaran. They have found me or are very close to finding me. I don’t think they know my exact location yet, but it can only be a matter of time. That one is very powerful, and…I am tiring._

That wasn’t a pleasant thought, not at all. There were few things that frightened him, but the thought of winding up in the clutches of the Witches of Rasheman was one of them. _Death would be preferable to what they would do to me. Preferable by far._ He wouldn’t give up though, not at all, no matter how painful resisting was getting. _I will not walk willingly into captivity like some docile puppy. And besides, Edwin needs me. I cannot let him down. Not to mention that my love is waiting for me to come back, and I mean to keep my promise to her about that._

He had wondered whether he should tell the wizard of his concerns but had eventually decided against it. _He has enough of his own worries; he doesn’t need to be saddled with mine on top of that. And besides, there is nothing he could do. No, I must handle this on my own. Somehow._

The probe got sharper, more painful, and then finally slipped away. 

“You OK?” Jan asked. “Only you look rather pale…”

“It is nothing,” Dekaras said, shaking his head. “I will be fine.” _As long as I do not sleep too much, or too heavily, that is._


	89. Flock of Sheep

**Cards Reshuffled 89 – Flock of Sheep**

_Apparently, not having to think is something quite a lot of people find very attractive. It’s so much easier to follow like a sheep behind the first charismatic person who tells you he knows a secret shortcut to the Land of Free Wine and Frolicking Nymphs. What they tend to forget is that sheep are basically used for two things. Wool, and meat._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“I wonder why The Hidden wanted to meet us down here,” Zaerini mused. ‘Down here’, was down in the sewers beneath the Copper Coronet. “Edwina said that he said he didn’t want to attract attention, but I don’t know what’s so bad about meeting somewhere that is not slimy. And I wonder who he really is…I don’t think mind-reading is a skill usually taught in the Church of Lathander.” 

“As long as he keeps his promise and cures Jaella, he can be whatever he likes,” Jan said. The gnome and the half-elf were the only two of the companions who were going to this meeting, since Zaerini wanted the others to stay out of sight until it was time to leave for the main sewer system. She didn’t think it was necessary for all of them to come along either, all she meant to do was to go meet The Hidden, confirm that his mission had been carried out, and then stop by Jan’s home to hopefully find that their mysterious employer had kept his side of the bargain. She and Jan had taken the precaution of using invisibility spells on their way here, which had kept them safe from Aerie or any of her spies. Rini carried a supply of potions as well, not prepared to take any chances. And then there was Softpaws, who padded silently behind her, almost invisible already.

“Yes, but who do you think he is?” she repeated her question. 

“Hm,” the gnome said. “Hard to say…but I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he turns out to be a griffin. Curious creatures, those griffins.” 

“Hope he won’t try to eat us then…oh, I think that has to be him.” 

Indeed, there was a person standing at the other end of the tunnel that the two adventurers were currently walking through. It was hard to see him properly at this distance though, since the light was so faint. As she approached, she could see that he certainly wasn’t wearing the pink and gold of a Lathander priest. In fact, he bore not the slightest resemblance to the elderly human that Edwina had described. Rather, he was a man-sized rabbit, with long floppy ears, and was leaning nonchalantly against the wall, chewing on a carrot. He turned his head and winked slowly at her, his eyes glowing in an unsettling dirty orange color behind a very tiny black mask. “Er…what’s up, Doc?” the rabbit said in a voice that somehow managed to sound innocent and insanely rude at the same time. At the sight of the two blank faces in front of him he sighed with annoyance. “Oh, shoot…I must have taken a wrong turn at Albuquerque.” 

“At what?” Rini managed. _Oh well…I shouldn’t be surprised. This is only slightly stranger than that little kid who turned into a demon, back in Nashkel. Or Korax the ghoul…or Nevaziah the lich with his Ducky…might as well just lean back and relax into insanity._

The Rabbit snorted. “Sorry, Doc…wrong part of the cosmos. You people are so complicated, here I try to imitate a comforting icon of happiness for your sake, and are you grateful at all? Nope, not one bit. And this form is so…infectious. Makes me want to grab your cheeks and give you a big kiss…” 

”You stay away from my cheeks, you freak, unless you want to wind up as rabbit stew!” 

“Hey! It’s Mr Rabbit for you! Or Mr Wabbit for the short one…or The Hidden if you really insist. I am Hidden, see? See my mask? Nifty, eh? Uuuuhhh…I’m supposed to be a genius…what is this shape doing to me?” 

“You know,” Jan said, “this reminds me of my cousin Elmer.” 

“He was a rabbit?” Rini said, not taking her eyes off the odd creature. 

“No, no…he used to hunt them. Very keen on rabbit hunting, was Cousin Elmer. No good at it, but keen. He had this idea about how it would be clever to follow the rabbit down its rabbit hole…it was three years before he returned, and by then he was quite mad, I’m afraid. All he’d talk about was how some Queen or other tried to cut his head off and turn it into a croquet ball, and then he’d suddenly scream about ‘Wabbits! Wabbits in waistcoats! I must be wevvy wevvy caweful!” The gnome sighed. “And the mere sight of a carrot would send him into a spasm…a tragic fate. Let’s hope we don’t wind up like that.” 

“Nah, no worries about that, Doc,” the Rabbit said. “I know the deed’s been done, and that’s just swell! So, the kiddie is cured, and much good may it do you.” He giggled insanely and took another bite of the carrot. “Guess that’s all, folks! Byeeeeee!” With that, he turned around and swiftly hopped off into the shadows. 

“What I’d really like to know at this point,” Rini mused, “is who that mysterious masked rabbit was. But I guess it has to wait. Let’s go see little Jaella, right?” She grinned at her friend. “I bet Lissa will be really grateful too.” 

Not long thereafter the gnome and the half-elf entered the Jansen family home, fortunately not having to answer any of the gargoyle’s riddles this time around. The twins didn’t seem to be about, but Ma Jansen was. As she noticed the solemn look on the elderly gnome woman’s face, Rini’s heart sank. _Oh no…what if The Hidden lied to us? Or if we were too late?_

Jan must have had something similar on his mind. “Ma?” he asked. “Is Jaella…is she all right? And Lissa?”

“Well, yes,” Ma Jansen said, with an attempt at a smile. “That dear little girl seems fully recovered, all of a sudden she just sat up in bed and said she wanted her dolly and some turnip tea.”

“Then what…”

“Lissa is upstairs. Why don’t you go upstairs and talk to her? Perhaps you can make her see sense…” 

Jan frowned at that, but he didn’t make any comments. Instead he ran upstairs, and despite her longer legs Zaerini had to make a real effort to keep up with him. The bedroom was much as she remembered it, with odd contraptions lining the walls and littering the floor. And there was the large round bed too, but Jaella was no longer lying on it. Instead, the little girl was sitting on the floor, playing with some ancient-looking stuffed animals that she had probably borrowed from the twins. When she noticed the two strangers her eyes went very wide and round, and she went to hide behind her mother. 

“Jan!” Lissa said, smiling brightly. “Jan, thank you ever so much! Jaella is well again!” Her blue eyes were wet with unshed tears, and her large nose was quivering slightly with excitement. She was wearing a pair of earrings that she hadn’t before, Rini noticed. Solid gold, from the looks of it, very heavy and with little sapphires in. “Jaella, say hello to Jan!” 

“’ello,” Jaella said in a tiny voice, still refusing to look up. 

“You know I’d do anything to help you, Lissa,” Jan said, and Rini thought she noticed a faint blush in his cheeks. “If there is anything else I can do for you…anything at all…” 

“Um…no, I don’t think so,” Lissa said, chewing on her thumbnail. “See, now that everything’s sorted out, I’ll just…” 

At that moment there came the sound of raised voices from downstairs. One of them was definitely male, and it sounded angry enough to chew through rocks. “Oh!” Lissa exclaimed, putting her hand across her mouth. “I’d better go. Jan, I think that perhaps you should stay upstairs.”

“Lissa?” Jan said, sounding uncertain in a way that Rini had never heard before. “Lissa, what are you saying?”

“You wouldn’t understand, Jan,” Lissa impatiently told him. “Vaelag is here to get Jaella and me. Come along now Jaella, that’s a good girl…” Jaella sighed, but obediently rose from the floor. 

“Vaelag?” Now Jan sounded almost as angry as shocked. “Why? What is happening?”

Lissa didn’t answer, she simply went out the door without meeting Jan’s eyes, holding her daughter by the hand. 

_Oh crap_ , Rini thought. _I think the happy ending to this story just went down the sewer._

_That small female is prepared to go back to the male who hurt her little one?_ Softpaws didn’t hiss out loud, but the mental hiss was clearly audible. _Are you sure it was not her head that got hit?_

_I don’t know…come on, we’d better catch up with Jan._

Jan was already halfway down the stairs, and by the time Zaerini caught up with him he had reached the ground floor and was confronting a strange gnome who had to be Vaelag. Vaelag was…polished. He had regular features, eyes bright as buttons, and very slick, shiny hair that had been neatly combed back. He was wearing very fancy clothes too, compared to what you usually saw in the Slums District, and was toying idly with a gold pocket watch. Two very burly half-orcs flanked him. Both were armed with spiked clubs and looked as if they knew very well how to use them. At the other side of the room Ma Jansen was holding one twin by each hand, and her mouth had transformed into a thin and disapproving line. 

“Vaelag, you aren’t welcome here,” Jan said. “Now, I don’t know if you tricked, threatened or outright broke your way in, but unless you leave right now you’ll soon have a hole in your head that all of your money won’t be able to stuff.” 

Vaelag simply smirked. “Ah, Jansen! Always one for making empty threats and empty promises. Did you tell Lissa that your so-called ‘magic’ was what cured Jaella? She recovered on her own. No thanks to you.”

Lissa’s lips were trembling, and Jaella was hiding her face in her mother’s skirts. “Leave him alone, Vaelag. He was only trying to help me.”

“You listen, girl, this is between me and him.” Vaelag’s bright eyes turned even harder than before. “He's been trying to steal you from me ever since we first met.”

Jan smiled coldly and raised his crossbow until it pointed directly at Vaelag’s nose. “Why don't _you_ listen, Vaelag. I'll keep it simple so that it won't leave you furrowing your brow in a vain attempt to understand. Get out of this house now and I won't gut you like the pig that you are. Was that clear enough?”

The two half-orcs raised their clubs, but Vaelag made a small gesture with one finger, and they hesitated, snarling. “You've been away too long, boy. You don't know whom you're talking to. Guards! Take him outside. And Jansen…if you fire that thing, my guards will make certain that there are consequences. You still have family to think of…don’t you?”

“No!” It was Lissa, and now she stepped between the two men. “Both of you stop it! You're frightening the children. Vaelag, please wait outside. I'll thank these people for showing me hospitality while you were busy.”

“Very well.” Vaelag took out a small handkerchief, then dabbed at his nose. “Be quick, I can't stand the stench of these slums for much longer.”

The door shut behind him, and Rini thought she could hear laughter coming from the other side. 

“Lissa?” Jan asked, and now there was a pleading note in his voice that the bard really resented the other woman for putting there. “Lissa, what is happening?”

“She sent for him as soon as Jaella got better,” Ma Jansen said, her face stony. “You two need to talk…meanwhile, I’m taking the twins upstairs. They don’t need to listen to this.”

Lissa managed to look simultaneously angry, tearful and peevish. “Oh Jan…don’t fret so! Vaelag wants me back.” 

_And you want more jewelry, I think_ , Rini thought. _Enough to gamble the life of your own child, perhaps._

“Why?” Jan asked, trying to grab the woman he loved by the hand. She neatly avoided him, and he let his own hand fall to the side. “Why? Did you not leave him because of his cruelty?”

“He has apologized. He won't be cruel to us again.”

None of Jan’s warnings or attempts to sway Lissa’s mind worked. She adamantly defended her husband against all accusations, saying that he had promised to change his ways and never harm his family again, and that she would be leaving with him. Finally, Jan was forced to give up. 

“Go if you must,” he said, looking suddenly very weary. “I'm sorry that I couldn't offer more help to you.”

Zaerini waited a few moments, taking the time only to reassure Jan that she would be right back. Then, she ran after the departing family. “Excuse me, Mr Vaelag,” she told the gnome, making sure to use her brightest smile. “Just one small thing, since you mentioned ‘consequences’. I hear tell that you’re a changed man, and I hope that is so. Because if you’re not, then I’d be very disappointed, and I’d have to take steps. Now, you probably don’t care much about what I say, and that’s fair enough, since I don’t care about what you say either. I just wanted you to know, that’s all.” Then she turned around and went inside again, to find Jan sitting despondently on a chair, staring into the floor. The sight was enough to make her want to cry. “Jan?” she said, patting the gnome on the shoulder. “Jan, is there anything I can do to help?”

“Just want your opinion on something, Your Worship,” Jan said, still looking down. “Do you think she was right? Will he harm her again? Or Jaella?”

“I don’t know,” the half-elf admitted. “But I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he did, he seems a pretty ruthless sort.” 

“And do you think she really loves him? Or did he just scare her into taking him back? He could have done that, couldn’t he?”

“Maybe,” Rini said, trying to sound neutral. She wasn’t certain what was the right thing to say at the moment. After all, she couldn’t know. “I don’t really know either of them. But I’m sorry things had to turn out this way.” 

“Yes,” Jan said. “But one thing’s for sure. If that turnip-hating scum-sucker ever so much as lays a finger on Lissa or Jaella again, he will regret it, in one way or another. I’ll hope for the best…but I think I’ll prepare for the worst, just in case.” 

-*-

It was another beautiful day in the City of Athkatla. The sky was blue, the sun was shining, the rats were squeaking merrily in the alleyways, and even the assorted beggars, thieves and murderers who crowded the streets had an almost cheerful look about them, as if at any moment they might break out in a musical song-and-dance number complete with amusing fake accents. Granted, they’d likely be throwing daggers rather than flowers. 

_In other words, the perfect day for crawling through stinking sewers_ , Jaheira thought, wrinkling her nose at the thought of what awaited. _Granted, it is sensible to lay low for a little while, but I would much have preferred to do so in the sweet embrace of Nature, rather than in the accumulated waste matters of Civilization._ Of course, there was the matter of Edwina’s Geas to be dealt with, and so Jaheira could understand why Zaerini wanted to get that out of the way before attending to anything else. That didn’t mean she had to like it though. 

The Temple District of Athkatla was very extensive, and Jaheira knew that it held temples of just about all the major human deities, and some non-human ones. Straight ahead she could see the vast structure of the temple of Helm, with its gleaming copper dome, and the symbol of the Allseeing Eye proudly displayed. Beyond that she could glimpse the gold and pink colors of Lathander the Morninglord, decorating a temple that mostly reminded her of a very gaudy wedding cake. Further away, across the many little bridges and canals that crisscrossed this part of the city, she could hear the distant rumble of thunder, despite the clear sky. That would be coming from the temple of Talos. And there were others, so many others. Tyr, Selune, Mystra, Oghma, Ilmater, Tymora…too many for her to visit every single temple in a day. There were darker temples as well. Beshaba. Mask. Even Cyric. Jaheira privately vowed to make certain Zaerini stayed out of that one, no matter what. 

“I should pay a visit to the temple soon,” Anomen mused, speaking so quietly that she almost didn’t hear him. She knew which temple he meant, of course. To him, there could only be one. 

“I am certain Helm will hear you if you speak to him, Anomen, in the temple or not,” she said, similarly quiet to keep the conversation private. She suspected that the young man had not meant to speak out loud and might be embarrassed if all the others heard. Fortunately, the two of them were at the back of the party at the moment, and nobody seemed to have noticed. 

“Ah…I wish I had your confidence in such matters, Lady Jaheira,” the boy said, smiling a little ruefully. “I fear that doubt is my constant companion though. I strive to serve my Lord Helm as best I can, but I feel I never quite meet his expectations.” 

“His expectations, Anomen?” Jaheira asked. “Or yours?” _And I am not quite as confident as you think. I do what I think is right, but I do not know anymore. Not like I used to. Or…did I ever, really?_ She hastily tried to banish the thought. “Helm still grants you power, and more so than when we first met, is this not so? Surely, he has faith in you, even if you do not?”

“I suppose you are correct,” Anomen said. “I had not thought of it quite that way before. I have to wonder if such faith is misplaced though, and even thinking that is surely heresy of the worst kind!” He sighed. “Well, my Test shall be upon me soon enough, and then I will know for certain, one way or the other. I have strived to act righteously. I can only hope it will be enough.” He scratched nervously at his beard. “And I hope Helm does not disapprove too much of our associating with that…that teacher of Edwina’s. I simply do not trust that man, no matter what the Lady Zaerini says.” 

Jaheira had to agree with that, up to a point. She had no doubt that the assassin was dangerous, and she would by far have preferred to have Zaerini stay as far away from him as possible. Not to mention that there was something about him that simply annoyed her, something that prickled at the base of her spine and made her feel as if there was some sort of huge joke at her expense going on. “Perhaps,” she said. “But all the same, I cannot believe he would do anything to harm Edwin. At the moment, that would seem to mean that Zaerini also is safe. Apart from that we shall simply have to wait and see what we can learn of him, if we are to be forced to put up with him. 

That did not seem an imminent problem though. Once the business with the Githyanki had been settled, Dekaras had disappeared again, explaining that he was expected elsewhere, but that he would stay in touch and supply whatever aid he could. Edwina had moped for several hours after he had gone and was only now starting to return to what passed for normal in a gender-transformed Red Wizard with an ego the size of the planet. 

Jan had been down too, and that Jaheira could well understand, having heard the tale of what had transpired with Lissa. _Such a foolish woman. She had a chance at true love but was too blind to see what lay directly in front of her nose. Even worse, it was she who blinded herself, throwing away what she was given, for the sake of coin. Most of us only get one chance too…as I did with Khalid._ Thinking of her husband still hurt, but now she could at least do so without immediately seeing his poor mutilated corpse in front of her. _I will avenge him. Irenicus will pay for what he did._ She had to believe that. _Silvanus, make it so._

It was at this point that Jaheira looked up to see a man walking calmly towards them. He was wearing plain priest robes and had a perfectly ordinary face. Or rather, he had had a perfectly ordinary face, right up until the point when somebody had torn both of his eyes out of his skull, leaving only the empty sockets behind. The wounds could not be fresh, or else a cleric must have healed them, for the scars were fairly smooth and pale. But if a cleric had performed a healing, it could not have been a very powerful one, since the eyes had not been fully restored. Jaheira certainly thought she would be able to carry out such a healing at this point, as long as the wound was fresh and the eyes themselves not destroyed, and she knew that there were priests who could perform even greater feats. Then she noticed something odd. Despite his blindness, the man walked easily through the crowd, never even coming close to bumping into anybody. Perhaps he had practiced for a long time or had an excellent sense of hearing, but he still seemed unusually skilled for a blind man, not even needing the aid of a staff to lean on. 

Then she noticed the second blind man, also with his eyes torn out, standing on a street corner quietly chatting with a young acolyte of Waukeen. The young man looked hesitant, but still interested. _And…guilty?_

“Did you see that, my lady?” Anomen quietly asked. 

“I did, yes. And look – a third one.” Indeed, there was a third eyeless man. This one was standing on a soapbox right in the middle of the street outside the very front door of the temple of Lathander. He was a middle-aged man, his hair graying at his temples, and he had a handsome face, strong and regular. As he turned his head, Jaheira stared straight into his empty eye sockets, and she suddenly felt cold, as if a ghast’s slimy hand had stroked her cheek. There was something very wrong about this man, and it was not his disability as such. There was a crowd of about twenty or so people gathered around him, most of them seeming to come from the poorer parts of the city. This, in itself, was not very strange here in the religious quarter. Sometimes priests, especially young and enthusiastic ones, liked to preach to people in the streets, thinking that would bring more converts to whichever god they worshipped. The citizens of Athkatla usually gratefully accepted this as free street theatre. If the priest was good at talking, he might be enjoyable to listen to, but if he was bad, he would bring you even more entertainment if you heckled him well enough. It was a win win situation. The unusual thing here was the rapt look of attention on nearly all the onlookers’ faces. Some looked skeptical, but most seemed to be hanging on the priest’s every word. Jaheira tried to guess what god he might worship, but the plain gray and red robes told her nothing, and she could see no holy symbol displayed. 

“Listen to me, my brothers and sisters...heed my words,” the man cried out. “We have been chosen as the recipients of a most holy miracle, one that should neither be dismissed nor ignored! I, Gaal...I, who have been stripped of my eyes most mercifully, have been shown the truth that has eluded the sighted! The gods that you worship are false gods, icons that serve to increase the wealth of churches and heathens! Listen to them not!”

At this point a priest of Lathander tried to interfere but wasn’t even unable to get close to succeeding. Hold! You speak of blasphemy!” he said. “The Morninglord Lathander has always shown His benevolence and power. His presence amongst us is unquestionable!”

“Is it, priest?” Gaal mocked. “I ask all of you to question, for a moment, if what the priest says is true. Yes, his false god grants him power to fuel his spells, much as any wizard might possess. I say that the churches lie to you! They claim their gods are present when they do nothing other than require your coin to fill their pockets!”

“I wonder how long before this fool is struck by lightning,” Edwina murmured, smirking with some satisfaction. “I may not find trafficking with gods to be much use compared to the supreme Art of magic, but denying their very existence?”

That did not seem about to happen any time soon though. Gaal kept on preaching, and at the despondent question from a woman in the crowd of how she was to live if there were no gods, he smiled broadly. “But there is a god! There is the true god! The Unseeing Eye is here amongst us! He offers the faithful a clarity of vision, the true path to the divine! He offers you protection and succor!”

_And a pair of empty eyes sockets_ , Jaheira thought. _But why? And who is this ‘Unseeing Eye’? I have never heard of any such deity, and surely the ascendance of a new one could not have gone unnoticed?_

“Do not listen to this fiendish seducer of souls!” Anomen suddenly cried out. “He seeks to poison you against the true gods, and surely you will all come to misery if you follow him!” 

“Bah!” a skinny man in threadbare clothes scoffed. “What has your god ever done for me? I'm poorer and no better off than I ever was!”

“Don't speak to the priest in that tone!” said a young, nervous-looking woman. “The gods will be offended!”

“Don't you hear what he's saying? There are no gods to be offended! I say we see what this Unseeing Eye has to offer!”

“Aye!” agreed a young man standing close to Jaheira. “I wish to see!”

Gaal smiled again, and once again the druid felt that coldness emanating from him, along with the sensation of something clammy touching her. “No, my friends...you do not wish to 'see'. Forget what the years of lies have taught your eyes! You wish to 'know'. You wish to 'learn'. These are the truths that the Unseeing Eye can offer to you. A truer gift that you'll not find amongst any of these other so-called deities. Come, witness the miracle of the truth! Come and behold the Unseeing Eye for yourself and see the true god that is present amongst us!”

“Have you not a single ounce of brain among you?” Jaheira snapped, raising her voice as much as she could. “This man is asking you to follow him to who knows where, and to pluck your own eyes out? And none of you find this even remotely strange?”

“Don’t bother with these idiots, Jae,” Zaerini said, shrugging. “Just let them walk off and mutilate themselves if they’re stupid enough to do that in the name of religion. It’s nothing to do with us.”

“You do not understand, child. It is my duty as a servant of my god to speak up in a situation such as this.”

“Well, you did. And they’re ignoring you, see? Just let it be, they don’t want to listen to you.” 

Unfortunately, this did indeed seem to be the case. Not everybody in the crowd was ready to follow the blind priest, but a large number of them appeared very enthusiastic about doing just that. As Gaal walked off, they trailed after him in a neat little flock. _Like sheep led by a sheep dog. Except in this case, I think the sheep dog is really a wolf._ The Lathander priest returned to his temple, looking despondent. And no wonder, one of his own young acolytes had been caught up in the crowd and was following Gaal. Anomen looked almost as dismayed as the Lathanderite did, and Jaheira could understand him. 

“That was all very strange,” Minsc said. “Minsc knows that gods exist, because pretty Mielikki watches out for Minsc and Boo and makes sure we always have nice dreams at night. Also, she guided Minsc to Boo, and for that Minsc will always be grateful.” 

“I think I would make a fine god,” Jan mused. “The Great God Jan…doesn’t that sound excellent and impressive, Your Worship? I would make certain everybody paid their respects to the Holy Turnip every evening too, and griffins would be outlawed.”

“Um…I don’t think it’s quite that simple, Jan,” Zaerini said. 

“Not crowd pleasing enough? Hm, how about if I outlawed taxmen too?”

“Hm…that actually might work…” 

“Pah,” Edwina said, wrinkling her nose. “The only possible choice for imminent godhood here is of course myself, seeing that I am already well on my way. (Apart from my Hellkitten of course. I would happily worship her, much as I prefer her in a more…accessible form. But then again, there are many forms of worship.)”

“Yes, Dread Wizard,” the bard said, grinning. “Of course you would make a lovely god. God of what though? Adorable smugness? Sure beats ‘murder’ any day if you ask me…” 

Edwina opened her mouth as if to retaliate, but she didn’t have the time to do so. Another priest had walked up to the party. This one was wearing full plate armor, and on its chest, he proudly displayed a gauntleted hand, with an open eye in its center. A Helmite, then. “You there,” he said. “You are young Anomen Delryn, are you not? I heard you speak up against this…this blasphemer! Helm requires your presence in the Temple at once – the Watcher will have need of your services.”


	90. Sewer Safari

**Cards Reshuffled 90 – Sewer Safari**

_It is very weird, the odd mixture of people you meet down sewers. You may expect to encounter anything from paladins to demons, really. Strangely enough though, you never, ever encounter a proper bathroom, which is usually what you wish for more than anything else while walking around sewers…_

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Remind me again,” Edwina said, “why this is supposed to be a good idea?”

“Because I am a servant of Helm!” Anomen said, still red-faced with indignation over what Oisig, the High Watcher of said deity had told the party only half an hour earlier. “I cannot stand idly by as these charlatan so-called priests of this…this ‘Unseeing Eye’ corrupt the souls of this city. Putting their own eyes out, blinding themselves to the truth? ‘tis a vileness that I cannot abide, and it would be my duty to oppose such wickedness even had the High Watcher himself not specifically asked me to.”

“Who cares if the assorted simians of this wretched city want to poke their eyes out? All religious cults tend to replace brains with holy quotes anyway; they are for those too ignorant or cowardly to think for themselves. (Although I must say, the worship of Sharess does have some attractive traits.)” The wizard gave her robes a critical look and hitched them up a little higher. “Sewer slime…how lovely.”

“This is not a normal religion, and you know it,” Jaheira said. She didn’t look directly at the wizard; instead she peered into the dark tunnel ahead, gripping her quarterstaff firmly. “No new deity who might be called ‘The Unseeing Eye’ has arisen. Whoever is behind the disappearance of all these people is lying to them, using them for some sinister purpose.”

“And this should interest me why? Let the fools rot, I say. We have our own affairs to attend to.” 

“Well,” Zaerini said, “we were going down here anyway, to look for those bones, and for Mekrath. And the High Watcher did say he’d give us a reward if we could fix his problems. If we run into this Unseeing Eye at the same time as we take care of our own business, so much the better. It can’t hurt to look. And if we run into this ‘Sir Keldorn’ who the High Watcher said was looking into the cult, he might even be able to help us out with our own problems in return for the favor. Not to mention that his wife was friends with Anomen’s sister, so he might be able to help with that situation as well.”

Edwina muttered something about how the temple would most likely consider a pat on the head and a blessing a generous reward, but then subsided into silence. Rini took the opportunity to look around. There had been no difficulty finding an entrance to the Temple District sewers, and they had climbed down without too much difficulty. The sewers themselves had been fairly typical. Damp, dark, and very smelly, with rats scurrying about in droves. The worst part so far had been when they accidentally stumbled across a bloated fat rat, easily as large as a pony. It had been blind, completely white, and with only short stumps instead of legs, and its smaller, equally twisted offspring crawled all over its belly, nursing. The soft, squealing noises had seemed to scrape directly across her brain, and Jaheira had gone quite green in the face and declared the animals to be abominations, created by some form of magical contamination. Everybody had been immensely grateful about the fact that Edwina had memorized several fireball spells the previous night. 

This part of the sewers had less rats, but more human waste matter. It didn’t content itself with floating down the grooves designed for it, it must occasionally flood the walkways, judging from the encrusted stains on the floor. A faint, green miasma hung in the air here, stinging both eyes and skin. Zaerini thought it intensely unfair that her nostrils hadn’t gone numb yet. She also wondered why anybody, wizard or not, would want to live down here. Perhaps it was cheap, rent-wise, but still… 

“Oy! You there, suckers! This be a toll bridge, so ye’d best be prepared to pay!” The shout had come from a little further up the tunnel, across a narrow bridge, and now Rini could make out the speaker as well. He was a heavily armoured dwarf, one of two who looked like identical twins. Behind him stood a human man, wielding a hammer, who had the Dark Sun of Cyric displayed on his plate mail, and she could just make out a fellow in mage robes in the back of the group. She thought the original colour of the robes had probably been purple, but now they might best be described as ‘organic’. 

“Toll bridge?” the bard asked, her voice incredulous. “What do you mean, ‘toll bridge’? This is a sewer!”

“Do not bother with speaking to them, child,” Jaheira said, glaring contemptuously at the strangers. “They are common bandits out to rob us, that is all. Probably not to bright either, there cannot be many likely victims down here.” 

“Boo says he cannot see the troll,” Minsc said, thoughtfully rubbing his shaved head. “But Minsc knows how these things are done! If there is a troll bridge, there should be a goat around, and the goat can push the Evil Troll into the river! It is an old tale from Rasheman, my mother told it to me more than once. We do not have a goat, but we could perhaps stick little horns on Boo?”

“Or on the gnome,” Edwina said. “He certainly has the beard for it.” 

“Unlike you, Red?” Jan replied, smiling sweetly. “Didn’t know you still missed yours, but I could certainly make you a fake one, from the finest griffin fur, as long as you hunt one down for me. Now the finest fur comes from the…” 

“Guys!” Zaerini said, raising her voice a little. “The bandits? Remember? We are here to ambush them after all, not chatter like this.” She was pleased to notice the confused look in the leading dwarf’s eyes. 

“Ambush?” he said. “What do ye mean, ‘ambush’, it be us that be here to ambush _ye_!”

It was at that moment that the half-elf chose to project her voice right behind the back of the enemy mage. Actually, it wasn’t so much her voice, but the voice of TorGal, the troll chief they had vanquished in Nalia’s Keep. “GRRRROOOAAARRR!” it roared, with a thick trollish accent. “Me TORGAL! Me will CRUSH YOUR SKULLS AND SUCK YOUR BRAINS!” The wizard screeched like a little girl, and reacted instinctively, if not wisely. Tall sheets of flame flared up all around him, spreading out in widening rings in order to catch any enemy approaching. 

_Ooops…_ Rini just had time to think. _Fire and gas…not good!_

The resulting explosion was deafening. Rini managed to catch sight of an intensely white ball of fire, with sickly green edges, and then the pressure wave grabbed hold of her, throwing her through the air until she eventually made hard contact with a sewer wall. She was half unconscious, her ears were ringing, and the fact that she was face down in sewer muck didn’t do much to improve her mood. Eventually, she managed to reassure herself that she was not dead, and to sort her limbs out. They all still seemed to be attached to her body. “Er…guys?” she croaked as she staggered to her feet, trying to straighten out her mucky hair. “Are you all right?” 

“Apart,” Edwina’s hollow voice said, “from having been severely crushed by a heavy oaf in full plate mail, yes, never better.”

“I can hardly be blamed for landing on you,” Anomen retorted, as he moved aside and then pulled the wizard to her feet. “But I thank you for the soft and gentle cushioning of my fall all the same.” 

“Bah! You do not deserve to so much as come into close contact with my glorious body, far less mangle it with your fat, metal-encrusted bottom, helmet-head!”

“My bottom is not fat! I’ll have you know that my body has been honed to perfection during hours of patient and painful daily exercises!”

“Your pathetic attempts at dissembling are really laughable, Helmite. What was your favourite exercise, fork-lifting?”

“That is a foul lie! My lady, surely my bottom does not look fat in this armor?”

Rini momentarily tuned out the argument to try to get her bearings, only taking the time to reassure Anomen that no, his bottom didn’t look fat to her, and then to reassure Edwina that no, she hadn’t been staring at Anomen’s bottom. The roof had partially caved in ahead of her, squashing the bandits beneath it. All that could be seen of them was the hand of one of the dwarves, still clutching a beautiful battleaxe that she was very glad not to have to face in an open fight. As she watched, the hand twitched one final time, and then went slack. 

“Wow!” Jan said, climbing out of what might be called the sewer ‘water’ if you felt inclined to make things sound nicer than they actually were. “Talk about stinky…thanks for letting me stand on your shoulders, Jaheira!” 

“Jaheira?” Zaerini asked. “Where is…oh.” 

Jaheira looked pretty much stone-faced as she followed Jan onto solid ground. It was a bit hard to tell though, since she was covered in sewer slime from head to toe, like some sort of strange Filth Elemental. “Child…” was all she said, but her voice spoke volumes. 

“Hey, I was only trying to distract them! How was I supposed to know he’d blow everything up?” She grinned a little embarrassedly. “At least they’re all dead now, see? We won’t have to fight them, see? Although I suppose we’ll have to go the other way around now…by the way, where’s Minsc?” 

“Minsc and Boo are here!” the ranger’s voice boomed out from an adjoining corridor. “We had a nice long flight and a quick landing, but Boo told Minsc all about the Saf-ety Reg-ul-ations, so that was fine. Minsc still isn’t sure what an Oxygen Mask is…but at least he landed on this, all safe and sound!” Minsc became visible, walking towards the party with a big smile on his face. He was dragging something along behind him, a shape that at first seemed human. When it became more visible, Rini could clearly see the tiger head though, its dead face frozen in a permanent snarl of surprise and terror. 

_A Rakshasa? Down here? Wait, who am I kidding. Is there ever any logic to which creatures you find running around sewers? I mean, just look at us…_

The Rakshasa turned out to be very dead indeed, his neck snapped by the impact of Minsc’s heavy landing. He also turned out to be wearing an interesting cloak, one that would bestow shapechanging abilities on the wearer. Rini decided to keep this one for herself. Her own ability, apart from the cat form, was mostly illusionary. Some extra shapes couldn’t hurt. 

The party carried on walking along the corridor Minsc had come from, which led into an open room, with several new corridors leading off in different directions. “Right,” Zaerini said. “Ideas, anybody?”

Edwina cleared her throat and hauled out the golden pendulum she had been given by Kangaxx with a self-important look on her face. It swung a little back and forth, and the wizard studied it intently. “That way!” she imperiously said, pointing along one corridor. “The pendulum is quite clear on the subject, that is the ideal path to follow. We will be safe and sound and get those bones in no time.” 

“All right,” the bard said, shrugging. “I suppose it’s as good as anything else. Let’s go.” 

They had walked for about two minutes before they heard the noises. Hissing, gurgling, shuffling noises from both ahead and behind them. Then they could hear the words, only barely audible. 

_Tear…brainssss…bonessss…ssso good to crusssh…to sssuck the marrow…brainssss…brainssssssss…BRAINSSSSS!_

“Zombies,” Jaheira said. “How nice. Tell me, Edwina, once again, about the foolproof trinket that would deliver us safely to those bones.”

“It is safe! It is quite safe! My magnificent magic will undoubtedly make certain that…”

“Shush!” Rini said. “Just be quiet, maybe they will go away.” 

And then a strong male voice rang out from a little further up the corridor, deep and powerful. “TORM TAKE YOU!” 

It was followed by an increased fervour and anger in the zombie hissings, not to mention that there now seemed to be more of them, and that they were coming closer. 

“Or then again,” Jan said, “maybe not.”

-*-

As the party burst out of the tunnel opening, they saw a lone man fighting about a dozen zombies, wielding a powerful two-handed sword. The blade gleamed golden with an inner light of its own, and where it met with rotten flesh the undead screamed and died anew. The man himself was in his later middle age, with silvery white hair and beard that held just a few traces of brown, and his angular face was scarred from many battles. This was no decrepit old man however, but a powerful warrior who held his own ground without too much difficulty. 

And speaking of holding one’s ground, Zaerini thought that she and her friends had better get busy doing the same. There were more zombies coming up from behind, and quite a lot of them from the sound of it. “Anomen!” she whispered, nudging the priest. “Can you do something to repel them?” 

Anomen nodded, and raised the symbol of Helm high, wielding the ‘eye in gauntlet’ in a wide circle. “Stand back, foul creatures of the grave!” he cried out. “Stand back or face the punishment of the Watcher!” Bright white light flared from the symbol, and then from Anomen himself as well, illuminating the healer as if he himself had become filled with the deity. _And in a way_ , Rini thought, _I guess he has._ She could admit to a small sting of envy towards anybody having such a free and easy connection with a deity. It wasn’t as if Bhaal exactly was somebody she wanted to invite in unless she absolutely had to. The zombies stopped in their tracks, screaming in their hissing voices, trying to shield their eyes. A few of them had the time to turn and flee but did not get far before a few Magic Missiles from Jan and Edwina took them down. The rest…the rest burned. One after one, the zombies simply burst into flame, evaporating into nothing more than ashes and a few chunks of charred flesh. When it was over, Anomen leaned against the tunnel wall, breathing heavily. 

“Are you well?” Jaheira asked, sounding concerned as she steadied the younger healer. 

“Aye…” Anomen whispered. “More than well, my lady. Helm…has granted me more of his power than before.” He smiled at the others, and Rini thought she could glimpse wetness in his eyes for a second. “I believe…I am on the right path after all.” 

“I never doubted it,” the half-elf replied, grinning. “And now, let’s go talk to that fellow over there. He looks a little excited.” 

The old knight certainly seemed to be in a tense mood, even despite having skewered a couple of remaining zombies with almost ridiculous ease. As the party approached, he half raised his sword, eying them warily. “Halt and go no further, laymen!” he called out, in a deep voice that was felt in the bones almost as much as heard in the ears. It reminded Rini a little of Sarevok, that way, although this warrior didn’t seem as keen on spikes as her brother had been. Rather, he wore plate mail that was a very unflattering bright orange, with pink highlights. “There be a grave evil here,” the knight continued, “the source of which I have yet to find. Please, forgive the harshness of my tone, but state your business in this place.”

“Orange armor?” Edwina said, sounding incredulous. “With _that_ complexion? Clearly this individual has to be colorblind, or possibly senile. There is no other reason for such a crime to be committed against my sensitive eyes. (Sometimes I wonder if my Hellkitten and I are the only people equipped with taste in this city.)” 

“Er…never mind that,” Zaerini said, smiling brightly at the scowling warrior and willing him to lower his sword. “It’s been a long day…or a long morning actually.” She waved at the knight. “Hi there! We’re just adventurers, sent to clear these sewers of a terrible scourge.” She made certain her voice took on an appropriately dramatic and heroic note. “Yes indeed, we are seeking the Terrible Evil of the Unseeing Eye, wherever it may lurk, to put it out most heroically and restore Purity and Goodness to the world.” Then she spoke in her normal voice again. “Also, the temple of Helm said they’d pay if we did it. Are you Sir Keldorn Firecam by any chance? High Watcher Oisig in the temple of Helm said you’d already gone down here to investigate the situation?” 

The knight nodded. “I am indeed Sir Keldorn Firecam,” he said. “As a paladin of the Order, I have been sent to search out the evil that preys on my brothers in faith. And who might you all be?”

“Sir Keldorn!” Anomen stepped forward, puffing his chest out proudly, but Rini could hear that there was the smallest nervous tremble in his voice. “I am Anomen Delryn, priest of Helm and squire of the Order, I believe you will remember me. I will vouch for my companions.” At this, he gave Edwina a brief look, but continued on undaunted. “Though from different paths and stations in life, we share a common goal, and mean no harm here.” 

“That’s right,” Zaerini added in. “Say…it seems we have a mutual interest here; don’t you think? Maybe we could help each other out.” She went on to introduce herself and her other companions. “Of course,” she said, “we have a couple of other things we need to fix as well down here, previous engagements you see. But if you want to come along, I’m sure another warrior could be very useful.” 

Keldorn thought this over for a moment. “It is a solid tactic,” he agreed. “Very well. I shall be happy to lend my sword to your cause.” 

“Oh, joyous news!” Minsc said, giving Keldorn such a hearty slap on the back that the old knight had to cough violently for a minute. “Yet another Hero of Goodness joins our group, coming to help with the poking of Evil Eyes, rescuing of actors from Evil Actorstealing Wizards, or collecting of Evil Bones!” 

“Actors?” Keldorn wheezed. “Bones?”

“Yes,” Jaheira said with a small sigh. “We were just getting to that part…” 

Once Keldorn had been given a brief summary of what was going on, he explained that he had been searching the tunnels for some time now, but that so far he had only come across random monsters, and seen no sign of the cult of the Unseeing Eye. Wherever they were hiding, it wasn’t in this part of the sewers. “I believe there must be a way to their nest though,” he said. “A secret passage, perhaps.” 

“Well, why didn’t you say so before, Keldy!” Jan said, his eyes twinkling. “Nothing escapes the sharp eyes of a Jansen, you know.” 

“Because they’re so close to the ground?” Edwina sweetly asked, twining a lock of dark hair around her fingers. She then gave her hand a disgusted lock as she noticed just how grimy it was. “Accursed filth…this is a medical emergency, I need shampoo! (Although I suppose there’s no likelihood of there being hot water available down here.)”

“Don’t gripe,” Rini murmured, slipping her arm around the wizard’s waist. “Besides, I think you look beautiful, even if you’re dirty. And you’re not as filthy as I am, anyway.” 

“That is true,” Edwina said, giving her an appraising look. “However, that can easily be arranged, in case you wish to pass some of it on by contact. Close contact.” 

“Not down the sewers with all our friends and a paladin watching, ‘Dwina.”

“Who cares about them? (Perhaps just a brief little cuddle could be arranged, there are so many nooks and crannies down here after all.)” Edwina’s smile turned suddenly very smug. “You want to. I know you do. How could you possibly resist these lips? This face? This body? (Not quite as perfect as my regular one, but still.)”

“Oh, all right then. Don’t blame me.” The kiss was brief, but still satisfying, and had Edwina gasping for breath while it was done, making little strangled noises. 

“I told you I was filthy,” Rini said, winking at her. “Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Yes…but…bah! I cannot be expected to be an expert on dirt, now can I? Not with my breeding.” Then she looked hopeful. “However, I think by now my nostrils ought to be permanently stunned, so perhaps you’d like to…”

“Later, Dread Wizard. Later.” 

Jan turned out to be as good as his word. Having wandered the corridors back and forth for some time, he came up with no less than three possible paths to take. One was a locked door, but unfortunately, he was unable to pick the lock, despite several attempts, and it also resisted all attempts at opening it magically. The second was also a locked door. This one yielded more easily, and beyond it the adventurers could see a narrow staircase leading down into darkness. As for the third, this was a secret entrance, cleverly concealed so that it seemed a part of the tunnel wall. Beyond it lay a dark tunnel, with no hints as to where it led. 

“So…” Rini said. “Guess we’ll just have to take our chances.” She entered the tunnel, after summoning a small globe of mage light that swirled around her head. “Anybody coming?” 

The tunnel ended up in front of yet another door, also locked. This one was easily picked by Jan however, and it seemed to be the final obstruction. From here, stairs led upward, ever upward. 

“This is funny,” Minsc said. “We go down from temple and come to sewers, then we go up from sewers, but Boo says we’re already above where temple should be.”

“You’re right,” Rini said, frowning. “It is odd…and there’s something about these stairs. It’s almost like I recognize them, but that has to be impossible.”

“I know what you mean,” Jaheira agreed. “There is something strangely familiar about this place, is there not?”

“And the structure of it is all wrong,” Edwina said. “This is a spiral staircase, of a kind you would expect to find inside a tower, and it feels like a tower otherwise as well, but I am positive there is no such edifice close enough to the sewer entrance we descended through.” 

“There is magic afoot here, of that I am certain,” Keldorn grimly said. “I fear that this place may be more than it appears to be at first glance. And look at that.” He pointed at a small window, situated a bit further up the wall. “See? There is the sky, and the sun, but even if we had already gone high enough to be above ground level, the sun should not be in that direction. I do not know where we are, but I believe it is not the Temple District of Athkatla. We have been transported somewhere else entirely.” 

Rini thought about this, and she picked up Softpaws and held the cat closely in order to try to feel a little calmer. “You could be right,” she said. “But let’s go a little further all the same and see what we find out. I guess these Unseeing Eye people might be able to pull a trick like this off, or else it could be that wizard, Mekrath. And if it is, we want to find them after all. Let’s just be very careful.” 

At the top of the stairs, they came to a round tower chamber. This also seemed very familiar, down to every last bit of dusty and moth-eaten furniture in the place. Doors led off into different directions, and Zaerini could just glimpse a library behind one of them, with faint candlelight gleaming off the backs of leather-bound books. In the central chamber they were standing in, there was a large fireplace, a few dingy old armchairs, and an ancient bearskin rug. And there…yes, there it was. A very nice suit of armor, dwarven sized, and she could recognize the crest on the breastplate. “I can’t believe this,” she whispered. “And here I thought we were rid of this place for good.” 

“Apparently not,” Edwina said, staring fixedly at an old chessboard that had been set up on a table near one wall. “Well, at least the old tenants should no longer be here.”

“But there will be something else,” Jaheira said. “There always is, in such a place.” 

“Durlag’s Tower,” Rini said, sighing again. “Isn’t this just great…we’re in Durlag’s Tower all over again.” 

A cackling screech interrupted her, and then there were suddenly tiny little hands trying to pull her hands out from behind, while her friends had to dodge a flurry of blows, scorching breath and little rays of eyes. She struck at the thing, and managed to hit it, sending it spinning through the air until it struck a wall with an angry squeal. _Mephits! Stupid, pesky, annoying mephits! I hate mephits!_

And then there was Edwina’s voice, chanting something, and she could feel the magical power building up as the wizard’s voice took on a chilling, menacing note. It was as if a cold wind blew silently through the chamber, and then it was followed by a sound almost like gentle rain, as little bodies dropped lifelessly to the ground. “Ah, that sorted them out nicely,” the wizard said, with a smug smile that Rini had to admit was very endearing. “Nothing like a little necromancy for pest extermination, as my mother always says.”


	91. Wizard Checkmate and Knight Gambit

**Cards Reshuffled 91 – Wizard Checkmate and Knight Gambit**

_Open fights are sometimes necessary, but usually I don’t find them to be nearly as much fun as a bit of trickery. There is something very satisfying about having your opponent simply hand over whatever it was that you wanted, swayed by some fast talking and creative applications of lies. And if that doesn’t work, you will at least usually have an interesting story to tell your friends, assuming you survive._

_Basically, I’m really, really glad I’m a bard, and not something else. And of all the things I’d rather not be, being a knight counts among the worst things. Not that all knights are bad or anything, that isn’t the point. They can be really great to have on your side. It’s just that the whole ‘honor unto death’ and ‘unfailing virtue’ thing can be a little difficult to deal with, sometimes even fatal, and I wouldn’t want to have to do it myself._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

The initial exploration of the apparently re-inhabited Durlag’s Tower went without too much difficulty. Three Yuan-Ti were encountered in one of the smaller side rooms, curled up in an armchair each in front of an open fire. Being disturbed wasn’t something that made them happy at all, and as soon as they spotted the adventurers they hissed, rearing up on snake-like bodies in order to attack. One of them turned out to have some magical powers, and his mind-bending powers almost caused Jaheira to brain Jan with her quarterstaff. Fortunately, Keldorn was quick to respond, calling upon the power of Torm to break the spell and return the druid to her senses. The battle went quickly enough after that. 

“Ah, well fought, friend Keldorn!” Minsc said, wiping some blood off Lilarcor, which was chuckling loudly and muttering something very disgusting about spleens. “See how well we kick Evil Butt together, even if in this case the butts went all the way up to the heads? Boo is very pleased.” 

“That…is most kind of him,” the old paladin said, carefully eyeing the hamster. “But…Minsc, do you always fight so…so ferociously? You seemed to lose control of yourself there for a while, and that can be dangerous in a battle.” 

“Oh yes,” Minsc readily admitted. “Dangerous for all Evil Snakes who would threaten Minsc or Minsc’s Witch. Did you see the way the chunks went flying all over, even up to stick in the ceiling?”

“Yes,” Keldorn said, wiping a piece of Yuan-Ti out of his beard. “I did notice that.”

“Well,” Jaheira said, “I must say that although I do not entirely agree with your philosophy, paladin, you did well enough. And it is good to have somebody around who is mature and responsible for once.” She aimed a dark look at Jan, who was trying to flay one of the dead Yuan-Ti, while chatting amiably about what a nice handbag it would make for Ma Jansen. 

“Responsible?” Edwina sputtered. “What with the careless way he tosses around his spells, showing no consideration for those of us who actually know how to handle magic? Look at my skin, just look at it!” 

Keldorn blinked. “I see nothing wrong with your skin, young lady,” he said. “It seems comely enough, as I can judge such things.” 

“Oh yes? Well let me tell you something, you paladinic prat! I had just cast a Stoneskin spell, a very useful magic that makes me more or less impervious to harm, and you just went and dispelled it! Aim better next time, or I may just follow suit. (He’d roast nicely inside that armor, I think.)” 

“Right,” Rini hastily said as she noticed Keldorn’s bushy eyebrows drawing together in anger, “I think that’s about enough of that…let’s move on, shall we?” 

After a few minutes of exploring they reached a small chapel, that Zaerini recognized from her previous visit. Somebody had installed a couple of very nasty traps there, that Jan fortunately enough was able to disarm, but she couldn’t understand exactly what they were supposed to be protecting. There didn’t seem to be anything of value in the room, and eventually she continued onwards. 

“Hey!” Jan’s voice rang out from up ahead. “Look what I found! It’s a statue…no, wait. It’s not, I think he’s alive. I think it’s the actor we’re looking for.” The gnome had discovered a small storage room, and there, stuffed in among sacks of grain and barrels of apples, stood a very odd-looking person whom Rini strongly suspected had to be the abducted Haer’Dalis. He looked a little like an elf, with the pointed ears and sharp features of those folk, but his long and freely flowing hair was a bright and dazzling blue, something that overshadowed even the exotic tattoos on his face. There was something unusual about his eyes as well; they seemed to be shifting color as she looked into them, constantly changing so that she was never quite able to tell what color they actually were. Blue, green, gray, purple, it was impossible to say. He was wearing a tunic of almost exactly the same blue color as his hair, and he wore a pair of twin short swords at his belt. However, he was standing as motionless and rigid as the statue Jan had initially taken him for, staring into empty space, not reacting to anything. 

“Helloooo?” Minsc said, carefully rapping the actor on the head. “Wakey wakey, the heroes are here for the rescue!” 

“He can’t hear you,” Edwina said, snorting. “Obviously, his head is as empty as that vacant look in his eyes would seem to indicate.” 

“Nope, I think it’s some sort of charm spell,” Jan disagreed, peering up at the blue-haired man. “See, the residue’s still there!” 

The two wizards looked intently at the stunned Haer’Dalis, and as Rini followed their example, she could also see something hanging around the man’s head, like an intricate spider’s web. 

_Neutered_ , Softpaws suggested. _Some toms get like that when mean humans take away all their reason for existing. You’d better take care it doesn’t happen to yours when he gets his bits and pieces back._

_Oh, hush, Softy. That’s a disgusting thing to say, and anyway it’s not true. It’s just a spell, I’m sure we can fix him. Er, fix him up, I mean._

That did not seem as easy as she had hoped though. Keldorn’s capacity for breaking magical spells had absolutely no effect. Nor did it work when Jaheira and Anomen tried a few spells for causing clarity of mind, or when Edwina and Jan attempted to outright break through the spell. 

“It is a more complex curse than I had first thought,” Edwina eventually said. “Clearly not all wizards in this country are complete imbeciles. We will need to find the caster of the original spell, only he will be able to remove it.” 

“All right,” Rini said with a small sigh. “Guess there’s no easy way to deal with this – as usual. We’ll just have to go and see if the wizard is home then.” 

And indeed, the wizard was. The adventurers had doubled back through the main chamber of this particular floor of the tower, taking the southern corridor this time, and after a little while they came to the kitchen. Zaerini tried to remember if it had looked this way before, but she couldn’t quite do so. She had tried her very best to forget the specific details about Durlag’s Tower, after all. At any rate, what she currently had in front of her didn’t seem familiar at all; so perhaps this Mekrath person had redecorated. The kitchen was white, blindingly white, and spotless. Cupboards, table, benches, all of it the same glistening perfect white. What wasn’t white was steel, be it door handles, pots, forks or the large array of very sharp kitchen knives hanging on one wall. Rini had never seen anything like it, but her general impression was that this wasn’t really a kitchen. It was a Temple to Food, and the main altar was situated in the center of the room. It rather resembled a large cupboard, but strangely enough it wasn’t wooden, but made from what almost looked like porcelain. Cold radiated from the odd object, cold enough to make the half-elf shiver and hug herself, even at this distance. On top of the cupboard sat a pig, and in front of it knelt a man. 

The pig was fat, almost globular, and a bright pink, and it was clearly a device of some sort, resembling a child’s toy. The man was as fat and as pink as the pig, although in his case the straining and protruding flesh was at least partially hidden by the largest mage robe that Zaerini had ever seen. She suspected that it could probably easily have doubled as a circus tent. Since the wizard had his back to her, she couldn’t see much of him apart from his broad back, but she could hear him loud and clear. “Oh, please Piggy, please be merciful!” he pleaded. “Just a little snack…a tiny morsel…I swear I’ll start my diet tomorrow!” His hand sneaked towards the handle of the odd cupboard, and he pulled the door open. A blast of cold made Rini take an involuntary step backwards, but before she did she could see a searing light bursting forth from the open door, and inside the cupboard she managed to glimpse more food than she had ever seen at one point. The cupboard had to be magical, for the rows and rows of shelves were far too numerous to fit readily inside it otherwise. There were steaks, and heaps of fish, towers of cheeses, vats of creamy butter and long garlands of glistening brown sausages. There was a small mound of chickens, plucked and well fried. There were several jars of what seemed to be different sauces, and one enormous chocolate cake with lots of cherries and whipped cream on top. The bard had to bite her lip in order not to drool when she saw that one. 

“OINK!” squealed the pig accusingly. “OINK! Cheat! Glutton! You know you’re not allowed anything but a rice cake today!” 

“But Piggy, only a few little sausages….please? It was I who created you to guard my food supplies, and you know I trust you to know what’s good for me since I made you that way, but couldn’t you just…”

“OINK! OINK! OINK!” the pig blared, its little eyes glowing a furious red. Rini took advantage of the loud noise to beckon her friends to follow her back to the previous room, before the wizard could spot them. 

“I guess that’s the wizard Mekrath,” she whispered. “I don’t suppose he’ll give up Haer’Dalis willingly – and I’d really rather not have to fight somebody who can open dimensional portals simply in order to get himself regular snacks, and keep another permanent portal open between Athkatla and Durlag’s Tower. But I have another idea that just might work, if you, Jaheira, can do a certain thing that I have in mind.” 

The druid listened carefully, and then she nodded, smiling faintly. “Very well,” she said. “I believe I can do that without too much difficulty.”

”Great…then all I’ll need is a very discreetly cast spell to silence that pig, and I will do the rest.” 

When next the wizard Mekrath opened what he had decided to call his Freezing Refrigerating Icy Device for Good Eating, he was at first pleasantly surprised, for Piggy seemed to have no comment whatsoever to make. Then, however, he got a far less pleasant surprise, as he took a closer look at his precious supplies. Before his horrified eyes, the contents of one plate after the other wilted, then swelled as puffy gray and green mold overtook them, faster than should be possible. The cheeses sweated, the sausages rolled off their plate and transformed into fluffy gray things that resembled rats more than anything else, and the steaks dissolved into a slimy green goo. After a mere few seconds, the only edible thing left in the fridge was the chocolate cake. Mekrath gasped with horror, his pink face turning a chalky white. 

“OINK!” The pig suddenly trumpeted, causing the wizard to startle violently. “OINK! Greedy, greedy! Shouldn’t have done that, you know.” 

“Shouldn’t have…why? What’s wrong?”

“Er…OINK! Contamination! Your prisoner, the unnatural one. OINK! His presence spoils the food and will for as long as he’s near. OINK! Either you get rid of one, or you lose the rest.”

“But…”

“OINK! OINK! The rice cakes are still fresh though.” 

Mekrath shuddered with acute disgust at this. “Don’t…mention the rice cakes,” he said. “One was bad enough. Very well…I have enchanted you myself, I have to trust your word. I will release the pesky thief at once, and if he breaks his neck on the stairs on the way out, so much the better. Serve him right for stealing my gem. And that will help?”

“OINK! Oh yes…just one more thing…” 

Five minutes later the adventurers were on their way back towards the place where they had left Haer’Dalis, hoping that he would now be more talkative than before. Certainly they had seen Mekrath cast the countercurse, so everything should be all right with the actor. And then there was the added bonus. 

“Was it really necessary,” Keldorn asked, “to rob the poor man of his last scrap of food?”

“Aw, don’t worry about it,” Zaerini said, waving her hand dismissively. “He won’t exactly starve to death; he’s got plenty of reserves.” Her eyes longingly went to the large plate that Minsc was carrying. “And besides…it’s chocolate, and everything’s fair when it comes to chocolate. I can’t believe he fell for me telling him that he needed to push the plate out the door in order to provide for the Spirits of Successful Dieting – I guess he’s a pretty desperate man. And that he really trusts that pig thing too.” 

By now they had reached the spot where they had left Haer’Dalis and they now found the blue-haired actor awake and alert, watching them with his glittering and oddly multi-colored eyes. “Ahhh...my head spins with sullen fire and strange, lurid notions instead of memories,” he said, his voice the cultured one you would expect from an accomplished actor. “But...what is this?” He eyed the adventurers curiously. “The sparrow spies his glorious saviors! Oh, what grand joy! Poetry o'erwhelms this sparrow's heart!” He cleared his throat, drew himself up, and started reciting, his hand across his heart. “In a blaze of trumpets, with wicked blades held high, thus came ye fates of chaos to let this sparrow fly!”

“My suggestion,” Edwina said with a grimace with disgust, “is that we leave the fool here, and settle for that cake. It will undoubtedly be far less talkative, and infinitely more tasteful. Not to mention a better poet.” 

-*-

Keldorn wasn’t at all certain what to make of Haer’Dalis. The man wasn’t human, elven, or any other race that the paladin could recognize, but that was the lesser problem. What was far more important was whether he could be trusted or not, and that seemed very unclear. He was like a glittering kaleidoscope, displaying a constant stream of rapidly spinning colors, of patterns forming and dissolving into chaos. One minute he laughed and jested, then he spoke as solemnly as the main character in a tragedy, only to return to another quip, as swiftly as the play of sunlight on water. What he truly was, beneath the dazzling façade, remained uncertain. 

Now, as a paladin, Keldorn knew that his God would grant him the power to see into other people’s hearts, if he so requested. And that was all well and good, but unfortunately it wasn’t quite as easy as it sounded. For one thing, you couldn’t just peep into a person’s head and read their thoughts or be able to easily determine if it was a good person or not. What he could usually say for certain was if the one he faced posed any kind of danger, but if he wanted to see more than that things got complex. So, all he could really say for certain about Haer’Dalis was that the man wasn’t planning to draw the beautiful twin short swords he wielded against his rescuers, and this did not come as much of a surprise. Instead he would simply have to watch the actor, and see what he could make of him, the same as anybody else. 

And so he would have to do about the rest of his current companions as well. An odd group, seemingly mismatched, but he had seen that in battle they worked smoothly together, and they were clearly accustomed to each other’s quirks, and compensated for each other. Minsc might be a simple soul, but seemed to have a great heart as well, even if Keldorn worried somewhat about the ranger’s tendency to lose control of himself in battle. Such behavior was very much discouraged by the Order, which valued discipline and self-control highly, both in battle and out of it. It was hardly his place to rebuke Minsc, since the man was not under his command, but he hoped that perhaps he might at least be able to soothe him a little, should it be necessary. 

Then there was young Anomen, a very different matter indeed, for as a squire of the Order the young Delryn heir was subordinate to him. Keldorn knew the young man of course, if not as well as he would have liked. He had heard that Anomen was hotheaded and stubborn, and far too impressed with himself, and he could see traces of that, but fortunately the rumors seemed to have been exaggerated. _Or perhaps he has grown up a little, during his travels. His Test must be nearly upon him by now, if I count correctly. It cannot be an easy time for him, not with the recent death of his poor sister._ Keldorn sighed quietly as he thought about that. His own wife had known the young woman and had always spoken highly of her. _A terrible tragedy, for one so young to die, and a violent death at that. Would that I could read the hearts of others with certainty, for then I could scour the streets of Athkatla until I found the miscreant that dared commit such a foul deed and then…aye, what then? Strike him down? Convict a man to death on the basis of my own insight? No, Lord Torm is too wise to casually grant His servants such power, for it would be far too easily abused, even by those who seek naught but to do good. Perhaps even more by them._

The half-elven druid, Jaheira, was a welcome part of the group, Keldorn felt. Reliable, dependable, mature, and very capable of defending herself. While she had an acerbic tongue, he did not doubt that she was a warrior after his own heart. He did not envy her the role she played in this party however, for although she was not the formal leader, she clearly felt responsible for keeping the others safe, especially her fellow half-elf. _Not an easy task, I would wager. That girl has a bright head on her shoulders, but she is as wild as a mountain cat. Not to mention far too young to be doing the things she is doing._ It was strange how young everybody he met seemed these days. Once, the world had been filled with stuffy old paladins and priests, all of them seemingly intent on filling his days with various chores and very callous towards a youth’s inclination to scribble naughty limericks in his textbooks rather than study. _Where did they all go? Now, everywhere I turn there are all these…children dressed up as adventurers._

The second young lady of the party worried him more than a little. _A Red Wizard of Thay? What would one of those be doing here, I wonder?_ Now that he thought about it, he had seen another Thayvian only the other day, also a Red Wizard. Some form of evil plot? Well, at least this particular young woman did not seem to be among the worst of her kind. He found her volatile, arrogant and rude, but not utterly depraved at least, or he would not have been able to tolerate her. 

And then there was Jan. Keldorn sighed again, deeper this time, and furiously tried not to think about Jan. As if on cue, the gnome edged closer to him, until he was walking right by the paladin’s side, grinning up at him. “So, knighty, any particular reason why you became a paladin? Seems a bit boring if you ask me, all that constant trying and failing to be perfect. Best way to eventually crack and go loopy I think, which really explains a lot.” 

_I should at least try to educate him. Torm protect me._ “One must maintain constant discipline and remember the four principles of virtue...that is my motto and everlasting burden.” Keldorn hoped this would be enough and tried to focus on where they were going. The staircase leading down from Mekrath’s abode was a very long one, he didn’t want to fall down it. He kept his eyes on Zaerini, who now was tossing a glittering green gem nonchalantly from hand to hand as she walked, ignoring Haer’Dalis’ hungry gaze at the thing. The blue-haired actor had bid his rescuers search for it, saying that if only it would be returned to Raelis she would surely grant a great reward. Zaerini had agreed to this, asking only that he not take off until then. However, after the gem had been found, hidden in a trapped secret compartment in the old chapel they had passed earlier, the redhead had firmly declared that she wasn’t leaving the sewers until she had taken care of her other business there, and that if Haer’Dalis wanted the gem that badly, he’d just have to stick around until she had the time to go and give it back. Keldorn had half expected the man to attack, but instead he had suddenly laughed, and expressed his approval at such a trick. Not that that made Keldorn more comfortable around him. 

Again, that infernal grin from the gnome. “Virtue, eh knighty?”

_Knighty. What have I done to deserve this?_ “Indeed, little one. 'Tis not virtuous to refer to me as 'knighty'.”¨

Jan throw up his hands into the air, rolling his eyes. “Another human with his shorts in a knot and a hang-up about what he’s called. It’s enough to make a poor, innocent little gnome despair. Anyway, Keldy, my mother wrote a book on virtue.”

Keldorn desperately looked at the others, mentally trying to convince somebody, anybody, to interfere with the conversation. Sadly, it seemed that paladins couldn’t do mind controlling any more than they could do mind reading. Granted, it probably wouldn’t have been exactly moral, but surely Torm wouldn’t mind. This was _Jan_. “Did she?” he asked, dreading whatever was to come. 

“Oh, yes. A book on the virtues of erotic love. "Sins of the Flesh Golem", it was called. Excellent sales in the paladin's spouse market.”

Keldorn could feel heat rising in his cheeks, and the fact that Edwina sniggered loudly at the comment did nothing to improve his disposition. “A wholly inappropriate jest, Jan. You should be ashamed.”

“It is no jest,” Jan said, sounding perfectly innocent. “I'll send you a copy, if your wife does not already have one.”

_Maria? No…she would never even so much as touch such a filthy thing!_ “Never speak of my wife, gnome,” he chastised, giving Jan a grim look. “Your lack of respect is appalling. For one thing, there are ladies present here.” 

“Oh, we don’t mind, most noble sir knight,” Edwina said, smirking. “I for one find this conversation both educating and entertaining. (And I must make certain to acquire a copy of the book, if nothing else than to get a good laugh at what these westerners consider to be proper erotica.) I’m sure the others don’t mind either. How about you, my Hellkitten?” 

“Hm?” Zaerini said, sounding a little startled, and she tore her eyes away from her contemplation of the gem. “Oh, sure. No problem.” 

“Jaheira? Are your dainty and virginal ears about to curl up and wither from being subjected to impure literature?” 

Jaheira snorted. “Not unless turnips are in any way involved,” she said. “Or griffins.” 

“There you are. We don’t object.” Edwina’s smirk grew a little wider. “Do continue, Jan. (We all had to suffer through it – the paladin will not escape if I have anything to say about it.)” 

“Why, thank you, Red!” Jan said, and then nudged Keldorn’s hip. “She’s very eager, you know. Don’t let her get you alone. Anyway…” he went on, ignoring Edwina’s sputter of outrage, “'Fleshy, honey,' the paladin said. 'Yes, baby?' said the golem...”

It took Keldorn only about five seconds to decide that the power to ‘Detect Jansens’ would be infinitely more practical than anything concerning the ferreting out of plain, old and mundane evil. Or possibly even ‘Silence Jansens’? Sadly, Torm didn’t seem inclined to grant him that. 

-*- 

“Ah…so you did manage to convince her,” Bodhi purred. “How very clever of you.” The vampire was lying on her stomach on the floor, kicking her legs lightly back and forth in the air. This night, she was wearing a very outlandish costume that seemed composed of a few minimal straps of black leather. She smiled, and there was the glitter of fangs against the ruby red of her lips. However, her eyes remained cold, calculating. “Perhaps I should reward you.” 

“I did as you asked,” Dekaras said, pretending not to notice as the vampire nibbled a little on her own finger until she drew blood, then sucked on it. “The Avariel will, I believe, consent to meet with you eventually, though there is of course no guarantee of this. At least I have made her curious about what you have to offer her.” 

“Mmmm…that is good. You have done well, Mordo. Very well.” Bodhi leapt to her feet, swiftly enough that her shape almost blurred for a moment, as if she had been a puppet and somebody had suddenly yanked at her strings. Yet she was very clearly in control of her body as she glided across the floor towards the assassin, pausing closely in front of him. There was a smell hanging around her, and a strong one. Some cloyingly sweet perfume, but beneath that there was the smell of fresh blood, and the cold dirt of the grave. She reached her hand out to put it on his arm, and he could feel the bitter cold of her body even through his clothes. “I wonder…perhaps I should replace Yoshimo with you. I’m sure you are more amusing than him. How would you feel about that, hmm?” 

“Honored above my station,” Dekaras replied, making certain he stood absolutely still. Being this close to a powerful vampire wasn’t exactly something he enjoyed, but it was important to show no weakness. This was a display of dominance on Bodhi’s part, he thought, so he would be best served by being respectful, yet not intimidated. “I am certain that Yoshimo serves admirably – in whatever capacity you use him for.”

“Are you now? And what if I were to tell you that I’m bored, and long for variety?” 

“I would suggest moderation,” the assassin said. “It is never a good idea to waste a resource, and you can still use Yoshimo. He serves you far better alive than dead or undead, does he not?” _Besides, I would by far prefer him to be your favorite snack, rather than myself. Just call me ungrateful, I suppose._

“I suppose you are right,” Bodhi said, her eyes narrowing a little. “I guess moderation would be wisest.” She slid her arm around his neck, pressing her body closer. The graveyard and blood smell became even stronger than before, only partially obscured by the disgusting perfume. It didn’t seem a good idea to comment on that though, or to show any visible signs of revulsion. “Then again…” Bodhi murmured, “…my dear brother always says that wisdom is not one of my stronger traits.” And then, quick as lightning, she struck, grabbing him tightly even as her icy lips sought his neck. 

Not resisting was probably one of the hardest things that Dekaras had ever done. Every instinct in his body screamed that he should defend himself, even if he knew that the vampire’s physical strength and speed were greater than his own. Still, he forced himself to remain perfectly skill within her grasp, trying not to so much as flinch. _Admit to fear, but do not give in to it. Never give in to it. This needs to be done._ And now he could feel the cold touch of her lips against his skin, smooth as silk and so icy they burned. Then there was the prick of the fangs, and a sharp pain as they pierced the skin. Still, he did not resist. _I can do this. It is the best way, I think._ Now Bodhi had a firm hold of him, and he could feel the searing pain at his neck as she nuzzled at it, one hand cradling the back of his head. _Just a little further._ It was getting harder to think, the rushing sound in his ears was growing steadily louder, and he was having difficulty seeing properly. One treacherous part of his mind wished for the vampire to continue, because painful and frightening as the experience was, there was also something darkly desirable about that enforced closeness, body to body, blood to blood. 

“What…” Bodhi suddenly gasped, pushing him away. “What trickery is this? Answer me!” She was snarling now, blood dripping from her open mouth, and her nostrils flared angrily. 

Dekaras took a moment to steady himself before he answered. He had to lean against the wall in order to keep on his feet, and that was a worrying sign, as much so as the encroaching grayness of his vision. _She is even stronger than I had suspected._ And he could feel the blood still seeping from the wound on his neck, even if he was pressing his hand firmly enough against it. “Thought…you might possibly try something like this,” he whispered. “So just in case you would, I drank some holy water a while before I came here, estimating that the effect would remain within my system long enough. It would seem I was right. Stung your throat a bit, did it? Perhaps you’d better stick to milk for a while.” He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself fully, despite the leaden feeling in his legs. “My services you have, for now. But you will not take what is not freely given, remember that.” 

For an instant, he feared that he had miscalculated, and that Bodhi would attack him, an attack he would be unlikely to survive. Certainly, her eyes flashed dangerously, and her fingers curled into claws. Then, she laughed, a low and throaty chuckle, and she carefully licked the blood off her lips. “You amuse me, Mordo. I will continue to make good use of the services you offer, and I hope you will continue to do so for a long time.” Her smile widened, and there was a reddish glint deep within her dark eyes. “If you are a bad enough boy, perhaps for a _very_ long time. I like bad boys, they have so many uses. Just remember to keep amusing me…” 

_If she thinks I will be her plaything, she is sorely mistaken_ , Dekaras thought. _But it is better that she believes it for now, and I would put up with far worse for Edwin’s sake, and Imoen’s. Though I hope this will be enough to give me what I need. I only have so much blood to spare, after all._


	92. At the Temple Doors

**Cards Reshuffled 92 – At the Temple Doors**

_I wouldn’t want to put religion down, since it can provide great comfort for people. Still, it’s pretty important to be particular about which religion you choose to follow. One good guideline is to avoid those that require you to mutilate yourself in any way, and also those that prohibit visiting the theatre. Some things are just too horrible to accept from any god._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“So, what have we got here?” Zaerini said, ticking items off on her fingers. “A small room with a very heavy metal door on either side of it, and a weird metal contraption in the middle, one with lots of large tubes on. No windows. Call me paranoid if you like, but I don’t like the look of this.” 

The adventurers had delved deeper into the sewers beneath the temple district, taking the passage they had found earlier and then bypassed for Mekrath’s home. The sewers were getting narrower now, as well as darker, and in some places, it was difficult to walk upright. However, the smell wasn’t quite so bad, nor were there any waste products present, indicating that this part of the sewers wasn’t currently in active use. The only real obstacle so far had been an attack by shadowy, floating undead, dark and shapeless beings with a chill touch that leeched the strength from their victims. Minsc had been heartbroken when he found himself temporarily unable to lift Lilarcor, but once again Anomen’s link to Helm had served well, enabling him to turn the undead aside, even destroying some of them. 

“There will be a trap,” Edwina said, trying to peer across the threshold of the open door in front of her. Not that she knew what to look for, but she felt the urge to contribute. “If these foolish blind cultists have set up their headquarters down here, as seems likely, they won’t want to leave the way open to intruders. (Personally, I would prefer a pleasant island paradise to these noxious sewers, but then I am in possession of actual intelligence.” She was still very much annoyed with the disgusting smells clinging to her and promised herself to do whatever she could to clean herself up as soon as the group next stopped to rest. Right now, she was beginning to feel quite nauseous, and the fact that she had a dull cramp in her back didn’t help improve her mood. 

“It’s likely,” Jan agreed. “Afraid I can’t spot anything though, so if we’re going in this way, we’ll just have to chance it.” He pursed his lips a little. “I wonder about those tubes…and there, do you see the big wheel in front of the machine? That’s bound to do something interesting.” 

“I’m sure,” Zaerini said, grinning. “As long as it’s not fatal to us, be my guest. Let’s get ready then.” 

A few minutes later, the adventurers were all glowing brightly, their bodies charged with the energies of various protective spells. Edwina had made certain to add a few Mirror Images to her own protection. They were always useful, and besides, she always very much enjoyed watching herself. Right now, though, she thought she looked a little peaky. It wasn’t just the dirt, but she thought her hair looked a bit frizzy. _I suppose I’m just tired._ She winced a little, rubbing her temple. Now she was getting a headache too, on top of everything else. _Perhaps I’m falling ill._

“All right then,” Zaerini quietly said. “I’ll go first with Jan, Minsc and Keldorn flanking us, then Edwina and Haer’Dalis, and Jaheira and Anomen last. Everybody ready? Let’s go.” She stepped inside the room, and everything seemed just fine. Still, as Edwina crossed the threshold she couldn’t help worrying. There would be a trap, she just knew it. When the heavy metal door suddenly slammed shut behind her, refusing to be budged, she almost felt relieved. That feeling passed quickly however, at the forceful hiss coming from the tubes on the machine. “Gas!” She cried out, coughing. She covered her mouth and nose with her sleeve, trying to breathe through the cloth, but her lungs were still burning and her eyes tearing, making it very difficult to see. What she did see wasn’t the least bit comforting either. Two large, vaporous shapes, gleaming a faint purple, were drifting towards the adventurers like so much mist. This particular mist had eyes though, dark and hollow. More importantly, this mist had teeth. As the warriors attacked, the ugly creatures fell upon them, biting and tearing, and every drop of blood that they spilt the mist creatures took into themselves. Soon, they had taken on a more reddish tint, and even worse, they were growing. Edwina used what magic she could, but she had to limit herself to simple spells, knowing that the cough caused by the horrible gas was likely to make her fail with any complex incantations. She spared an annoyed look for Jan, who was squatting down on the floor, tinkering with the machine that was releasing the gas. 

“Done!” the gnome suddenly called out, jumping backwards. The machine hacked and creaked, and then there was a loud and sucking noise, as of air rushing inwards. Within seconds, the gas had cleared, and Edwina took a few deep and grateful breaths. Then, she had to duck in order to avoid being hit by the two mist beings as they were helplessly pulled through the air, screaming shrilly. With a hungry slurp the gas machine swallowed them, sucking them fully into itself, and they were gone. “Handy little thing,” Jan shouted over the sound of the rushing wind. “I’m sure it could be used to clean houses too…of course you’ll have to make a few minor modifications, so it won’t swallow the furniture…or the kiddies…or the pets…” 

_Suffy!_ Edwina hastily checked on her familiar, very relieved to find him tucked safely into one of her pockets. Across the room, Zaerini was doing much the same, reassuringly petting a very angry black cat. It seemed that Softpaws wasn’t very pleased with the way that the wind had treated her fur, ruffling it until she looked like a ball of black fuzz. 

_Yeah, Boss? What is it?_

_Are you all right?_

_‘Course I am! I’m cute and fluffy, remember? That’s practically the same as invulnerable, as these things go. You should try it._

_Absolutely not! Under no circumstances whatsoever will I ever willingly refer to myself as ‘cute’. Brilliant, wonderful, dazzlingly intelligent, immensely charming, breathtaking, intimidating and worthy of worship, yes. Cute, no._

_How about ‘fluffy’?_

_No._

_Awwww…just a little fluffy? It’d suit you._

_No!_

There was a sense of cheeky smugness coming from the tiny monkey. _Whatever, Boss. You’re clueless, but that’s pretty cute too, so you’ll do just fine._ Edwina scowled, but then followed the others through the door, which Anomen had just opened by turning the heavy wheel. 

The tunnel eventually widened, leading to a large antechamber, decorated with some very peculiar wall frescoes. Edwina didn’t consider herself squeamish by any means, but she had to admit that looking at pictures of people gleefully plucking their own eyes out wasn’t one of her favorite ways of passing time. There was a big door at the other end of the chamber, covered with the same kind of disgusting pictures. Worse, somebody must have put a large number of spells on it in order to make it impressive. Not only was it dripping green slime, and making moaning noises, but there was a row of very sharp teeth both above and below the doorknob. Edwina suspected that touching that door if you weren’t authorized to do so would probably be a very bad idea. _I’m certain that Teacher Dekaras could do it though. He can get in anywhere._ She felt a sharp pang of worry at the thought of her mentor. She did not like the idea of him entangling himself with that vampire he had mentioned before, no matter how good reasons he said he had. True, it was better than having no idea about what he was doing, but that was a very small comfort under the circumstances. _I wish he could have joined us instead. Everybody else seems to._ The paladin was bad enough, but still tolerable next to that annoying blue-haired bard with his talk of birds, and his constant stream of tedious chatter. 

Right now, Haer’Dalis was giving the ominous door an amused look. “Ah, my Raven,” he said, and smirked at Zaerini. “Whatever comedy of terrors may await us here; this sparrow dares to fly where others tread in fear.” 

“Good for you,” the redhead said. “Pity we can’t just fly past them.” She pointed at the two armed guards standing on either side of the disgusting door. Both of them wore tabards marked with the sign of the Unseeing Eye, a blind white orb against a dirty orange background. As for their own eyes, they must have been removed quite some time ago, because the scar tissue looked old. There was no way they could possibly have heard the low voices on the other side of the chamber, and yet they turned their heads in an unsettling manner towards the adventurers, as if they could see perfectly well even without the use of their eyes. 

“Something is granting them the power of sight,” Anomen murmured. “Phaugh! The stench of evil in this place is enough to make one gag.” 

Minsc nodded sagely. “That is one Very Evil Door,” he said, “the Most Evil that Minsc has seen. Drooling like that is not Manners at all, that door needs a good clean wipe with the Napkin of Justice!” 

The momentary silence that followed this particular Minscism was broken when the ominous door opened, and another man emerged. He was middle-aged, with slightly graying hair and a regular face, and he was as eyeless as the others. 

“It is him,” Jaheira said in a low voice. “The one we saw before, preaching to the crowd. I can sense the unnatural power infusing him from here.” 

The man turned towards them, then raised his hand. “Greetings, supplicants!” he called out. “If you are honest pilgrims, I bid you welcome, but else I fear you must turn aside, for you tread on sacred ground. Only those who serve the Unseeing Eye may enter. I am Gaal, High Priest of the One God.”

“One God…” Keldorn said, grasping the hilt of his sword more firmly. “Such heresy is close to madness.” 

“Maybe,” Zaerini said. “So, let’s be really careful when we talk to him, right? We don’t know how many of them there are.” She walked across the chamber, keeping her hands visible to let the cultists know that she didn’t mean to attack. “Well, hello there,” she said. “We’re just adventurers, I’m afraid, not pilgrims, but I’m always interested in learning about new things. Who is this Unseeing Eye of yours? I’ve never heard of him before.”

Gaal smiled triumphantly. “The Unseeing Eye has brought us enlightenment. Only by removing our eyes can we remove the veil of lies and deceit clouding our lives. He is the most ancient and wise of the race you might know as 'beholders'. We servants have flocked to him gladly, and his mighty power protects us. You would be wise to serve him as we do.”

_A beholder?_ Edwina was honestly fascinated by this latest development. She knew of the fearsome creatures of course, from her studies, but she had never seen one for real, and this particular specimen sounded like it would be a real oddity. “A beholder is behind this?” she murmured. “I have heard of their power -great power, indeed- but I have never heard of one without its eyes. I wonder what kind of power such a creature might wield. (And if perhaps it might be harnessed to our benefit.)” 

Gaal sneered contemptuously at her. “Without his eyes, the One God is stronger, not weaker. He has made mountains tremble and easily destroyed those fools who have come seeking his destruction. Only those who serve Him are safe always.”

“Is that so?” Jaheira asked. “And how would one go about becoming a servant of the Unseeing Eye?”

“Need you even ask, Jae?” Jan said, smirking. “Take a look at these fine and upstanding fellows and try to see what they all have in common. Here’s a hint…it’s not hair color.” 

“The One God has demanded that his disciples achieve a higher state of wisdom,” Gaal said, his voice warbling a little with high emotion. “You must remove that which is limiting and offensive.”

“Oh, the brain you mean?” Edwina said, unable to contain herself any longer. “Yes, you lot do seem to manage relatively decently without yours, but some of us have higher standards to maintain.” Then she shut her mouth as her Hellkitten grasped her by the arm, giving her a very clear ‘Not Now’ look. It was a bit of a strain though. 

“The unholy eyes are removed from your head during the sacred initiation,” Gaal went on. “If you survive and are proven faithful, the Unseeing Eye accepts you into service.”

“And if you don’t survive?” Keldorn asked, sounding incredulous. The paladin’s face was an outraged red by now, and his voice sounded pretty strained. 

Gaal gave a pious sigh. “Sadly, there are those who lack the stamina to serve the One God... their lack of faith betrays them. The bodies of these unfortunates are offered to the Pit of the Faithless.”

“Of course they are,” Haer’Dalis said, his eyes shifting rapidly from blue to green. He sounded vastly amused. “Such glorious entropy you have contrived here, my hounds…’tis enough to make this tiefling impressed. All things must fail and decay in time, and you hasten the process so admirably here, more than many true Doomguards could. Is it not written ‘A Fool’s fate lies within his own two hands; he builds a world on shifting sands?’” 

“Anyway,” Zaerini hastily said, “I think I get the point. Serve very powerful eyeless beholder, get vast power and influence in return, right? Sounds like a good deal…I’m tempted to join up, you know. Only problem is I’m not sure I want to lose my eyes until I know a little more…can we maybe do lighter duties in the temple first…sort of until we’re more easily able to accept enlightenment?”

“Hmmm,” the priest said, sounding disapproving. “It is a sign of weakness to refuse the enlightenment. Would you walk about willingly without arms, without feet? I do not think so.” Then he smiled, as if he had just thought of something. “Still, there is one minor service that one such as yourself might be able to do for us. I will explain the details, and if you perform satisfactorily, I will present you to the Unseeing Eye and let Him make the decision about your place among the Faithful.” 

_It is bound to be better than open combat_ , Edwina thought. _Still…any service that a beholder and his army of mindless slave cannot perform for themselves is bound to be something very unpleasant indeed. Good thing that I am along to make certain nobody takes any preposterous and unnecessary risks._

-*-

“Young woman, I cannot imagine what you were thinking of!” Keldorn lectured. The paladin had been talking non-stop ever since the party had left the blind cultists behind, and he didn’t show any signs of stopping, or even of needing to draw breath. “When I heard you agreeing to go into the dank depths of this forsaken place and fetch some lost artifact for these madmen and their evil master, I thought that you were simply saying so in order to be able to withdraw peacefully.” 

“Oh, come on, Keldorn,” Zaerini said, grinning. “A paladin encouraging me to lie? For shame.” 

“When under the threat of being attacked by a large number of evil priests and a beholder, Torm has no objections about a minor distortion of the truth. I thought you merely made that promise so that reinforcements might be gathered. The Order would…”

“Tromp down there with a small army, _if_ they decided to listen to me. And then they’d either trample that rod that Gaal wants into the mud, or lose it down a chasm, or never find it in the first place because they’d be busy getting eaten by some large demon that they woke up with all their noise. Just relax, would you? We’ve been in tight spots before. And this is a great way of getting the trust of Gaal and his pals, which should help us out. Some infiltration first, and then I’m sure we can take them out. Maybe even with that rod itself.” 

“The Lady Zaerini is right,” Anomen spoke up. “Sir Keldorn, I have traveled with this group for some time, I am quite certain that we can prevail against the foul evil that has taken root here. And also, this is a quest given unto me from Lord Helm himself, through the High Watcher. It would be unknightly of me to pass it on to another.” 

“Your Test is coming soon, is it not, squire Anomen?” Keldorn asked, not unkindly. “I understand your eagerness to prove yourself, but I urge you to think carefully about this. There is no dishonor in requesting aid from those with greater experience.” 

_Gods…he’s as tiresome as Jaheira was when I first met her. What is it about older people that makes them think they know better than you do about your own affairs? I’m never going to be like that, ever._

_Good luck with that, kitten_ , Softpaws said, and the cat’s voice sounded like a quiet chuckle. 

_What’s so funny?_

_Oh…nothing. You’ll find out one day._

_When?_

_Why, when you’re older, of course._

_Ha ha._

“Never mind that pathetic old floating eyeball of a beholder,” Edwina said. “I’m sure it’s gone senile as well as blind. (Although possibly one might squeeze some interesting spell components out of it.) No, we have far more important things to attend to.” She raised the small pendulum that she had been given by Kangaxx the Demilich and held it proudly aloft. It swung back and forth for a few seconds. “You see?” the wizard said, her cheeks flushing eagerly. “The reading is even clearer than before…we are close, I know it. In fact, I believe the magical bones we seek will be…right through that doorway!” She pointed triumphantly at a narrow archway, a little further ahead. “Who knows what awaits us there…immense treasure…a dragon…demons…a portal to a wondrous beach…a genie prepared to grant our every wish…” 

“…or a little old eyeless man knitting a red scarf?” said Jan who had gone ahead and was currently peering through the door. 

“Or a little old eyeless…what was that?” 

Zaerini moved ahead, curious to see for herself. She found out that Jan had described the situation quite accurately. The room wasn’t exactly an ordinary room. Rather, it looked like a crypt. It was fairly dark, except for the faint purple light coming from some magical torches along the walls. Dominating the room was a large dais, and on top of that rested an elaborate stone sarcophagus, with writing along the sides. There were pictures too, but she didn’t feel like looking too closely at those. Even a brief look in that direction was enough to make her feel slightly nauseated. Doors led off in two directions, and close by one sat a shriveled old man, so skinny that he looked like he might break in two if you breathed too hard on him. He was indeed knitting what seemed to be a very ugly red scarf, which was very impressive considering that his eyeballs had been removed long ago. As he knitted, he muttered quietly to himself. “One straight…one odd…one straight…one odd…ooops, lost one…” Then he suddenly startled, and his face swiveled nervously towards the adventurers. “Who? What? Who’s there?” His voice was thin and reedy, and edged with panic. 

“Hey, don’t worry,” the bard said, trying to sound calming. “We’re just adventurers, working for your boss, Gaal. He sent us to fetch this special rod, you see. You haven’t seen it around by any chance?”

However, this did not seem to calm the man at all. “No!” he protested, waving his knitting agitatedly. “No, you must not do this! You mustn’t give the rod to the beholder, it is an artifact of immense power, and it mustn’t be used for evil purposes.” 

“Ha!” Edwina scoffed. “Your ruse is a feeble one, old man. You seek the artifact for yourself, do you not? If it is truly as powerful as all that, of course you would try to scare us away from it. (Not that he will succeed. Finally, a treasure worthy of me, and perhaps…perhaps this thing will even be able to break my curse.)” 

“I do not lie, I assure you,” the old man said. “Please, just listen to me for a moment, and I will explain all. My name is Sassar, and my companions and I were once followers of the abomination you know as the Unseeing Eye.” He gestured towards the door closest to him, and Zaerini could see a few miserable looking eyeless people sitting huddled on the ground. “We learnt what he truly was,” Sassar went on, “and then sought to undo the evil we have helped provide with power.” Then he explained that the reason for the Unseeing Eye’s journey from the Underdark to Athkatla was to seek a certain magical item, a rod of immense power that would be a terrible and deadly weapon. So dangerous it was, that it had been cursed by the gods themselves, and then split in two. The Unseeing Eye already owned one half, but the other one was hidden deep below the sewers, supposedly in a long-lost temple to some long-forgotten god. Many times, had the beholder sought the artifact, but so far without success. Sassar and his fellow ex-cultists had also tried to find it, knowing that it was powerful enough to destroy the beholder himself with little difficulty, but they too had failed. “Once we left his service, the new senses that he had imbued us with left us,” the old man quietly said. “We are truly blind now, and powerless. But you…you would be able to seek the rod, and you already are. Will you use it against the beholder rather than give it to him? If you would, I will let you know how to gain the second half of the rod once you have found the first one.” 

“We are already intending to work against the beholder,” Jaheira commented. “This would seem to serve our purposes as well.” 

“Perhaps…” Edwina agreed. “Yes, we should seek this thing, I agree. (And then I will make certain to make good use of it. Very good use indeed.) But there is something more important to deal with first.” She held up the pendulum, and let it swing back and forth with a smug expression. “As I thought. The pendulum never lies…those bones will be right inside the sarcophagus over there. I will simply go and fetch them, and then we can be on our way.”

“NO!” Sassar screamed, his eyes bulging with panic. “Not the sarcophagus…please, n-not the sarcophagus! I do not know what is inside it, but I can sense the evil of it…do not make it stir, I beseech you!” 

“But Evil should be stirred,” Minsc protested, “the Evil Girl Wizard is right about that. Evil should be stirred, and also chopped, minced, sliced, diced and fried in the Hot Oven of Justice. Also, Boo wonders why you sleep here if you’re scared? Boo always likes to sleep in a safe place that’s all warm and snug.” 

“And I’m sure we really don’t want to know any details about that,” Edwina murmured. 

Sassar was still trembling violently. “The evil sleeps, and it doesn’t cause us harm, disturbing as it is. It also frightens off the beasts that roam these tunnels, so in a sense it keeps us safe. But if you wake it, then none of us will survive, of that I am certain.” 

“Afraid that can’t be helped,” Zaerini said. She felt regretful about it, but she didn’t really have any choice. _Edwina needs those bones, and she’ll get them. I will keep her safe, no matter what._ “See, there’s something inside that sarcophagus that will save the life of one of us. We promise we’ll try not to cause too much trouble while getting it though. And then we’ll see about the Unseeing Eye, like you want us to.” 

“At…at least take this,” Sassar said, handing her the scarf. “It isn’t much, but it’s nice and warm.” He shivered. “My mother always said that everything will feel better if you’re nice and warm….” He sniffled a little. “Mother would be so disappointed in me…” 

“All right, all right,” Rini said. “Thanks.” She wrapped the scarf around her neck, and she had to admit that although it wasn’t much to look at, at least it was warm and cozy. “Just stay back a little, and I’m sure you’ll be fine.” She lightly ran up the steps to the dais and touched the sarcophagus. The stone lid felt icy cold beneath her fingertips. “Right…anybody want to help me out here?”

“Certainly,” Edwina said, eagerly pushing at the lid. Then she scowled. “Stupid, maladjusted body…it’s giving me a backache. Now, if I were my normal, divinely handsome and trim self, things would be very different.” For a moment Rini wondered if she was faking it, but then she saw how pale the wizard look, and the way she winced as she rubbed at her back, trying to ease the pain, little beads of sweat forming on her forehead. 

“Just sit down and get some rest,” she told her lover, pausing only to plant a brief kiss on the wizard’s lips. “You don’t look too good…you might be coming down with something.” Then she resumed pushing at the lid, aided by Minsc and Keldorn. 

“I hope you know what you are doing, young lady,” the paladin sternly said. “I do not know what lies buried here, but I can sense its foulness with no difficulty.” 

“Sure, I know what I’m doing…I’m opening this lid here, see? But I’ll be careful, I promise. I’ll just take a really tiny peek inside and…”

BOOOOM!

The coffin lid exploded upwards, hit the ceiling and shattered into a cloud of fine dust. Rini coughed violently, wiping at her streaming eyes in order to try to see what was going on. When she eventually did, she didn’t feel much better about it. The creature sitting in the coffin was female, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that it had once been female. Now it was dead. Very dead. Basically, it was a skeleton with bits of decaying flesh still sticking to it here and there. It was wearing what had probably once been a lovely set of blue mage robes, and was now a tattered, moldy rag, and on its bony feet it wore something fuzzy and pink. Bunny slippers, Rini noticed, with that eerie sense of lucidity that rests on the edge of madness. Unlike the mage robes, the slippers looked new. The creature didn’t have eyeballs any longer, but little pinpoints of blue light spun deep within the darkness where they had once been. It did have hair though…great, big matted clumps of gray hair, neatly rolled up onto bright pink rollers. _A lich_ , Rini thought, feeling as she had just frozen in place. _Ohshitohshitohshitohshit. A lich._ “Er…hello?” she finally managed, a bright and somewhat manic smile crossing her face. _I’m going to get that Kangaxx for this. He might have warned us, if he wanted his stupid bones back that badly._ “Pleasure to meet you, miss…?”

“Mrsssss!” the thing hissed, and the little blue lights increased in intensity. “Mrsssss Easssssy for you, impudent onessssss.” 

“Easy…” Edwina muttered. “Easy-peasy, that’s what he said, that miserable old floating skull. I’m going to use him for an ash-tray when I’m done with him.”

“Sssstop whissspering,” Mrs Easy said. “I can’t abide it…it givessss me a migraine.” Then she coughed violently, reached into the coffin, and popped a small and bright blue pill into her mouth. It soon fell out through a gaping hole in her throat. “Can’t imagine why thesssse don’t work asss they ussssed to…now, what do you want? I need my beauty ssssleep. And it had better be good…or there’ll be a Horrid Wilting or two coming your way.”


	93. Sing A Song of Kangaxx

**Cards Reshuffled 93 – Sing A Song of Kangaxx**

_Sing a song of Kangaxx,  
A Demilich so foul  
How could our mighty heroes  
Withstand his awful howl?_

_As a coffin opened,  
A duck began to sing  
Spilling monstrous secrets  
The naughty little thing_

_One dead lady was in bed,  
Sleeping with her bunny,  
The second wanted so much more,  
Which was not very funny_

_Old Kangaxx in his downtown crypt  
Was being very dull  
When up came our heroes  
And shattered his skull!_

_‘Sing a Song of Kangaxx’, popular Athkatlan children’s rhyme. Attributed writer, one ‘Haer’Dalis’._

“Well, Mrs Easy,” Zaerini said, not taking her eyes off the lich sitting in the sarcophagus in front of her. “It’s like this…we really didn’t bother you on purpose, actually we didn’t even know you were in there.”

“Then what were you bothering me for?” The lich snapped, the little blue pinpoints of lights glowing more intensely within her empty eye sockets. “I do not like disssturbancesss…tell me what you want, or I will flay the ssssskin off your bonessss. I could do with some new shoessss anyway, it’ssss amazing how fasst they wear out down here. Thessssse were a good find though…high fassshion, I hear.” Zaerini shot a rapid glance at the pink bunny slippers on the lich’s feet and decided not to comment. She had already come to the conclusion that this one was almost certainly as insane as old Nevaziah. 

“Um…there are these golden bones we happen to be searching for…you haven’t happened to see any lying around, have you?”

“The golden bonessss of Kangaxx?” Mrs Easy asked. “I have thossse…keep them closssse. Cold, nassssty thingssss, but I sssswore to guard them, forever and ever and ever…”

“Aha.” _So, I guess asking politely if we could have them is out. But what other options do we have…we can’t fight a lich! Or at least I don’t want to, unless I have no choice about it._ Rini thought about the items in her pack. She did have a few loose spell scrolls, but nothing that seemed very useful here. Oh, there were a couple of scrolls that supposedly protected against Undead, but they would only keep her and one more person safe, and in the time it took to use them she felt certain that Mrs Easy could wipe everybody out. “Forever and ever, you say?”

“Yessss! Me and Mrssss Peasssy. Dotty old bat.” The lich shook her head, and then banged her fist against the side of the sarcophagus. A couple of fingers fell off, but she didn’t seem to notice. “She saysss that my fudge cookiesss can’t match her walnut onessss. Sssstupid woman! My cookiessss are baked jussst as Grandmother did, and dear Mr Eassssy alwayssss saysss he’d die for them.” 

“Ah…Mr Easy?” Keldorn asked, sounding as if he was afraid to hear the answer. “Is he…home?”

“Of coursssse he issss! Can’t have him running about…he might go vissssit that tramp Mrssss Peassssy. She alwayssss had her eyessss on him. But he lovessss me, so he stayssss home. Alwayssss doesss, after I had that little talk with him.” 

“Little…talk?”

“Yessss. Now he’sss very docile. I’ll introduce you to him.” The lich reached into her sarcophagus, digging about as she muttered quietly to herself. Eventually, she found what she was searching for, and held it triumphantly aloft. It was an ancient human skull, yellow with old age, and completely fleshless. There was a large and jagged hole in it, right through the temporal bone, and the lower jaw had completely fallen off. Possibly out of surprise at his sudden demise. At least Rini hoped it had been sudden. “Here issss Ernessst now,” Mrs Easy proudly said. “He’ssss a bit tired though…he needssss his ressst. And it’ssss ever sssso difficult to get it with all thessse pesssky undead everywhere. I hate them, nassssty creaturesss. Very dusssty, no neatnessss.” 

“Hate the undead?!” Anomen incredulously asked. “But you are…” He suddenly checked himself and smiled. It looked almost natural. “Ah…a far too refined lady to put up with such base creatures, of course.” 

“Oh yessss,” the lich said, smiling horribly at Anomen. “I sssse you are a fine gentleman who underssstandsss thessse things.” She giggled coyly, coughing up a few cockroaches that she delicately tossed across the side of the sarcophagus. “I may be a Necromancer, but that doesssn’t mean I have to put up with sssstinking, ugly undead, doesss it?”

“Out of curiosity,” Edwina asked, crossing her arms across her chest, “do you by any chance happen to recall some mysterious and arcane ritual, some time back? One involving a particularly fine and enchanted bottle, and drinking something extremely toxic under the light of the full moon? (Although possibly this sad old hag simply aged badly. Yet another reason to seek proper immortality, even though I would of course look stunning at any age I owe it to humanity to preserve the most perfect version of myself.)” 

“Why yesss,” the lich said. “My ssssuperior among the Cowled Wizardssss made me thissss nice cup of tea…can’t go wrong with a nice cup of tea. It had lemon in it too. He ssssaid it would help me sssssleep. Wassss a bit bitter…” 

“And the jar?” Rini asked, knowing full well that a lich needed to store its soul in a vessel enchanted for the purpose. 

“He sssssaid the sssspell wassss for an anti-wrinkle cream.” 

“Right…” the bard said, not quite daring to look at the lich’s partially decomposed face. The bits of it that hadn’t fallen off were nothing but wrinkles. “How…considerate of him.” _Guess he wanted somebody to guard Kangaxx’s bones really well and didn’t want to put in the effort himself. What a bastard. And I think she honestly doesn’t know what she’s become._

Edwina suddenly smiled charmingly at the lich, and when she next spoke her voice was practically dripping honey. “My dear Mrs Easy,” she said, “I completely understand your devastating and undignified predicament. A lady of class and breeding such as yourself should never be forced to suffer the presence of unwanted undead. Of course, I understand that you would be completely able to deal with the situation on your own…but perhaps you might appreciate some aid all the same?”

“How ssssso?”

“Weeeell,” the wizard purred. “It just so happens that we have some interesting spell scrolls available…specifically one that protects completely against the dark attentions of the undead. It may only be a temporary remedy, but it would at least grant you a long and peaceful rest.” 

“Yessss…” Mrs Easy said, and the black and bloodless remnants of her lips drew back in a smile. “Give it to me…give it to me at once! Or I will sssssummon my magic to wipe you all out, all of you! My Wail of the Banshee issss famoussss, you know, whatever Mrsss Peasssy saysss.” 

“Better by far, dear lady, I will cast it on you!” Edwina magnanimously offered, spreading her arms in a grand gesture. She turned towards Zaerini, and the bard could see that there was a feverish glitter in her eyes and that her cheeks were flushed with excitement. It was a very attractive, not to mention exciting sight, but the bard forced herself to try to concentrate on other things. This was not a good time to get lost in fantasies. “My Hellkitten…would you pass me that particular scroll? I will deal with this little thing, if you don’t mind.” 

“Sure,” Rini said, hoping that she sounded calm. “Whatever you say.” _I have no idea what she thinks she’s doing, but I hope it works. If it doesn’t, we’re probably done for._

Edwina took the offered scroll, then approached the lich. “Now, this will only take a moment,” she said. She raised the scroll, pointed at the lich and intoned the arcane phrases written down on the scroll. For a moment, a white flow surrounded her, and then it concentrated on her fingertips, and leapt across to the lich. Mrs Easy’s mouth opened a little with surprise, and there was a faint hissing noise, but then she fell silent. She sat in her sarcophagus, completely immobile, and stared emptily in front of herself as if she had no idea that anybody else was present. “Why are you standing around gaping, you dull-witted simians?” Edwina snapped. “Are you expecting a written assignment? My presence of mind and superior intellect has disabled the lich for now, and now you grunts can do what you do best. (Gah, they do need to be prodded into the simplest action. They are so fortunate to have me to manage them and their crude ways of combat.)”

“Less than politely put,” Rini said, “but good idea. Let’s get her!” She drew her short sword, choosing it over her bow in these close quarters, and the dark blade stabbed deeply into the ribcage of Mrs Easy with a sound like tearing cardboard. 

The battle was short, and it wasn’t much of a battle. A couple of times magical protections flared up around the lich, making her impervious to harm, and precious moments had to be spent on dispelling them. In the end she fell though, and crumpled into dust, completely oblivious to her attackers. 

“Aw, Minsc feels sad now,” Minsc said as he stuck Lilarcor back into its sheath. “While Evil has been pounded well and good by us heroes, Minsc prefers Evil to be pounding back.”

“Aye,” Anomen agreed, looking regretful. “It does feel unsporting, I agree.” 

“Expedient though,” Keldorn said. “This creature was both insane and dangerous, and needed to be dealt with. Had it been necessary, I would gladly have sacrificed my own life to wipe such a blight on the Realms away, but I can see no purpose in risking all our lives if a more convenient solution is available. Remember your lessons, young Anomen – the wise man uses what weapon is most effective against his foe.” 

“A remarkable display of sense from a pala-dunce,” Edwina said, smirking a little. “Perhaps my presence is rubbing off and instilling some remnants of logical thinking. (Hm…for a moment there he almost sounded like…no, preposterous idea.) And now you may all cease your slack-jawed moment of shock and awe and lavish upon me the praise and adoration due to me.” 

“Would you be satisfied with me doing that?” Rini asked, grinning. She wrapped her arms firmly around the wizard’s waist and then gave her a long and thorough kiss, firmly ignoring Keldorn’s surprised little gasp. 

“I suppose I would have to be content with that, yes,” Edwina said, smiling in return as she was eventually able to draw breath again. “Though perhaps a repeat performance would be in order, to make absolutely certain of it.” 

The second kiss was just as enjoyable as the first one, and then Rini decided to take a closer look at the sarcophagus. Apart from the lich dust, which Edwina enthusiastically gathered into a small bottle, she found a collection of heavy golden bones. She wasn’t completely certain exactly where each one was supposed to go, but she could recognize the long sturdy thigh bones, and correctly guessed that the others probably belonged in arms and legs as well. There was also a half-rotted leather purse, that rattled just like a bag of dice. What fell out was a heap of little leg and toe bones, however. Every single one glittered with pure gold, and they felt icy cold to the touch. 

“Ah, this Kangaxx might be powerful,” Haer’Dalis mused, “but hardly knowledgeable of the ways of the world. Entropy comes to us all, and though he tried to take his fortune with him into undeath, it was still scattered before the howling winds of decay. Rash fool! For undeath is an affront to the multiverse itself, a perversion as it attempts to prevent what must be. As well might a child write letters in the sand and think them to last against the rising tide. Everything must perish, and we should aid entropy, not fight it.”

“Foolishness,” Jaheira scoffed. “While it is true that undeath is a foulness and blight upon nature, entropy is no goal in itself.” Her eyes turned pensive. “Death comes to all in time…and to some before their proper time. It needs not be hurried along.”

Haer’Dalis grinned, his eyes glittering bright purple for a second. “Think you so, my hound? But what if their time was measured short, as a bud frozen on the stem before it has the chance to fully bloom? By seeking to spare them, you would snatch them from their proper doom.” 

“Enough!” the druid snarled. “You speak of what you do not know.” Her jaws clenched for a moment. “Death has…taken enough, too soon. I will always fight it, tooth and nail, for as long as I myself draw breath, and no…fool or his philosophies will keep me from doing so. I will remember your words though, for the time when you are in need of healing and see if you still hold to them then.” 

“Of course,” Haer’Dalis lightly said. “This sparrow may fly lightly on the wings of poetry, but my words are not grasped out of thin air. To halt the entropy of the body goes against my ways, and I would not accept it even if offered.” 

“Well,” Rini said, “that’s up to you, I guess. But right now, I think we should leave the philosophy aside. We’ve got better things to do.” 

“Oh yes!” A cracked and dusty voice cackled behind her. “Lots and lots of things they have to do, don’t they, Ducky? Running around so eagerly like little ants, running errands for somebody. Who might it be, Ducky? Could it be our dear friend Kangaxx?”

Rini closed her eyes for a moment, sighing deeply. “There is another lich standing behind me, isn’t there?” she asked. 

Edwina nodded. 

“And he’s carrying a yellow toy duck, isn’t he?”

Another nod. 

“Yeah…that’s what I thought. What a perfect day this is turning out to be.

“Hello Nevaziah,” Zaerini said, and turned around. Indeed, it was the previous owner of the Nether Scroll who stood there, a wide smirk spread all over his mummified and prune-like face. Deep within his dark eye sockets, little red lights danced and spun like fireflies. As usual, he carried a yellow toy duck lovingly beneath one arm, now and then patting it on the head. What was new though, was the hat. Rini had thought that the bucket-like thing that Nevaziah had worn before had been the outer limits in hideous headwear, but the current one was even worse. It was a bright orange monstrosity, with a wide rim from which a glaringly pink little veil coquettishly dangled over the lich’s right eye socket. On top of this some undiscriminating and probably insane person had piled a great heap of artificial fruit. Bananas, apples, oranges, cherries and grapes, all jumbled together, and then there was a tiny miniature toy parrot on a stick, pinned onto one of the bananas. 

“Do you like it?” Nevaziah coyly said, adjusting a bunch of cherries. “I always was good with fashion when I was alive…you should have seen these shoes I invented…must show them to you sometime.” He paused, raising his duck to his ear as if he was listening to it. “Oh yes, Ducky…if they live long enough, of course.” Then he chuckled. “Actually, it was I who found poor Mrs Easy those lovely bunny slippers…you don’t think she’ll mind if I take them, do you?”

Rini glanced at the pile of dust that had been the late Mrs Easy. “I…wouldn’t think so,” she said, very carefully. “I don’t think she needs any bunny slippers where she’s gone.” 

”Oh good!” Nevaziah said, sliding the ghastly pink bunny slippers onto his feet. “There we go, pretty as a picture, aren’t we Ducky? Oh yes, we are. Now, what are you lot doing here, eh?” He gave Edwina an amused look. “Still a girl, are you? How sloppy.” Then he blinked and scratched his chin. “Or were you always a girl? It’s so difficult to remember things these days…”

“I was _not_ always a girl, you senile lich!” Edwina snarled. “And I will not be one for much longer either, I will regain my proper, male form! As for you, you will stop provoking me if you know what is good for you, there is no such thing as too large a supply of lich dust.” She turned to glare at Haer’Dalis, who was watching her with great interest. “And you can stop looking so very amused, you untalented purveyor of outhouse wall poetry!”

“Amused, I?” the tiefling said, smiling broadly. “I am merely intrigued by this unexpected revelation…my sweet, charming lady Sparrow hawk.” 

For a few seconds, Edwina’s eyes seemed to glow as red as Nevaziah’s. “I’ll show you a revelation,” she screeched, her fingers curling into claws. “Once I am through with you, you’ll be able to perform auguries with your own entrails, since I will have them pinned to a wall, and they will undoubtedly reveal that your pathetic scribblings would easily be trumped by the creative efforts of any seven-year old writing an essay about ‘What I did on my summer holidays.’ (Especially my own. I remember I got full marks for that one…and a detention for the rabid pixies I accidentally let loose when I was trying to add more drama and excitement by having them chant a chorus about my greatness.)”

“Edwina, calm down!” Rini said. “This isn’t a good time.” 

“I won’t calm down! I can’t calm down!” The wizard was practically hissing now, and her cheeks were red. “Why does every ill-bred simian around here insist on annoying me?” She angrily rubbed at her back, trying to massage herself, and then winced as if in pain. “I’m hungry, I’m sick, and I WANT TO DESTROY ANYBODY WHO DARES CONTRADICT ME IN ANY WAY!” 

_Gods, what is wrong with her_ , Rini thought. She knew how hot-tempered her lover could be, but this was definitely out of the ordinary. “No, you don’t,” she said, grasping Edwina by the upper arms. “Not me, you don’t. Do you?”

Some of the fire in Edwina’s eyes flickered and died down. “No…” She whispered. “No…of course not. Never you.” 

“Spare your ire for this foul undead that stands before us, young woman,” Keldorn boomed, stepping forward to place himself firmly between the women and Nevaziah. “Whatever his intentions, they are bound to be steeped in the darkest of evil, deserving only of destruction.” 

“Minsc agrees!” Minsc said, drawing Lilarcor once again. The sword gleefully shouted something about ‘pounding lich buttock’. “Minsc is happy to see the Evil Girl Wizard wanting to be a goodly Hero and help grind Evil Undead into bone meal, so that we might all bake the Cake of Justice with it, but she should stay back so she doesn’t get hurt. Swords in front, witches in back, so Boo says, and his wise words should be heeded by all.” 

“Witches?” Edwina sputtered. “WITCHES?! HOW DARE YOU! I’LL…” Then she fell silent, as Rini curled her fingers into her hair, then tickled her beneath the chin. 

“He only means to be nice, you know that,” the half-elf murmured. “Don’t mind him.”

“Hmpf…very well, I will let the insult pass, for your sake. But no more calling me a Witch will I put up with!” 

“I’ll talk to him about it.” The bard turned to Nevaziah again. “All right,” she said. “Was there anything special you wanted?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” the lich said, with a very disturbing smile. “Let’s ask Ducky.” He patted the duck on the head. “He knows…he knows everything, don’t you, Ducky?” A small, raspy voice emanated from the approximate region of the duck’s beak, although the fact that Nevaziah’s mouth was moving made it fairly obvious who really was doing the talking. Or singing, in this case. 

_Mean old Kangaxx, cheap old Kangaxx,  
Wants his bones returned  
Will bones you find?  
A Geas unbind?  
Or will you get burned?_

_Lying Kangaxx, sneaky Kangaxx,  
Kangaxx never pays  
One must hide well,  
Where shadows dwell,  
To win when Kangaxx plays_

_Nasty Kangaxx, clever Kangaxx,  
Death is what he brings  
Take care my dear,  
And plug your ear,  
To live when Kangaxx sings_

_Wicked Kangaxx, boasting Kangaxx,  
Thinks to trap your soul  
So set a spell,  
To guard you well,  
And you will reach your goal_

_Clever Kangaxx, ancient Kangaxx,  
Face him soon you will  
Your form depart,  
Weave Word of Art,  
And Kangaxx you will kill._

“Very nice, Ducky, very nice,” Nevaziah chuckled. “That should tell them everything they need to know, oh yes it should. If they are clever enough to figure out our little riddle, and skilled enough to follow instructions.” 

“Riddle?” Jaheira angrily said. “Do not toy with us, lich! Speak plainly, if you would truly help.” 

“But that wouldn’t be fun, no fun at all! Ducky likes his little games, and so do I.” The lich chuckled again. “Better start thinking about the riddle right now…Kangaxx expects you back before long, and he isn’t the grateful sort, so don’t think that bringing his bones will help against him.” He waved cheerfully and tossed the druid a bunch of fake grapes from his hat. “Have these, they look really tasty. What is it they say in this age again, Ducky? Oh yes…toodles everybody!” With that, he shuffled off down the passageway, humming his song to himself. 

“Nobody go after him,” Rini said, seeing the angry looks on more than one face. “He’ll never speak more plainly than that, and fighting one lich today was quite enough, I think.” She sighed. “Who knows, his crazy riddle may even be of some help…unless it’s just meant to drive us insane.” 

“I would not choose to trust that creature,” Anomen said. “He cares only about his own purposes, and I doubt they fully coincide with ours. Still, he is right about one thing. It would be wise to be well prepared, once we eventually go to face this…demilich.”

“Preparation is always good,” Jan agreed. “My second cousin Froppo learnt that, that time when he was on a dangerous quest to forever destroy the Wedding Ring of Doom, or at least to take it to the pawn shop.” 

“The ‘Wedding Ring of Doom’?” Keldorn asked, frowning heavily. “You should not jest about sacred matrimony like that.” 

“Oh, this was no jest, Keldy. You should have seen Froppo’s wife…ten tons of balrog she was, all shadow and flame, and with these giant smoking wings and a burning whip…between the two of us, he only married her for the money, and when it ran out he was stuck with her. She loved him though, he was a Jansen after all, and knew how to tickle her fancy.” 

“You… I…that is…” Keldorn cleared his throat, looking momentarily stunned. “What does all this have to do with preparations?” 

“Well, he knew she’d come after him, see. So, he brought all the necessities. Sword, bow, invisibility potions, bear traps, rope…everything he needed, except for that one thing.”

“And what was that?”

“Why Keldy, he forgot to bring a paladin of course. See, if he had, then when his wife used her whip to drive him off that bridge, then the paladin would have fallen with him, becoming a Fallen Paladin in effect. And as we all know, fallen paladins are rotten to the core. And since rotten things are really soft and squishy, then cousin Froppo would have walked away unharmed and not broken both his legs!”

Keldorn groaned. 

“Sadly,” Jan went on, “he didn’t bring a paladin, so his broken legs kept him from getting away and his wife got a divorce instead. His head from his body. But that’s love for you, eh Keldy? Good thing you’re with us though, just in case we come across any steep bridges.”

“That is not humorous, gnome!”

Rini tried to tune out the conversation. She was thinking about what Nevaziah had said. It wouldn’t surprise her if Kangaxx would try to kill them after regaining his bones, not at all. Still, she couldn’t see that they had much of a choice about things. Edwina’s Geas needed to be lifted, and as soon as possible. _We’ll just have to try to be prepared, I suppose. And to try to guess that riddle. And hopefully Nevaziah really wants to help, and not just lead us into a trap. But I don’t think so…I think he’s playing with us though._

_He’s playing with both you and the other dead thing_ , Softpaws firmly said. _Like a cat with a mouse, he’s pushing you around with his paws, trying to make you run. I don’t think he cares if you or the dead thing wins, but he wants the fight more even, so it will be more fun for him to watch._

_So, he may help us with this riddle of his…but he won’t help us actually fight Kangaxx. I’m not surprised. Well, let’s try to make things a little easier. If the cards you are dealt seem bad, you should always try to peek at your opponent’s, right? So, let’s take a little peek…I’m sure there are lots of things I can learn._


	94. Visionaries and Vision

**Cards Reshuffled 94 – Visionaries and Vision**

_In choosing your enemies, you’d better hope you have a dull and unimaginative one, content to simply sit at the bottom of a dungeon and patiently wait for you to waltz in and slay him. Unfortunately, this is rarely the case, and your enemies will be making plans of their own, with some of them not even having the decency let you in on them._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“What do you mean you can’t find them anywhere?” Aerie asked, her voice tightly controlled. “I thought I gave you specific instructions.” 

Lord Logum Eckel bowed nervously, his Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down. Gone was the time when he had dared try to patronize her or trying to ‘make her over’. That had been a useful angle to play, but it was good to be able to do away with the pretense, at least when she was not in public. She much preferred the nobleman this way. The Hidden’s adjustment to Eckel and his compatriots meant that Aerie could afford to relax and let her true emotions shine through now and then, and Great Mistress, that felt good. 

Oh yes, Eckel was much better this way. Trembling…fearful…adoring…awed…terrorized. Especially terrorized. Right now, he flinched a little as the Avariel daintily stepped up to him, reaching up to run a sharp nail along the his throat. A few drops of blood trickled forth. “I told you,” Aerie sweetly said, “that I wanted that mongrel redhead captured, and that…that wizard dead. Painfully so.” She let her nails dig in a little deeper, cutting through flesh. “And I deserve to get what I want, isn’t that so? Considering how much I have suffered?”

“Oh…oh y-yes,” Lord Eckel stuttered, his face turning a chalky white. Pleasure and pain were intricately tied together in his mind now, a complex web as insidious as she could make it, and as strong as steel courtesy of The Hidden’s little modifications. He both adored and feared her now, and he wanted to please her. The mere thought of disappointing her was enough to cause him unbearable anguish. Not that she minded adding in a little bit of physical torment now and then, to really drive her point home. The more pain the merrier, after all. 

“And people who disappoint me hurt my feelings,” Aerie murmured, sliding her hand a little further down. “And what do people who hurt my feelings deserve, hmmm?” 

Sweat was flowing freely down the man’s face now, and the sour stench of fear was strong in the air. Aerie wrinkled her nose. How disgusting these humans could be. “Well?” she asked. 

“To…to be punished,” he replied. Then he sank to his knees. “Mistress, not the whip! Not the whip, please! I…I love you!” 

Aerie smiled. “Of course you do,” she said. “That is as it should be. I made very certain of it. No…I won’t use the whip right now. I don’t want to incapacitate you too badly, for you still have work to do. Something a bit more…indirect, I think.” Down her hand went, until it rested gently on his chest, and then she let the power of her Mistress flow through her. The man screamed, screamed wildly as the pain spell wracked his body, and then collapsed into a shivering and whimpering heap on the floor. “You won’t disappoint me again, will you?” Aerie asked, using her sweetest voice. “No? Oh, I’m so glad to hear it.” _I should make certain he fetches some more of his friends_ , she thought. _The thralls I have gathered so far are working hard on my behalf, but there are too few of them. Well, at least this one is amusing._ The real torture wasn’t physical, of course. The amusing part was that he actually was still smitten with her, and that he suffered extreme mental pain because of her actions towards him. The betrayed look in his eyes as he was brought before The Hidden for his adjustment had been…divine. She sighed a little, smiling as she thought of it. And he couldn’t leave her either, the magic bound him too tightly. So, he loved her, and hated her, and suffered beautifully. It was almost worth putting up with his unsightly face for the exquisite torture of it. 

“I have found their approximate location out by scrying,” she coldly said, nudging the man with her foot to make him get up. “Search the Temple District, I sense they are currently close to that area. When you locate them, you will send me word. I will not have this bungled.” Which was why she had two plans for dealing with her foes, not just one. If the first should fail, then the other would succeed. _Then my Mistress Loviatar will have her prize – and I will have mine._

-*-

“Degardan. How goes your mission?” The woman in the vision conjured by the enchanted crystal ball was beautiful, if one disregarded the fact that her head had been shaved until she was as bald as an egg. A tattoo of a black dragon crawled across her scalp, the tail curling down to wind itself around her right eye. The faintly golden tint to her skin contrasted sharply against her crimson robes. At the edge of the vision, Degardan could just make out her long and elegant nails, tapping idly against the lacquered table she was sitting by. “Have you located Odesseiron yet?”

“I am well on my way to doing so,” Degardan replied, keeping his tone respectful before his superior. “You know that these things can take time, Salenaz.” 

“ _Lady_ Salenaz for you, Degardan,” the woman said in an icy voice. “And time is of the essence, as you well know. If his mother should learn of this before he is dealt with…”

Degardan thought about this. It was not a pleasant thought. “Surely she would never dare counteract Zulkir Nevron?” His voice sounded pleading even to himself. 

“That woman would dare anything. I think she is crazy enough to take on Szass Tam if he threatened her precious offspring. Yes, sheer numbers and lawful authority would help us prevail against her eventually, but we really do not need the resulting awkwardness in the Necromancer circles. Not to mention the other political aspect. The Odesseirons are a powerful family, and with Homen Odesseiron as Tharchion of Surthay, on the very border of Rasheman, we don’t want him to decide to suddenly take an interest in his nephew’s well-being.” 

_Niece’s_ , Degardan thought, but didn’t say it. He had judged it best not to inform Salenaz of how close he had already come to Edwin Odesseiron, or that he had been fooled by a gender change spell of all things. “I will find the renegade soon;” he reassured the wizardess. “I have tracked him to Athkatla, and he will have left tracks here as well. You know him. He is completely incapable of being discreet.” 

Salenaz didn’t laugh. “So he may be,” she said. “But his companion is not. Watch your back, Degardan. Watch your back very carefully. And eliminate Odesseiron.” The vision winked out, and Degardan sat in silence for a while, thinking. Salenaz was correct. He would need to be careful. Fortunately, he was well prepared. Very well prepared. _Let them come if they want. They will regret doing so. My spell contingencies will deal with anybody foolhardy enough to attack me. And doing so should impress Salenaz well enough…I sense a promotion coming my way._

-*- 

The pieces of the puzzle were neatly sliding into place, Irenicus mused to himself. He judged that Coordinator Wanev would soon be ripe for plucking off his proud perch. The wards on the holding cell were growing steadily weaker, but of course he hadn’t let his captors notice that. No, he would wait, and watch, and bide his time, until he was ready. Then, and only then, would he make his move. _With the Tree, I made the mistake of acting too soon. Not again. Never again._

The mage was sitting on the floor of his dark cell, his legs crossed beneath him and his hands held out in front of him, palms upwards. It was time to perform a small test, to investigate the limits of the wards on his cell. He calculated that he should be able to circumvent the spells, as long as he limited himself to subtle and discreet magic, not meant to break the wards themselves. _And these humans are so limited in their thinking. With their short, pathetic lives, how could they be any other? They simply do not have the perspective necessary for true mastery of the Art. And She thought to punish my supposed crime by turning me into one of them. How mistaken she was. Things are…slipping away from me…but at least I am not a hairy bundle of chaotic impulses, ruled by the chemicals sloshing about in my brutish body. And soon I will be more than I ever was. Soon. Once I have the Bhaalspawn once again available for processing._

Softly, almost inaudibly, the masked wizard murmured a few words, his fingers making minute and graceful motions as if he were stirring the air. Between them, a glowing web formed, silvery strands that twisted together into a shining sheet, resembling a mirror. The faint light shone off Irenicus mask, its smooth surface as impassive as ever. Behind the mask, icy blue eyes sparkled brightly with concentration as the wizard carefully tied the spell together, making certain that it did not interfere with the wards on his prison. _Yes. That is perfect._

A face formed within the mirror, a woman’s beautiful face, pale and cold, framed by wild black hair. “Well met, sister,” Irenicus spoke. 

Bodhi hissed faintly with surprise, baring her teeth, but she soon flashed him a brief smile. “Greetings, my brother. I expected to hear from you before now.” 

“I was delayed.”

“What, with that pretty little pink-haired human?” Bodhi licked her lips, then winked at him, a devilish glint in her dark eyes. “I wouldn’t mind a piece of her myself…in any way.” 

“Do not be preposterous. You know perfectly well that I have no interest in that sort of thing anymore,” Irenicus replied, his voice wintry cold. “And try to control your carnal appetites for at least the brief time I dare maintain this spell. We have important matters to discuss. You will share with me what information you have managed to gather about this place, so that I may better coordinate my plans. I have lingered here long enough. And I also wish to know what progress you are making with a certain half-elf.” 

Bodhi spoke for some time, Irenicus now and then cutting in with a question, and once he was satisfied he let the spell wink out, now confident that he could contact his sister in this fashion again, should he need it. The wards remained undisturbed, no Cowled Wizards had tried to challenge him, and his plan was progressing as it should. He stretched his mind again, testing the wards. Soon, it would be time to break them. Soon. 

-*-

There was a chink in the tall dark wall in front of her. No longer was it as impregnable as it had been, and now she was confident that it eventually would fall. _Too long has this one resisted rightful punishment. Far too long, but not for very much longer._ The Oluanna smiled faintly, straightening her heavy braids as she let the scrying dissolve. She would make another attempt later when she had the time to spare. It was getting easier to pinpoint her quarry with every time she tried, although she still hadn’t been able to properly place him in the physical world. That would happen in time, though. 

_Eventually, he will tire, and he will be mine. In the meantime, there are other matters to deal with._ Her influence over the _Wychlaran_ was solidifying, and she felt certain that she had passed the point where the sadly unconvinced of her sisters would be able to interfere with what must be. _If need be, they must fall, for the greater good. They cannot be allowed to stand in the way of the prophecy, or the world as we know it may well be destroyed._ She had been carefully taught, from an early age, just what that would entail. _Chaos, slaughter and murder, evil ruling unopposed. It must not be. It will not._

She sighed, and sat down at her desk, in order to go over the reports sent from her closest agents. She did not enjoy the thought of having to be harsh with her sisters, not at all. They were not truly evil people, simply ignorant. Perhaps some of them might yet turn to the light. She hoped so. _But I will do what I must. I am the Chosen One, and I must not falter or hesitate. Only the weak in faith do so, and I will be strong._

The voice inside her head was deep and low, and its chuckle reminded her of poisonous syrup. I KNOW THAT YOU WILL BE, MY DAUGHTER. YOU ALWAYS ARE. 

“Away, vile fiend!” she hissed, gripping the edge of her desk so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “I renounce you, and all your dark spawn! I always have, and I always will.” 

RENOUNCING ALL YOUR POOR SIBLINGS, DAUGHTER? HOW UNCHARITABLE OF YOU. DO YOU STILL HOLD TO YOUR PLAN, THEN? TRULY, YOU ARE OF MY BLOOD. 

“I do what I have to do,” she snarled, feeling beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Always it was so when the dead Lord of Murder attempted to taunt her, to twist her best intentions into evil. So far, he had failed…but would that always be so? “I am the one the prophecy speaks of, I know it. I will remove your taint from the world, and I will spare no effort in doing so. Goodness shall prevail!” 

Again, that insidious laughter. I ENJOY YOUR RESISTANCE. IT WILL MAKE YOUR SUBMISSION ALL THE SWEETER IN THE END. 

The presence of the dead god faded from her mind, but she still felt nauseous, cold and sick. _No. He is lying, he always does. I will not listen, I will stand true, I will do as I was taught. And my siblings will not be permitted to release his evil into the world once more. The prophecy must be fulfilled._

-*-

“Ah, dear raven, truly this latest feat is one worthy of song,” Haer’Dalis mused. “Shall we perhaps sit down and compose one together? I’m told you take an interest in both the tiles and sweet music that gladdens heart and soothes the rabid beasts…surely a useful talent to cultivate.” He gave Edwina a meaningful look under his long eyelashes, then grinned. “I do not envy you, my raven…much as I normally seek out the forces of destruction this Sparrow does not wish his wings burned.” 

“So maybe I’m more daring than you are,” Zaerini said, smirking at the blue-haired man. “Really Haer’Dalis, I’m disappointed. Anyway, I suppose that resting here for a while might be a good idea. It’s safe enough, with the lich gone, and it seems the other creatures of this place don’t want to come in here.”

None of the others objected, though Edwina made a special point of sitting very close to Rini, with her arm wrapped around the half-elf’s waist. The wizard kept glaring darkly at Haer’Dalis, and she muttered something about how sparrows were considered a delicacy in her home country. Rini shook her head, but made no comment, feeling more than a little tired. She was leaning back against the sarcophagus, idly playing with Edwina’s hair, twining it around her fingers. Haer’Dalis, who had placed himself cross-legged on the sarcophagus itself, seemed a little annoyed with her preoccupation. “Daring has never failed this Sparrow so far, though I have no wish to nest with a hawk…but what say you? Shall we practice our arts for a while?”

“You can do that later,” Jaheira decisively said. “Right now, you will aid in the setting up of camp. If you know a good cooking song, now would be a good time to sing it. And one for the washing of dishes will surely come in useful later on.” 

“Alas,” Haer’Dalis sighed. “Thwarted yet again, the cruel words of this bane of poets piercing my soul, unsympathetic to both rhyme and reason.” 

“Oh, don’t worry,” Rini said, clapping him on the shoulder. “We’ll all help out of course. Tell you what, I’ll compose a dish washing song, and we can all sing it together to cheer you up while you work…”

As it happened, Haer’Dalis was not forced to labor alone. Once Jaheira had made some freshwater spring forth from the rock and everybody had got the chance to wash up, food was quickly prepared. Only cold food, sadly. Bread, cheese, cold meat, and some apples. Making a campfire inside a cave with no proper ventilation didn’t really seem like a good idea. Afterwards, as everybody retired to their bedrolls, Zaerini found herself cuddled up close to her lover. Edwina had been unusually quiet and moody during dinner, and even now she was looking pretty distressed. “What’s wrong, ‘Dwina?” the half-elf asked as she reached a hand up to stroke the other woman’s cheek. 

“I…don’t know,” Edwina admitted. She was lying on her back, her knees drawn up, and she fiddled nervously with the amulet hanging around her throat, as if she were trying to draw strength from it. “I can’t seem to relax properly. (And there is this persistent and annoying ache in my back…and my legs…and why does my robe feel so tight all of a sudden?)”

“You seemed pretty worked up earlier too…is there anything special bothering you?” 

The wizard shook her head. “No. Well…yes.” She sighed. “I wish that Teacher Dekaras had come with us, and not gone back to that vampire coven. I don’t even want to think about how dangerous that has to be. And I know he can deal with just about anything, but I still get worried. I didn’t used to feel that way when I was a child, I suppose I never really understood just how dangerous things he did.” 

“I know what you mean,” Rini said, closing her eyes for a moment. “I used to think that Gorion could deal with anything bad that would ever happen to me, but then…” She groaned. “Sorry…that wasn’t the most comforting thing to say, was it?” She wrapped her arms around the wizard and cradled her close. “But he did have a point. If he just up and disappeared, Bodhi would get suspicious, and she’d probably come after him, so he should actually be safer this way. And he said that he thought he could find out more about where Imoen is being kept, that Spellhold place. I’ve no idea what Bodhi’s stake in the whole business is, but she knows something.” 

“I know,” Edwina darkly replied. “He always does have a point, that’s what makes it even worse. And he probably doesn’t even realize how worried I am.” 

“So maybe you should tell him?”

“What good would it do? He would still insist on going on with his plans, you know. He never gives up on a project as long as there is still some hope of success.” 

“Mmm…just like somebody else I know. But still…at least he’d know how much you care, right?”

“He knows that,” Edwina said, sounding a little insulted. “How could he not?”

“I don’t know,” Rini said. “It was just a thought; you don’t have to get angry with me.” She suddenly smiled and nudged the wizard’s side. “Hey, I have an idea! I can do another Reading; it’s been a long while. And if there’s anything in particular threatening him, then maybe I can see it, and we can give warning, how’s that?”

“You…would do that?” Edwina said. 

“Of course. I like him…and you love him, and I love you. And I should do it anyway, to see what I can learn about what lies ahead of us. It’s no problem…just one thing though.” 

“What?”

“Don’t tell your teacher that I was spying on him unless we really have to,” Rini said, grinning embarrassedly. “I don’t think he’d appreciate it, and although I like him, he still makes me pretty nervous…” 

A little while later, Zaerini had conjured up a little ball of floating mage light, to make it easier for her to read her cards. She shuffled the deck, then paused with her fingers resting on it, trying to focus. _The events close in the future…show some of them to me, that I might influence them for the better. Show me how to avoid the pitfalls along the road I walk. And there is something else…_ She concentrated. _The Rogue. Show me something concerning him, something important._

Then she spread the cards out, watching them closely. The Moon, with the Chariot. Then the Knight of Cups, between Justice and the Hanged Man. The High Priestess inverted, next to Justice inverted. Next came the Fool, with Death and the Wheel of Fortune. And then the Rogue, opposing the Wizard of Swords. She focused intently on the cards, letting them fill her sight, her mind, her world. And then they did. 

She was standing in a small meadow, the night sky vast and dark above her head. There were stars, but only a few, and the light of the moon was pale and wan. But then it increased in intensity, and as she looked up she could see the glowing orb growing, expanding until it almost blotted out the sky. I’ve never seen a moon that big, she thought. 

_It isn’t the moon…not really._ The eyes of her familiar glowed from within the tall grass, and then Softpaws daintily slunk towards her, making no noise. The tail of a small mouse dangled from the cat’s mouth. _Look, kitten. Look at it._

Zaerini looked, and now she could see it too. It was the moon, but…not. The moon shouldn’t have a large, dark central blot in it, should it? And it shouldn’t have red veins slithering across its wet and shiny surface either. _It’s…it’s an eye? A giant, floating eyeball?_ It made sense, she supposed. _The Unseeing Eye is supposed to be a beholder, after all. At least…I hope it doesn’t see me. And the Moon, that means lies and deceit…sure fitting, with all the lies fed to those worshippers. But where’s…_ And then there was suddenly a vast shape in the sky, formed of nebulous starlight and clouds, and only vaguely humanoid. It straddled the Moon, standing on top of it, and there were strands of pure light wrapped about the great eye. The human form held on to those strands, pulling the Moon here and there with them, as if they were reins. _The Chariot! Triumph, that card means…does it mean we will beat the Unseeing Eye?_ "Come on!" she muttered. "That isn't very helpful, is it? Can't you at least tell me how to win?" There was no reply. Instead, the glowing humanoid form simply raised its hand, as if in greeting. Then it disappeared, the Moon along with it. "Hmpf," Rini said. "I guess not. What do you think, Softy?"

_I think I need to groom myself_ , the cat said. _And so should you…your fur is far too messy._

_"I know…later. How did you get here, anyway?"_

_You pulled me along_ , Softpaws said, purring faintly. _You grow stronger, kitten. It is good…you must be, if you ever want to defeat the Empty One._

_Irenicus…_ The name still sent shivers down her spine. "I will be," she said, trying to convince herself. "I will." Right now, there were other things to deal with though. As she spoke with her familiar, the scene around her had changed. No longer was she in the forest clearing, instead she was standing in a great courtyard, surrounded by tall and imposing marble pillars which cast long shadows across the ground. The sun was low in the sky, as red as blood, and its rays played along the drawn swords of the statues lining the walls. Statues of knights, each and every one of them. 

In front of her stood another knight, wearing full plate mail that gleamed with the colours of the sunset itself, and which had the image of a golden cup on the breastplate. The visor on his helmet was down, obscuring his face, and he stood as motionless and impassive as one of the statues. Two figures flanked him, one on each side. The first was a woman, dressed in loose robes, and with long flowing hair. She carried a sword, and her eyes were blindfolded. On the other side stood a man, dressed in simple clothes, and with a melancholy expression on his face. Around his neck hung a noose. "The Knight of Cups, Justice and the Hanged Man," Zaerini stated. "What can you tell me?"

"There is a choice to be made," said the Knight of Cups, and his voice was deep and hollow inside his helmet. He pointed to the other two, one after the other. "Right or left, justice or sacrifice, life or death." 

"Life or death? For whom? And which part is which?"

"That will be your part to determine, Seer. The ultimate choice will not be yours to make, but you will influence it, and much will rest on it. Choose with care, young woman." 

"Yeah…" Rini said, giving the knight an annoyed look. "Isn't that always how it is…so, I guess flipping a coin is out then?" 

The knight did not reply. Instead, he faded into nothingness, taking the Hanged Man with him. Justice remained, but she had changed. The sun had set completely once again, but that couldn't be the only reason why the blindfolded woman's face now looked so sinister, her mouth twisted into a smirk. Next to her, the shadows stirred, and another woman appeared, as if she had stepped out of a door into nowhere. This second woman was shorter and slighter, and the deep cowl of her silvery white robe obscured her face. 

"I know who you are, 'High Priestess'." Zaerini said, her hand seeking the hilt of her sword. "I know all about you. You will not fool me again, Aerie, your game is over." Behind her, she could hear Softpaws hiss loudly. 

There was a bright and tinkling laugh from inside the cowl, like that of falling ice crystals. "Oh no," the woman said, and her voice was instantly recognisable. "You are wrong, little beast. So very wrong. The game is only just beginning, and it is one you cannot win. Fight or flight…I am prepared for both."

"And yet there must be something I can do to beat you. I wouldn't be given this warning if all was hopeless." Zaerini smirked a little, raising her sword. "You have to tell me something…that is how this place works."

Aerie tensed, and when she next spoke her voice came out as a hiss. "I am bound to speak," she said, "much good it will do you. In Amn, power rests with money, and it also rests with a good name. You, in yourself, are nothing. One of your companions, and only one, can foil my plan, but it will never happen." She laughed again. "He might as soon deny the demands of his very honour as defy the demands of the law…good luck corrupting that one, Bhaalspawn. Even I would find it a challenge…and you are but an amateur." 

"Right. And you are a _professional_ bitch…I'm so impressed. Can I have your autograph?" 

Aerie's face was still obscured, but the cold edge in her voice hinted at hear displeasure. "Very amusing, Bhaalspawn. Throw your feeble attempts at insults at me, but know this: Whatever you treasure most, I will see to it that it is taken from you. And in this place, you know I cannot lie." Then she was gone in a sudden swirl of mist, and Rini stood motionless, feeling unease gnaw at her stomach. _Whatever I treasure most…she must have been lying…she must have been._ She knew what the Avariel had to be referring to, that was the worst part. _Edwina…not her!_

_Do not believe the words of that one_ , Softpaws warned, rubbing herself against her mistress' legs. _She slinks around the truth, toying with it as a cat with a mouse._

_But she is right…this is a place of truth._

_But also of half-truths, kitten. Remember that. Look…there is more to see._

Indeed, there was. The courtyard had imperceptibly faded away, and now the half-elf found herself standing in a completely different place. She was in an open fairground, with dry ground densely packed together by many feet, and only a few spare patches of remaining grass. Colourful tents surrounded her on all sides, blue, green, red, purple, and many others. The sun was high in the sky, and the air was filled with the loud cries of performers and merchants trying to attract attention to their various acts and stalls. "The Nashkel Fair," she told herself, looking in wonder at the spectacle. It sure brought back a few memories. She almost expected to see that mage with his exploding ogre, or perhaps that juggler with all the knives. Instead, a merry voice called out from behind her. "Adventures! Explorations! Extraplanar outings! Come one, come all, and join our troop of travellers!" The voice was very familiar to her, as was the face of the speaker when she turned around. He might be wearing an outrageous fool's costume of every colour of the rainbow, but the long blue hair, the sparkling multicoloured eyes, and the devilish grin were unmistakable. 

"Hello, Haer'Dalis," Rini said, smiling in return. "Fancy meeting you here…but I guess I shouldn't be surprised, really. The Fool is all about chaos and wild imagination, isn't he? What's up?"

"Up…down…around and around," Haer'Dalis said, and as he turned around, he displayed the large contraption that was standing behind him. It was a spinning wheel, marked with many numbers and strange symbols. A wheel of fortune, obviously. "You are in bad need of luck, my good Raven. Many foes await you, and a riddle hides the means of defeating this one." He gestured at a grinning skull, lying on the ground beside him. "But solving the riddle is not enough, that would grant you parchment and ink, but not the quill to write with." He eyes gleamed a bright green, and his smile broadened. "Follow me into chaos, my Raven…follow where I lead, and you will find what you need. Lose my trail, and you surely shall fail…" His laughter rang out, bright and sudden, and he made an extravagant gesture. The fairground was gone, replaced by hundreds of pathways, made from pure light. "But remember this…once you jump into the rabbit hole, you cannot go back, only forward. Be prepared…" 

Then he gradually faded from sight, until only his grin hang in the air where he had been, a very odd sight indeed. "Curioser and curioser," Rini said. "What do you suppose that all means, Softy?"

"It means," said a low voice right behind her, "that you are talking to yourself. Please try to keep it down, would you? I am rather busy here." 

As she whirled around, the fairground was gone. Instead, she was standing in a narrow and dark alleyway, where garbage lay heavy on the ground and rats scurried here and there. A sudden squeal and a wave of warm mental satisfaction told her that Softpaws had already discovered the rats. _Oh, nice!_ The cat sounded very pleased. _This is a good hunting ground…and I see you have found the hunter._

_Maybe…but somehow, I don't think it's rats he's after._ The Rogue was standing next to her, almost completely hidden in the shadows around them. He only gave her a brief glance, then when back to watching the alley mouth. "You should not be here," he said, sounding disapproving. "This is one matter that will be better handled with discretion." 

"What is? What are you doing? And have you any idea how worked up Eddie is about you?"

"Ssssh!" Before she could react, he had pulled her closer, putting his hand across her mouth. His cloak was partially wrapped around her, helping to hide her, but she could still catch a glimpse of the alley mouth, where pale light streamed down from a streetlight. "He comes," her companion murmured, his voice almost inaudible, and she could feel him tense up. "Silence." 

She wanted to ask who it was that was coming but thought better of it. And then she could see something…a bright light, coming closer, pulsating wildly. It was familiar somehow…and then she recognised it. It reminded her of the light caused by various spell protections, although this was far brighter than any she had seen before. _A wizard…the Wizard of Swords?_ She could just see the hem of a red robe, coming around the corner…and the last thing she noticed before the vision ended was the Rogue taking a long breath, preparing himself to strike.


	95. Eye of The Beholder

**Cards Reshuffled 95 – Eye of The Beholder**

_It’s funny, the way you can change without even knowing it. There you are, plodding along, thinking you’re just the same as always. And then, all of a sudden, you realize that things have changed, and that the person in the mirror is somebody your old self wouldn’t even have recognized._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Keldorn? If I were to say the word ‘cup’, would that mean anything in particular to you?”

Keldorn blinked a little at the unusual question, turning towards Zaerini. The girl looked back at him, her oddly golden eyes never wavering. Neither that nor her guileless smile fooled him. “This isn’t simply some word association game, now is it?” he asked. “But I see no harm in answering you. A cup…that is simple. All paladins of the Order are granted a golden cup with their name engraved on it, as they become full members. It is a symbol of our acceptance, and our commitment to the ideals of the Radiant Heart.” 

“I see,” the half-elf said, looking a little worried. “A Knight of Cups, for certain. Mind answering another question?”

“Not at all,” Keldorn said, smiling. “Some conversation will help the monotony of this dark road we all walk.” He made a brief gesture at the dripping rock walls of the dark corridor through which the party was walking. “How may I assist you?”

“Well…I was just wondering, how you feel about justice. Or Justice, really. Especially when it comes into conflict with something else. I mean, as a paladin you must have to make some really tough choices, don’t you?”

“That is certainly so,” Keldorn agreed, happy to see a young person taking an interest in such weighty matters. Torm knew that his own daughter Leona never seemed much inclined towards wanting to discuss philosophy. “A paladin must serve justice, and he must also strive to do good, at all times. Though these two ideals often work together easily, sometimes the harmony can be harder to achieve. For example, there may be times when the law of the land does more evil than good, and in such a case a paladin may break the law, if it is truly necessary, and he has no other course of action. Am I clear so far?”

“Sure, I can see that.” 

“Ah, but it gets more complicated still, for the hard part will always be the deciding of when it is right to do so. A paladin who allows evil in the name of righteousness or the law is breaking his vows, but so is one who is ‘a law unto himself’.”

“But that seems impossible to constantly live up to!” 

“It is, for any mere mortal. And paladins are only mortal. Though we all strive to do good, we can have different ideas about how to achieve the greatest good, and we do not automatically make the correct decisions by virtue of what we are. That is why the paladin should take care to ask for divine guidance, whenever he faces a difficult decision and is uncertain of how to handle it. Then, he will be better equipped to do what is right, though of course still capable of making mistakes.”

Anomen nodded, looking pensive. “I agree,” he said. “There are times when we would all do well to look for the divine for guidance, and not to simply rush down the more obvious path.” 

_That boy has certainly done some growing up since I last met him_ , Keldorn thought. _Before, he would have spouted some long tirade about how paladins should never doubt their own decisions. Though parts of this group perhaps aren’t entirely virtuous, traveling with them certainly does not appear to have done him any harm. Quite the contrary, in fact._

“All right,” Zaerini said, looking thoughtful. “I think I see what you mean. But there’s still the problem of knowing when you should ask for guidance, right? I mean, if you’re sure you’re doing the right thing already, you won’t even ask questions, will you?” 

“No, that is true. And so, in the end it all comes down to this – paladins are men and women who strive to do the best they can for others, but we are not celestial beings of pure virtue. Paladins can fail, and if they fail too badly, then they can fall. It is a sad thing, but it does happen.” He cleared his throat. “But I must be wearying you, with all this philosophy. Was there a particular reason why you asked?”

“Maybe,” the girl said, and she still sounded worried. “Something I saw when I did my latest Reading made me think of you. I got the impression that you’ll have an important decision to make soon, maybe more than one. I guess I just wanted to understand how paladins do that a little better. Just…remember to ask for help if you need to make any difficult choices, would you? I have a feeling things could get bad otherwise. Really bad.” 

“My lady,” Keldorn said, bowing a little. “Upon my honor, I swear that I will.” 

Anomen, in turn, was also thinking about honor. He knew that his Test had to be close at hand, and he hoped that he would be found worthy. Certainly, Sir Keldorn seemed to be approving of him so far – and that was something Anomen was woefully unused to. The instructors of the Order had usually tolerated him at the best, and none of them had ever seemed to find him very promising. His fellow squires had rarely even tolerated him, finding fault with his manner, his zeal, and especially with his father. _But my father is behind me, now. I do not wish to ever set eyes upon him again. And when I return to the Order, things will be…different. I am sure of it._ He knew that he had learnt much, while traveling with Zaerini and the others. Not only was he more skilled in battle, by far more important was the fact he now felt a closer connection to his God. _The rage…the anger inside of me…that has been holding me back, dragging me down, all along. But now, now I am finally beginning to learn to control it, or at least to understand the need for control. The justice of Helm should be dispensed firmly, but calmly. It is a Knight I wish to be, not some common thug, after all. Life certainly seemed more complicated these days. There were so many aspects to everything, so many different colors rather than pure and simple black and white. It was hard sometimes, and painful when he thought too hard or too long of it. And yet the beauty is worth some pain, I believe._

“Say, Ano? Are you sure Helm is the god for you?” 

_If perhaps not that much pain._ Anomen sighed, at the sound of the annoyingly cheerful voice at thigh-level. “Yes, Jan. My Lord Helm is the god for me, and I will have no other, until the end of my days. What makes you ask?”

“Well,” Jan said, his eyes twinkling, “what with all these hordes of priests converting to worshipping the Unseeing Eye, I figure I could move in on that job market. The Great God Jan…doesn’t that sound like a wonderful idea to you? I know I may have mentioned it before, but it bears repeating, don’t you think?”

Anomen shuddered as his imagination promptly supplied him with some images. The Great God Jan turning all the stars of the heavens into turnips. The Great God Jan stuffing celestial mousetraps into Helm’s pockets. The Great God Jan telling endless stories, his voice amplified to reach every mortal on the face of the planet. The Great God Jan constructing inventions, using divine powers to create a Celestial Turnip Peeler that was capable of destroying planets. “NO!” he said, and it came out as a choked half-scream. “No, I…I do not think the world is quite ready for such a thing.” 

“Too refined a deity for the masses, undoubtedly,” Edwina dryly remarked. 

“Think so, ‘Dwina?” Jan said. “Will you send me an invitation when you ascend yourself, then? I’d hate to miss that event, I could probably earn a fortune with my cousin Willy Jansen, the bookmaker, by betting on it. There’s an interesting story about him, you know…”

“I will send you an invitation, make no mistake of it,” Edwina said, haughtily sticking her nose into the air. “A personal one too, a ball of hottest hellfire with your name on it. (I must ascend. Not only am I utterly deserving of it and would be the envy of all the other gods for my expertise in shaping up the multiverse, but it is clearly her destiny…she burns too brightly for such a mundane ball of dirt as this world.)”

“Will you both stop speaking of such things!” Anomen said, feeling both shocked and outraged. “It is an affront to the gods!”

“What for?” Edwina asked. “Quite a few of them were once mortal themselves. (I am definitely more deserving than that clown Cyric, for one. And don’t even get me started on the ‘I got my powers by coupling with ‘Pointy Hat Man’ woman.) Anyway, you know perfectly well that the borders between mortals and the gods can sometimes be…indeterminate.” Her eyes drifted towards Zaerini, and her voice fell, taking on a note of undisguised longing. Anomen felt a little brief stab of pain in his chest, and he had to swallow a couple of times. _Helm help me…it still hurts. I walk, and I talk, and I do my daily tasks…and something will remind me of what I do not have. What I will never have. And it hurts._

“Let’s not mention that right now, Red,” Jan said, his voice more serious than usual. “Only need to know basis, don’t you think?” He looked briefly but meaningfully at Keldorn and Haer’Dalis. “Otherwise, it might go as it did for my second cousin, Larry Jansen. See, he didn’t think his wife needed to know about the two half-orc twin sisters he was seeing regularly, or about how they would all take baths together, in strawberry jam of all things. Turns out his wife thought she did need to know…and when she found out, you couldn’t tell poor old Larry apart from the jam. They had to bury the whole tub, very moving ceremony it was too, and at least one of the pallbearers got a hernia…” 

“Will you lot keep it down?” Jaheira snapped from a little way further ahead. “You chatter so much that one can hardly hear oneself think, much less notice any enemies before they are already upon us.” 

Anomen felt chagrined at this, knowing that she was quite right. The fact that he felt his cheeks growing hotter made him feel even more mortified. It felt as bad as having his father chastise him, he thought. _No, worse than that. I do not think I ever respected my father._ He tried to think of some way to explain, to make himself seem less of the clumsy squire, but before he could think of any proper words the druid had already moved on, gracefully slipping ahead into the shadows. 

They were even deeper underground now, having climbed a long and steep staircase into what felt like the very bowels of the world. Anomen thought about the Underdark, that almost mythical, yet far too real dark realm of terrible monsters, evil drown and deadly magic. He wondered whether it was perhaps anything like this, and he hoped that he would never need to find out. Adventures, yes. Glorious battle, yes. Slaying deadly monsters, certainly. But this darkness was beginning to weigh heavily on his mind, and he longed to see light again. _Perhaps it is another test from my Lord Helm. A knight must stand true, or he is no knight. He will go where he is bound to go, into death and despair, and deepest darkness, if that is his duty. And should he die, never to see the sunlit lands again, why then that is his duty too. Though I hope it will not come to that._ After the lich, the next few battles the party had faced had been easy enough to handle. Some minor undead, formless shadows that Anomen had been able to turn away, calling upon the power of the god. Some giant spiders, easily destroyed. _But it is too easy. Far too easy. If there is no worse danger here, then the agents of that foul Unseeing Eye would already have taken what they wanted. Ahead of us, something else is waiting._

Then, he saw the light. Faint, greenish light, pale and wavering, but light all the same. It should have been welcome, but all he could feel was apprehension. The light came from an opening in the tunnel a little ahead, and from what he could tell the tunnel opened up into a larger cave. And there was something else there…something that gave off the odd light. 

“Look…” Zaerini quietly said. “It’s a bridge.” 

And so it was. A bridge of pale stone, almost white, but glowing with that disconcerting light in a way that was probably magical. It led off into the darkness, across a deep chasm in the floor, and Anomen could not make out what lay at the other end of it, nor how long it was. “Best let the strongest of the group lead the way,” he suggested. “If foes await us on the other side, we will then be able to protect the rest of you.” With that, he approached the bridge, trying to seem as confident as possible. Then, there was the metallic rapping sound of a finger against metal, and he looked down to see Jan tapping his armor, smiling in his usual annoying manner. “Just a moment, Ano,” the gnome said. “See what I see?” He pointed at the steps leading up to the bridge. “No? Good thing I’m here then, or you’d have wound up the same way my young nephew, Torin Jansen did, when he went treasure hunting…inside a dragon’s cave.”

“And how was that?” Anomen asked, gritting his teeth. 

“Very well done, Ano. Very well done indeed. Burnt to a crisp, actually.” Jan kneeled down by the steps, carefully examining them. “Yep, thought so…just a little nudge here…a little leverage there…and there we are!” He jumped onto the step, grinning triumphantly. “Ta Da! Amazing, isn’t it?”

“Breathtaking,” Edwina said. “You ought to sell tickets to your next performance. Why, the sheer excitement of it may be enough to make my poor heart fail. (Perhaps we could use him to annoy the Unseeing Eye to death? It seems likely to work.)”

“But ‘Dwina, the point is that you _don’t_ see anything happening, namely no heroic gnome or cleric of Helm getting turned into little bits of charcoal.” 

“Yes,” the wizard said, sounding deeply regretful in a way that Anomen didn’t much care for at all. “I know. Now can we please move on before this bridge crumbles to bits from old age?”

“Ouch…” Zaerini said. The bard had gone on ahead and climbed the first part of the bridge. She didn’t sound pleased with what she was seeing there. “Looks like it did.” 

Indeed, the bridge was broken, split in two. It ended in thin air and went on a fair distance away from where the party was standing, far too far away to jump across. “Oh, great,” the half-elf said. “Just great. A dead end. I guess we’ll just have to…” 

She got no further. Before she had finished her sentence, a hollow voice spoke out of thin air…or perhaps from the bridge itself. “THE BRIDGE HAS FALLEN AND ENDS IN DEATH. CALL FORTH THE NAME TO SUMMON THE PATH. WHAT IS THE BRIDGE?”

“Well, isn’t this lovely,” Edwina said. “As if it wasn’t enough to have various insane semi-cognizant monsters and random madman tormenting us with inane riddles, we now get the extreme pleasure of conversing with architecture. (And a bit of very tasteless architecture at that. It would look far better with some gold paint, and perhaps a few demonic statues here and there…)” 

_Somewhat later…_

“Oh, hang on…” Rini said. “I’m sure I can figure this out.” She stared at the broken bridge in front of her. _I guess it was too much to hope for to get that old chestnut about fish. Ever thirsty, ever drinking, clad in mail, never clinking…but there’s no way fish is the answer._

_Pity_ , Softpaws said. The black cat sat near the edge of the bridge; her ears flattened a little. _In my opinion, fish is always a good answer. Can you smell something?_

_Sewers and bits of monster splatter, sure. It’s all over us…more’s the pity._

_Not that. Something on the other side of the bridge._

_I guess we’ll have to worry about it when we get across. Now let me see…what is it that ends in death?_ After a few moments, she smiled, feeling pleased with herself. “The answer is ‘life’,” she said out loud, and her smile widened as the bridge magically grow in front of her, elongating itself across the chasm. 

“Well done, Little Rini!” Minsc said. “Guessing riddles is a fun game, would you like to hear one that Minsc knows?”

“Sure, why not?” Zaerini said. “How does it go?”

Minsc loudly cleared his throat, and then started reciting, very loudly and very slowly. “Finer treasure than gold, at their best when they’re old. The more you give them, the more you get back.”

“That cannot be very difficult,” Edwina said, tossing her dark hair back across her shoulder. “More valuable than gold…gems would fit, they are smaller and can be carried more easily. Or perhaps spell scrolls…they should certainly be shared with me.” 

“Wrong,” Minsc said, smiling broadly. “Boo says that you are very funny.” 

“Wrong? How can it be wrong, you great big lump of hamster-insanity? And I am not funny! (Unless I wish to be, of course. My finely honed sense of humor and wit is certainly enough to bedazzle anybody.)” 

“’tis truly amazing how blind can be, the one who does not wish to see,” Haer’Dalis mused, winking at the wizard. “The answer is simple…it has to be ‘poems’. Am I not in the right, good warrior?”

“Wrong, wrong!” Minsc beamed, and Haer’Dalis’ face fell. “Oh, this is such good fun, Boo! Remember not to tell anybody what the right answer is.” He dotingly petted the small hamster that was sitting on his shoulder, and Boo squeaked contentedly. “Will anybody else guess?”

Rini thought about it. It seemed to her that the answer had to be a simple one, and an obvious one. Something was nagging at her thoughts…she almost had it. Almost…and then her train of thought was lost, as she spotted what lay ahead of them. “Helm’s Mercy!” Anomen said, looking ready to chew rocks. “Not another one!” Unfortunately, he was right. The bridge had magically elongated, but it hadn’t yet reached the other side of the chasm. Just ahead of the adventurers, it once again ended in emptiness. Then, once again, a disembodied voice spoke. 

“LIFE IS THE BRIDGE THAT MUST END IN DEATH, THOUGH DUTY MAY HOLD IT AT BAY. YOU HAVE SPAKE OF THE BRIDGE BUT THIS ALONE IS NOT ENOUGH. YOU ARE NOT ALONE ON THE BRIDGE. CALL FORTH THE NAME TO SUMMON THE PATH. IT TRAVELS WITH YOU, AND THROUGH IT YOU TRAVEL, AND YET IT DOES LEAVE YOU BEHIND. WHO IS WITH YOU?”

_Hmmm…nope, don’t think ‘fish’ is the answer to this one either. Which is probably for the best. I don’t think I want to travel through fish._

_I would_ , Softpaws said, sounding wistful. 

_I’m sure you would. Ah, I can’t think of a single thing but fish now! That is so typical! You try not to think about fish and then it’s the sole thing on your mind._ “Er…is there a time limit on answering?” she asked the bridge. It seemed to shudder for a moment, but then was still. 

“Of course!” Jan said. “Time, that is the answer! Not that it has to leave you behind as such, not if you have a Jansen Brand time traveling device.” He held up a small box that seemed to be quite empty. “See, I’m planning on eventually inventing a way to store time in one of these, so you can use it later on. You could use it for turnip preservation I suppose…or to show your friends amusing pictures of family events. Say, once I get this thing to work properly I’ll make sure to do that, and show all of you my latest birthday party and the amusing song that cousin Trina sang just before she botched that invisibility spell and disappeared for good…”

The bridge jerked into motion, shooting out as if it was in a great hurry to get away. “Thanks Jan,” Rini told her friend. “I’m sure it’ll be memorable.”

They were almost to the other side when they encountered yet another chasm. This time they could clearly see the ground on the other side of the bridge, dark as it was, but it was still far too far to jump. Once again, the bridge spoke. “TIME IS WITH YOU AND YOU TRAVEL THROUGH IT AND ALL THE WHILE IT MOVES AWAY. TIME GOES ON WITH AND WITHOUT YOU, THOUGH DUTY MAY MAKE IT WAIT. THE BRIDGE IS NOT STABLE, AND THE END CHANGES PLACE. CALL FORTH THE NAME TO SUMMON THE PATH. CHOOSE THE MOST DIFFICULT STEP ON THE BRIDGE.” It shuddered again. “THE GNOME MAY NOT ANSWER THIS TIME, UNLESS YOU WANT ME TO COLLAPSE. ONLY THE LEADER MAY ANSWER.” 

“Hey, I resent that!” Jan complained. 

“Do as it says,” Jaheira said, placing her hand on the gnome’s shoulder. “I have only so many healing spells left, and the same goes for Anomen. We do not wish to heal a lot of broken bones because the thing decided to break down rather than listen to you. Zaerini must answer, it seems.”

_The fish riddle! What’s wrong with the fish riddle? I know the fish riddle, everybody knows the fish riddle, a good dungeon is supposed to have the fish riddle!_ Rini sighed and sat down on the ground to think, her legs crossed beneath her. “The most difficult step…hmmm…” It couldn’t very well be anything related to herself, it had to be general. That ruled out any of the nasty things she had been involved in so far in her life. _If I get this wrong, I bet this bridge will collapse beneath us and kill us all. I can’t get it wrong! I mustn’t. The first step? The last step? I don’t know…_

Then Jaheira sat down next to her, smiling faintly. “Do not worry, child,” the druid said, her voice soothing. “I know you do well with this sort of thing, and I trust you, as do all your friends. You will not fail us; I am certain of it.” 

“Thanks,” the bard said, smiling at her friend. “That means a lot, Jae. It really does. I just can’t help being scared of making the wrong choice…” Her mouth dropped open, as a thought occurred to her. “Of course! The most difficult step across the bridge is the next one, for that is the choice I have to make.” 

The bridge grew once again, finally connecting with the other side. “THE CURRENT STEP MAY BE YOUR FIRST AND MAY ALSO BECOME YOUR LAST. THE OTHER TWO ARE ABSTRACT, THIS ONE IS YOURS TO CHOOSE AND SHAPE, THOUGH DUTY MAY FORCE THE CHOOSING. YOU HAVE SUMMONED THE PATH, AND MAY JOIN IN THE GUARDING. DUTY AWAITS YOU.”

_Finally_ , Softpaws said. _Think there will be any fish on the other side? You’ve made me hungry now, talking so much about it._

_We’ll see, Softy. Somehow, I doubt it though. And I don’t much like that thing about ‘duty awaits you’ either._

Eventually the other side became more and more visible. Of course, ‘visible’ wasn’t a very exact term under the circumstances, given the bad lighting conditions. Rini could barely make out a light gray rectangle against a darker background, and correctly guessed that it had to be an open door, leading to another area. But there was something else…something close by, in the shadows. She could feel the little hairs on the back of her neck standing straight up, and she shivered briefly. There was a faint smell, just as Softpaws had said before. Or perhaps not exactly a smell, more like an electrical tickle of her nose. “Watch it,” she said, her voice tense. “There is something…” 

_Down, kitten!_ The mental shout of her familiar wouldn’t be denied, filled with desperation as it was. Instinctively she threw herself flat on the ground, wincing as the hard stone floor nearly knocked the air out of her. Above her, there was a white flash and a hiss, as a thick lightning bolt passed where her head had been seconds before. As she smoothly rolled away and got to her feet, she saw the creatures facing her, and instantly wished that she’d been up for another round of riddles instead. There were three brown orbs floating in the air, each one mottled with ugly purple streaks, the color of bruises. Each of the creatures had a large central eye, surrounded by a crown of smaller eyestalks, and each of the eyes was filled with cold malevolence as they watched the adventurers. On the underside of the monsters, great maws gaped, filled with sharp teeth. They were creatures out of legend, out of nightmare, and Zaerini knew perfectly well what they were. _Beholders! This is not good…this is very much not good._ “Um…hello there?” she tried, hoping that her voice wouldn’t tremble as badly as her knees. “You’re friends of the Unseeing Eye, are you? Would you know, so are we! In fact, we’re only down here in order to do him a little favor, so if you’d just…” 

Before she had the time to finish the sentence, one of the eyes of the foremost beholder flashed red, and there was a burning pain in her chest, bad enough to make her bend over double. _I…guess they aren’t friends_ , she thought, and then Edwina was suddenly by her side, keeping her steady. The wizard’s face was twisted up with rage, and as she chanted the words to a spell, her eyes seemed to be glowing with the same malice as those of the beholders. Then large chunks of ice and jagged boulders were suddenly raining out of nowhere, falling on top of the beholders. One of them went down, buried beneath the large heap. The others were still very much alive though – and they weren’t happy at all. Their entire bodies were glowing with magical energies, as bright as moons, and wherever their eyes turned, destruction was wrought. 

Having fired off a couple of Magic Missiles at the closest beholder, without much effect, Rini switched to her bow, trying to aim for the eyestalks. Something seemed not to be working properly though. The enchanted and partially insubstantial arrows felt even more fleeting in her fingers than normal, and half the times she couldn’t quite get a grip on them. She noticed that she wasn’t the only one having problems. Both Jan and Edwina were having trouble with their spells, as if the magic wouldn’t affect the beholders properly when applied directly to them. The same could be said for the warriors. Keldorn and Jaheira had taken on one creature, while Minsc, Anomen and Haer’Dalis faced the other one. The bard hummed as he fought, a rapid and disharmonic tune and his two short swords were spinning like a whirlwind. The beholder shied back, trying to protect its eyes from the deadly blades, but unable to keep from losing some. For a moment, it seemed the monsters were about to be driven back, but then they rallied, and each one of them opened its large central eye wide. At once, the warriors faltered, as their weapons suddenly seemed to lose some of their edge. 

“They are Gauths!” Edwina shouted. “Beholderkin that eat magical energies! They must be distracted from using their eyes, or they will weaken us so that we cannot damage them.” 

_They’re using their eyes against us…but they can’t just look at us it seems; they have to aim the eyestalks first. Maybe if I could give them some trouble with that._ “When I change,” she rapidly told Edwina, “pick me up, and hurry up about it.” With that, she immediately slipped into her alternate form of a red cat, and then she felt herself picked up. There was no time to enjoy the pleasure of her lover’s hands holding her tightly though; she knew she had to move fast. She ran up the wizard’s arm and onto Edwina’s shoulder, trying not to use her claws too much. Then, she leapt, landing on top of the closest gauth, right in the middle of the writing eyestalks. Wasting no time, she buried her claws deeply in the mottled flesh, tearing at the eyestalks, biting them as hard as she could. The Gauth squealed with pain. It wasn’t seriously damaged, but it was unable to concentrate properly with the angry cat on top of it like some living furry hat, abusing its vulnerable eyes. Its focus of attention shifted, and that was all it took for Jaheira to ram her staff hard into the central eye. There was a liquid popping sound, and now the Gauth was screaming for certain, biting blindly and helplessly as Keldorn closed in on it. Within seconds it fell, dropping to the ground with a wet sound like a lump of dough landing on a stone floor.

Rini jumped clear just in time and made for the safety of the shadows. However, she found herself blocked by the second Gauth, and the creature didn’t look pleased at all to see her. She only just managed to avoid a second lightning bolt, by virtue of her cat form’s heightened reflexes. The angry beholder floated after her as she ran here and there, taking repeated potshots at her. A lightning bolt struck her in a very embarrassing manner, singing her fur. _OW! That hurt!_

“AAAAARRRGHHHH!” Minsc roared. “Nobody burns the butt of Minsc’s Witch without getting smacked in return. GO FOR THE EYES, BOO! GO FOR THE EYES!” The tiny hamster squealed shrilly and threw itself at the Gauth. Boo actually did go for the eyes…or rather, the central eye. Trying to get rid of him, the Gauth had to attempt to twist its other eyestalks around, in a feeble attempt to watch the top of its own head. This turned out to be a bit of a mistake, as the Gauth learned when Lilarcor slid deeply into its round body. 

“BEHOLD, BEHOLD!” the sword bellowed. “BEHOLDER INNARDS, NICE AND SQUISHY! COME ON YOU GUYS, I WANT CHUNKS!” It didn’t take very long for the sword to get its wish, and when it was all over, there were bits of Gauth all over the ground. 

“Ah, Evil is gooeyfied!” Minsc said, patting first Boo and then Lilarcor encouragingly. “Little Rini? Are you all right?”

“Er…sort of,” Zaerini said, wincing a little as she rubbed her aching rear. Not only were the burns painful, the magic that normally kept her clothes safe during the transformation hadn’t worked properly, possibly due to the Gauth’s influence, and there was a large hole in the seat of her pants. She gingerly backed up against the wall, keeping her back to it while trying hard not to blush. 

“Sort of?” Edwina said, and she had a dangerous look in her eyes as she stalked up to the bard and leant over her. “SORT OF? YOU COULD HAVE DIED! HAVE YOU NO IDEA HOW DANGEROUS THAT RIDICULOUS STUNT WAS?”

“Hey…it worked, didn’t it? And I am alive, so all’s well that ends well, right?” Rini gave her lover a tentative smile. The twitching muscle in Edwina’s cheek wasn’t really a good sign, she thought. “Right? Dread Wizard?”

“You…” Edwina said, breathing heavily. “You…you…bah! (Rogues…just because they’re good at evading certain death, does that mean they have to actually court it?)” Then her eyes softened, and she wrapped her arms around the half-elf, holding her tightly. “Please do not do that again,” she whispered into Zaerini’s ear. 

“I’ll try not to, I promise,” Rini said, tilting her face upwards so she could kiss the other woman. “’Dwina? You’re good at sewing, aren’t you?”

“Certainly not! I am excellent at sewing, as well you should know. Why do you ask?”

“Ah…I just wondered if you might help me out with a little something…things are getting a little drafty back here. A cover up operation would be nice right about now, unless you want all our friends to see more of me than is really necessary.”

Edwina’s eyes darted rapidly from Keldorn, over Jan, Haer’Dalis and Minsc, and finally settled on Anomen. Her eyes narrowed. “I will deal with it immediately,” she said. Then she suddenly blinked. “Friends…of course! The riddle, how ludicrously simple an answer, just as I thought. The answer is ‘friends’. (Very sentimental, of course. I would still prefer spell scrolls, at least in most cases.)” 

“Oh, very well done!” Minsc said, patting Edwina on the shoulder. “Minsc is surprised you got that, but Boo says the Evil Girl Wizard is learning nicely how to be not so very Evil – she will soon be a true Hero, just like Boo and Minsc!” 

Edwina sighed.


	96. Belief and Burglary

**Cards Reshuffled 96 – Belief and Burglary**

_Necessity sometimes forces one to enter into strange partnerships. If so, I find it best to establish at an early stage just what one is likely to get out of it, and how strong the necessity is. Also, whether it is going to be short-term or long-term, and whether or not the other person needs to know that. In general, I find it most prudent to work on a need to know basis, and I’m usually the only one who needs to know._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

“Hello.”

Edwina stared in disbelief at the man who had just uttered this seemingly commonplace phrase. It wasn’t the word itself that jarred her. No, it was the bored and disinterested attitude, in this place, and from that…person. If you could call him that.

The adventurers had followed short tunnel away from the bridge where they had encountered the beholders, and it had opened up into a larger cavern, where narrow stone bridges crisscrossed a subterranean lake. The water was dark, and perfectly still, except for the occasional moments when something splashed briefly. Zaerini had muttered something about ‘fish at last’, which Edwina completely failed to understand. She hoped that the darkness and the tons of rock above weren’t affecting her lover’s mind, but the half-elf seemed otherwise normal and healthy. That was more than could be said for Edwina herself. She still had a splitting headache, and the dull ache in her back didn’t seem to want to go away either. Her legs were aching too, and she felt…bloated, like a toad, if not as ugly as one. And certainly not as ugly as the creature currently standing in front of her. 

The bridges across the water all came together at a small island in the middle of the lake, and on the island stood an old temple. At least Edwina thought it was a temple. Its rocks were mostly crumbling, and covered with slime, and although there was a statue in front, its features had long since eroded away. You couldn’t even tell if it had been human, elf, orc, or something completely different, or what gender it had once been. In front of the temple stood a small group of people, each one about as attractive as the statue. There were men, women, and children, all of them looking like refugees from some terrible plague. Their skin was clammy, covered with terrible sores oozing thick pus, and the flesh around the sores was black and dead. The hair of the afflicted ones was matted, and coming out in clumps, they were so emaciated that they looked about to break in two if one were to breathe on them, and their limbs were gnarled and twisted. But it was their eyes that was the worst thing. Eyes set deep in sunken hollows, eyes without life, without hope, without even despair. But not dead, no. Whatever else these people were, they were not zombies or any other form of undead that Edwina had ever seen or heard about. She was forced to conclude that they were alive – if horribly diseased. 

The one who had spoken stood closest to the temple and might possibly be the leader of the group. Having spoken his greeting, he watched the adventurers with the same bored, hopeless look on his face as his fellows. “Hello?” Zaerini said, raising a delicate red eyebrow. “That’s it? We’re a group of strangers walking up to a lost and buried temple that you guys are guarding, and that’s all you have to say?”

“Yes,” the man said in the same monotonous drone as before, and then he stared into empty space for a few seconds, seemingly having lost interest. Eventually he blinked. “What, are you still here? Go away. You bore me.”

“Oh, that is rich, coming from somebody who looks like what Demogorgon digs out of his four flaring baboon nostrils every morning and is equally charismatic,” Edwina hissed. “You will show proper respect for those superior to you, or I will help you bow properly, preferably by removing your legs at the knees. (From a distance, preferably. These disgusting creatures look as if they had never heard of proper facial treatment.)”

The man looked at her, maddeningly enough without the slightest sign of fear. “Oooh, yes, very threatening. I suppose you are expecting the appropriate response. All right then. Oh my, please spare us. Your descent into our city makes us oh so fearful.” He shrugged. “I'm sure it would make you feel important, but I've simply no interest in you. I think you'll find we care about very little at all.”

“Very little?” Zaerini asked. “What do you care about then? Who are you? And what is that disease you all seem to have?”

The man rolled his eyes, and for a moment Edwina hoped they would fall out of his skull. “Ah, you wish the exposition. Typical. I should really write this down, so I don't have to keep repeating it. Not that we have had a lot of visitors. We are the guardians. We guard the temple. This is very important because every few hundred years someone almost wanders this way. We have forgotten what it is that we guard, we have forgotten how many generations we have been here, and we have forgotten what it is to have a purpose.”

“In other words,” Edwina summed things up, “you are a rare collection of simpletons, and undoubtedly your brains are as rotted as your skin. (I hope they are not contagious. I would hate to see my flawless face deteriorate like that.)” Then something occurred to her. _But…what if I already am contaminated? I have been feeling unwell, after all._

_I think you should let one of the healing persons take a look at you, Boss_ , Insufferable chimed in. The little monkey was currently sitting on Edwina’s shoulder, holding on to a strand of her hair. _You don’t feel so good._

_I know I don’t! Be silent now, I wish to hear what they say._

_See? You’d never snap at me like that if you weren’t sick. I’m your cute and fluffy familiar after all._

_Yes, yes. Now hush._

“Yon magnificently destructive lady mage lets her sharp darts of dastardly recrimination fly true,” Haer’Dalis said. The bard eyed the diseased man with a look of barely hidden disgust on his face. “You are decaying, entropy wishes to claim you, yet you linger here? If your purpose is done with, then you should fly far from here, not cling to empty duties as a child might cling to a favorite blanket even once it’s filthy and threadbare.”

If the diseased man was angered by Haer’Dalis’ accusing tone, he did not show it. “We cannot leave. We cannot even die. We are born again in an endless recycling of our souls. We learn over and over again that we are condemned to a fate we no longer want.”

Haer’Dalis shivered briefly, then shook his head. “To be kept in such a state…unchanging, even unable to change…that is monstrous indeed. What creature has the power or the desire to inflict such a fate upon you?”

“Do not encourage them,” Anomen snapped. The cleric was scowling, and his moustache was actually quivering with indignation as he turned to the diseased man. “You there! You were the servant of a god once, a priest? You had faith in your god, and now you wish to abandon your duties as you have abandoned the god you once served? No wonder you are rotting, faithless ones! Tell me then the name of the god that temple was built for, for I hold the hope dear in my heart that such laxness is not found in the hearts of my own brethren in faith!” 

Jaheira stepped forward, shoving past the Helmite in the process, and she gave a little indignant snort as she did so. “You speak with less sense than I would expect from you,” she said. She pointed her quarterstaff at Anomen’s chest, rapping it lightly against his armor with a clanging sound. “Can you not see that these people are bound in an unnatural circle of suffering? They serve no purpose, they simply suffer. Is your god so rigid and cruel then, that he would have them hold on to a duty that no longer makes sense?”

“That is not the point, lady Jaheira,” Anomen said, straightening his back so that he looked even stiffer than usual. “A duty once accepted is not to be abandoned, such is the ultimate betrayal. Commitments must be honored, obligations must be fulfilled, even should pain or death be my only reward. Scorn me if you wish, my lady, but even your full fury would not sway me had my Lord Helm sent me down a certain path. I expect no less from any man of faith, nor any more than I would give myself.” 

Edwina found this entire exchange excruciatingly boring. She had never been much for religion herself; it was so obviously inferior to magic that it was hardly worth paying attention to. She paid her dues now and then, and that was the limit of her interest. 

“Well Ano,” Zaerini said, sounding just as exasperated as Edwina felt, “that may be the case, but we don’t know that these people are Helmites, do we?” 

“We are not,” the diseased man said, “although few enough of us remember it. It has been so long since we have uttered the god's name it has been forgotten by most. What loyalty do we owe a creature that would condemn us to this?”

“Your suffering is clear for all to see,” Keldorn said, nodding. “This disease that afflicts you all – what is it? And might we not help you? Torm does not grant me the power of healing, I fear, but both young Anomen here and the Lady Jaheira have the skill.” 

The man shook his head. “It is the decay of our minds and souls. We grow to hate the power that sustains us, so it rots us from the inside. There is no cure. There is no escape. There is no end.” 

“I could easily cure them,” Edwina muttered, crossing her arms across her chest. “A few well aimed spells should silence the wailings of these fools for good and spare us the need to listen to their annoying chatter. (They are even more depressing than that annoying elf we met in the Nashkel mines.) Waste your time on chattering with them if you must, but I will not.” She took a few steps towards the rear of the group, determined to ignore any more talk of gods, be they dead or living, and not to have anything to do with disgusting diseased people. It wasn’t as if she was used to such things. She had been mostly healthy all her life, and her mother had made certain that a healer was sent for anytime she happened to contract something that seemed even mildly serious. Sometimes even before that. She could recall one time when she must have been pretty small, and she had overheard her teacher patiently informing her mother that an illness or two as a child was better than contracting them as an adult, and her mother retaliating with the statement that she wanted her ‘baby’ to actually become an adult, and that meant proper care. What the outcome had been she couldn’t recall, but she certainly always tended to avoid sick people as much as possible. 

These particular sick people seemed intent on staying in contact with her though. She felt something tugging on her robe and looked down, to see a small girl, perhaps eight years old or so. But her eyes were lifeless and hollow, devoid of joy, much as those of the adults, and the same terrible sores covered her. The sweet stench of rot hovered about her. Edwina swallowed heavily, trying not to breathe too much. 

“You wanna see what we made?” the child asked, her voice just as monotonous and dull as that of the grown man. “You go into the temple and see what we made. We can't because it's ours. We forget. You can see it but cannot fight it.”

_Awwww, poor little thing!_ Insufferable said. The monkey huddled closer to Edwina’s neck, sounding truly unhappy. _You’ll be nice to her, won’t you, Boss?_

_I am a wizard, you know. A supreme master of the arcane, a seeker of forgotten lore, a wielder of earth-shattering powers. And you want me to ‘be nice’? Monkey, you are clearly suffering from some esoteric form of brain rot, no doubt brought on by the close proximity to these creatures, and…_ Edwina looked at the child again. The girl wasn’t watching her expectantly. Not like a normal child would have. She was simply…standing there. As if nothing the wizard had to say could possibly matter in any way, because this girl’s existence was completely without any glimmer of hope. “Er…your words give an impression of age beyond your years, urchin,” she said. “How old are you?” 

The look in the sunken eyes never changed. There wasn’t even despair there, that was the worst thing. Only tiredness. “I am nine years in this life. They say my soul is the oldest of us. I am tired. Go see what we made. It's pretty. I wish I could see it. Can't fight it.”

“You made something that you cannot see?” Edwina asked, absentmindedly twirling a lock of her hair around her finger as she tried to puzzle out the meaning of this. “What are you implying? Some form of illusion spell? Is that it?”

The girl shook her head. “The fanatic is always right. Cannot see his hatred. It is his, but he cannot see.”

“Well, that was singularly unhelpful,” Edwina said. “And what do you mean you cannot fight it?”

There was a glimmer of faint emotion deep within the lifeless eyes, but what it was, Edwina could not say. “Send our thoughts to the temple, we do. Thoughts of wounded faith. Can you fight a wound in faith? Go away. My fun is done years ago.” She hobbled away, a bent and broken little shadow of a child, and Edwina watched her leave. It was…oddly painful to watch. _I never walked like that as a child._ The thought was a fleeting one and felt strangely disconnected. Then there was a light touch on her arm, and she turned around to see Zaerini watching her curiously. 

“Hey…what was that all about?” the half-elf asked, and her golden eyes looked unusually serious. “We’re about ready to go inside…seems they won’t stop us. Apparently, they all have been here so long that they hate whatever power it is that keeps them alive, and that turns it sour so that it eats them alive. What did the kid say?”

Edwina explained. “Nothing very helpful, of course,” she said. “But I sacrificed myself all the same, patiently trying to worm information out of the little brat. (As usual I succeed where all others fail. And now to clear out that cave of whatever creature resides inside. Letting his servants decompose with despair…as I thought, the folly of putting your faith in deities is proved once more. I should like to put an end to this, bringing a god down would be a suitable accomplishment to speak of back home.)”

_And you would probably make that little one really happy too, Boss! Good for you!_

_Yes, I…no! No! That is not of the slightest interest to me, and you know it! Though if it should be the accidental, and dare I say entirely inconsequential result of my advanced application of magery, then I would not be opposed to such a thing._

_Sure Boss. Whatever._

“Edwina?” Zaerini asked, smiling that smile that always made the wizard’s heart beat a little faster. “You coming?”

“Yes,” Edwina said. “Certainly.” I think I’ll call myself Godslayer afterwards…

_Meanwhile…_

“Well, my friend, it appears that you and I will be working together. How curious that our dear employer should order such a thing – do you think she perhaps intends for us to compete for her approval?”

“Actually,” Dekaras dryly said, “I suspect that she intends for both of us to keep an eye on the other one. Not very trusting of her, I will admit, but I suspect that trust will earn a vampire a stake through the heart more often than not, so I cannot exactly blame her.” 

“Ah,” Yoshimo said with a small grin. “We will both watch each other carefully then, and perhaps afterwards I may treat you to a new experience? There is a Kozakuran inn, newly opened in the Promenade, and it even survived the recent destruction there. It has been a long time since I sampled the delicacies of my homeland – would you care to try them along with me? After all, keeping an eye on each other will be so much simpler if we are both in the same place and know what the other one is doing.”

“It would be my pleasure,” the assassin replied. “However, I believe I will pass on that particular fish course I have heard about, the one that is highly poisonous if prepared by an inexperienced cook. Being poisoned under any circumstances would be embarrassing enough but being accidentally poisoned by some bumbling kitchen aide would be quite unbearable.”

“It is agreed, then! But business before pleasure of course.” 

“Of course.” 

The two rogues silently walked side by side through the tunnels of Bodhi’s lair, until they eventually emerged in the graveyard. The sun had just set, but there was still a trace of red in the sky, against which the tombs stood out in clear relief. Dekaras was grateful for the fact that his companion seemed content not to speak for the moment, since he wanted to think things through properly. Bodhi had summoned both him and Yoshimo and had explained that she wanted them both to break into a certain city residence, belonging to a powerful Cowled Wizard. It wasn’t the death of the mage she sought, though she would not care if they should decide to eliminate him in order to achieve their goal. No, what she wanted was some documents that she had learnt the man had in possession, maps of the place known as ‘Spellhold’. She hadn’t said what she wanted with them, but Dekaras could guess well enough. Bodhi sought her brother, the man also known as Irenicus, and these documents would undoubtedly help her with that task. She wasn’t the only one who might benefit from them though. If only Yoshimo wasn’t along, the path to Imoen would be much clearer. _And that would be exactly why he is along._

Dekaras didn’t think that Bodhi had any idea of his true agenda, if so, she would have tried to kill him already. No, she was only being suspicious in general, and unwilling to trust either him or the other rogue alone with this crucial mission, inconvenient as that was. Had it not been for Yoshimo’s company, he could simply have taken the documents for himself, and then gone directly to Edwin and the others. _Should I kill him, perhaps?_ The assassin didn’t doubt that he would be capable of that, should it come down to it. Yoshimo was good, but not good enough, although he certainly had potential. _He is wary of me of course, but would that be enough to save him? Probably not…but there may be a better opportunity later. All it would take is him letting down his guard for a moment._

There was, of course, the added possibility that Yoshimo might be having the same thing in mind. The younger man had said little to nothing about himself, which wasn’t surprising for one in their profession, but there was something about him…something that shone through now and then. A little hint of desperation, as if he had an agenda of his own, quite apart from Bodhi’s. That might make him a possible ally, but it might just as well make him an enemy. He was an unknown factor, and Dekaras didn’t like that much. Removing him from the equation would probably be for the best. _A pity. I rather liked him._ The assassin let himself drop behind the other man. Only by half a step at first, hardly enough to notice, then a little more. Just enough to be able to take him by surprise. He made certain to keep breathing at exactly the same pace as before, to neither slow nor quicken the pace of his footsteps. Yoshimo might not have his own experience, but the man was no fool. The night seemed to come alive around him, swelling with a thousand little sounds and scents as he focused his full attention on the other man. Almost there now. A brief fluttering sound above him attracted his attention, and a small shadow flitted through the twilight. A bat. It might be only a regular one – but in this time and place, it would be a bad idea to take that chance. Yoshimo might yet die this night, but not while one of Bodhi’s fledglings was watching it. 

Yoshimo turned around, his teeth flashing white in the semi-darkness. “Beautiful night, is it not? Perfect for a little adventure and excitement.” 

Dekaras watched the vampire as it disappeared between the headstones. He didn’t trust it to have gone far enough though. _No. I will have to wait for later._ “I can do without ‘exciting’,” he said. “But I believe it might actually be somewhat interesting.” 

The mansion to which the two rogues had been directed was situated in the southern part of the Government District, and a very luxurious place it seemed to be indeed. Behind the high wall that surrounded it was possible to make out a steep roof, and the hint of dark windows. Carefully peering through the tall iron gate, which was topped with nasty spikes, they could see that the walls of the mansion were partially covered with tall and clinging rose bushes. “The lock is not too difficult,” Yoshimo murmured. “And the trap on it is a regular poison one. Shall I handle it?”

“You do that,” Dekaras replied. “In the meantime, I will see about handling them.” He made a brief gesture towards the house where two dark shadows glided along the wall. Guard dogs, and large ones. Possibly with a bit of worg mixed in. 

Yoshimo’s eyes widened just a little bit as he spotted the dogs, but then he kept silent, wisely enough. It wouldn’t do to let the dogs raise the alarm, after all. _In fact_ , Dekaras thought, _it would be best to keep them alive. That will attract less notice later on._ The dogs differed from human guards in that they didn’t follow any particular route, instead trotting here and there in the garden. Mostly they seemed to stick together though, which would make things easier. The assassin decided that the gate was probably his best option. He thought he could climb the wall, but it would take more time, and he didn’t want to waste any more than he had to. Right now, the wind was in his and Yoshimo’s favor, but if it should turn away from them the dogs would be bound to catch their scent. It would mean having to aim through the bars of the gate of course, which was inconvenient, but not impossible. He reached into one of his pockets and drew out two darts. _Perfect._ One dog yelped slightly as the dart hit its neck, the other simply toppled. Within seconds, both of them were snoring heavily, tongues lolling out. Yoshimo nodded, in brief acknowledgment, and shortly thereafter the lock clicked open. “Shall we enter the lair of the dragon, then?” he said with a brief smile. 

“After you,” Dekaras said. His own smile had a definite grim edge to it. “And we had both better hope that this wizard doesn’t keep a tame dragon in addition to his dogs. You never know what wizards might have in their homes, and to take one of those down in the same manner would mean so many darts that I would need a cart for them, and it tends to be somewhat complicated to be silent when you’re dragging a cart. Not to mention that the dragon would become very angry somewhere between the first and the second one.”

Yoshimo nodded, and his eyes looked oddly distant for a moment. “No,” he said, and his voice was toneless. “You never know what a wizard might be up to, in that you are quite correct.” Then the smile slid smoothly back into place. “But all will be well, I am sure.” 

_Interesting_ , Dekaras thought as he accompanied the other man towards the house, pausing only to hide the two dogs under a bush. That remark about wizards had sounded as if Yoshimo bore them some sort of personal grudge. But there was no time to think too much of it at the moment. He noticed in passing that the rose bushes that were climbing up along the walls of the mansion looked partially withered, a shade of their former glory, as if nobody had taken good care of them recently. Yoshimo seemed to have noticed the same thing. The Kozakuran pointed at a small fountain, which was dry and cracked. There was just the barest hint of green slime on the bottom of it, and some bugs. _Decay – but why? Something has changed in this place, and fairly recently, or the flowers would be completely dead, not just faded._ Curious as he was though, there was a mission to accomplish. The personal life of Deril the Cowled Wizard was less important than the maps in his possession. 

About forty minutes or so later, Dekaras was busy examining the private study of the wizard Deril. The man himself didn’t seem to be home, and there was a surprising lack of servants. Of course, a wizard sometimes would have servants of a less mundane nature, but none had been spotted so far. Which was all for the best, since it gave him and Yoshimo more or less a free run of the house. They had decided to split up, so that they would be able to search the premises quicker, and hopefully be done before Deril returned. Right now, Yoshimo was on one of the upper floors, and Dekaras had just discovered a locked cabinet in the study that seemed promising. There was a particularly nasty poison gas trap on it, so it was likely to hold something important. He would have to take some time and care with that, but there was no doubt in his mind that he could do it. _And if it has the necessary documents, then it will be time to depart this place, discreetly and preferably alone._ He might not even have to kill Yoshimo, not if he should come across the documents on his own. Of course, there was the risk of the other man having similar plans – but that could not be helped. 

The assassin listened carefully. Had there been the tiniest noise around the corner of the half-open door? Yes, there definitely had. Quietly, he sniffed the air. Yes, there was the faint scent of new leather in the air. Yoshimo, then. The Kozakuran had a new leather armor, very finely made, but had apparently not realized that it made it easier to keep track of him. Dekaras wasn’t about to tell him either. There wasn’t a strong smell, and it was certainly nothing that Deril would be likely to notice, but as for himself, he definitely wanted the advantage of knowing if Yoshimo was close by. “Found anything of interest?” he blandly asked, not turning around. 

There was a very brief silence, only a few seconds. “Yes,” Yoshimo said, his voice neutral. “I did, up in the attic. It is not what we are searching for, but I still think you will find it interesting.” 

What Yoshimo had found, it turned out, was a small room up in the attic, with a heavy padlock on it that the bounty hunter had already opened. The room itself was mostly bare. There was a dirty mattress on the floor, with some dark stains on it. Blood stains, in fact. The window was partially obscured by the heavy bars in front of it, but Dekaras had certainly seen enough blood stains to recognize them when he saw them. No furniture, except for the mattress. “And look at this,” Yoshimo quietly said, pointing at the inside of the door. Dekaras took a closer look. There were scratches there, and some more blood. And there, close to the floor, something else. Something that was stuck in the door. The assassin reached down, and pulled the small and hard object out, then held it up in his palm for Yoshimo’s inspection. 

“Merciful Ilmater…” Yoshimo whispered. “A human fingernail? Who would…” 

“Somebody,” Dekaras said, “who was very desperate to get out of this room.” He looked at the nail again. “It is relatively small; I would guess that it belonged to a woman. A woman who had been locked in this room for quite some time, most probably.” _And a prisoner who is in enough pain will do just about anything to escape, as I should know._ “This Deril, do you know anything about him? Does he have a wife? Sister? Daughter, perhaps?” 

Yoshimo looked slightly ill. “A wife, I believe. But I have never seen her, only heard her mentioned in passing. I heard that she was a…recluse. One who would not leave the house willingly.”

“Yes,” Dekaras said. He was still looking at the torn nail. There was blood on it where its roots had been torn free. “That would be a convenient explanation to give, wouldn’t you say? 

Before Yoshimo had the time to reply, there was the sound of voices, rising up from downstairs, then a slammed door. Silently, the two rogues moved down the attic staircase, wanting to be less shut in, in case it should suddenly become necessary to escape the house. However, that did not seem to be necessary just yet. 

“Come in then, my dear friend,” said a male voice that managed to sound both ingratiating and arrogant at the same time. “Let us go to my study…I have a fine bottle of brandy in there. And I need to put some papers away, too.” 

“I do not drink,” said a second voice, and this one was dry and emotionless. “Do not try my patience with your foolishness, Deril.”

“But my dear Lagole…”

“No. We have a contract, as you well know. Business is what I am here for, and that is all. You will have what you wish, as long as you grant me what I desire. Now let us go and discuss the details.” 

A door closed, presumably the study door. Dekaras thought about his options for a moment. Then, he went into the shadows. Any ‘business’ that Deril was involved in was bound to be unpleasant, but information was always valuable, and perhaps Deril might let slip something about where he happened to keep valuable documents. As he approached the door, he was pleased to find that it wasn’t entirely closed. There was a small crack open, and he could see into the study with no particular difficulty. Only the back of Deril’s head was visible, from across the top of a large armchair, but his guest was visible and…. _Well now_ , Dekaras thought, studying the creature sitting in the opposite chair. It wore a luxurious mage robe, that only partially obscured its grey and papery skin, and it had deep eye sockets. Within those holes were pinpricks of red light. _A lich. This keeps getting more and more interesting, for certain._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you don't recognize the name, Deril is the wizard of Cernd's subquest. I always found Cernd particularly boring and hardly ever use him for long, but I really like this quest and often take the time to do it. I had fun working it into Dekaras' and Yoshimo's subplot.


	97. Faith and Fatality

**Cards Reshuffled 97 – Faith and Fatality**

_Everybody has to believe in something in order to stay sane. It might be gods, it might be the law, it might be love or freedom, power or chaos. All those are great big things, so it’s better to start out by believing in something small, that is close by. Because unless you believe in yourself, then you’ll find it hard to fully believe in anything else either. Of course, for many of us, believe in yourself is the hardest thing there is._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Hate is here! Here is hate! Attack with anger and feed the hate! The hate!”

The voice of the creature that was storming towards him grated against Anomen’s soul like the sound of a fork scraping across a plate. The interior of the abandoned temple was shadowy, and he could not make out many details, but he could see the thing that lurked here well enough. At first his eyes had deceived him, and he had thought it a mere amorphous shadow, but now he could see it clearly. It was Lord Cor who was coming towards him, his bloodshot eyes filled with malice, drool running across the greying stubble on his unshaven chin. His father looked large, a hulking brute, far larger than he should, towering over Anomen. I am as a child before him…as I always was. Part of him tried to protest, to tell him that no, it wasn’t true. _Not always. I defied him…did I not? I remember it…_

“Ungrateful, worthless runt!” his father sneered. “You always were a disappointment to me, Anomen. Running off to become one of those snivelling pray-boys of the Order…throwing everything away to become a god’s slave.” 

“No…” Anomen whispered. “Not slave…servant.” He tried to focus on his god, to shut the hateful words out, but it seemed impossible. “I serve willingly. I know my duty, father.” 

“Do you? Do you really? Then how is it that your sister lies dead, and still unavenged?” 

The words cut him, tore at his soul like poisoned talons. _Moira…_

Cor was smiling now, smiling in ugly triumph. “How do you think your sweet sister would look upon you now Anomen, could she see you? I will tell you. She would spit on you, spit on you and call you a traitor.” 

“Nooooooooo!” Anomen hardly recognized the guttural roar as coming from his own throat. The rage, the dark and familiar rage was upon him, wanting to destroy, to slay. I spared you once, father. Not again. The Flail of Ages rose and fell, glittering sparks jumping from it as it struck. And yet Lord Cor simply stood there, smiling, and he looked not the least bit distressed. Instead he seemed even larger than before, and more powerful. Anomen snarled, frustration gnawing him. 

LOOK ABOUT YOU, MY SERVANT. LOOK, AND THIS TIME USE WHAT I GRANT YOU, AND SEE TRUE. THIS DAY, YOUR HANDS SHOULD HEAL, NOT HARM.

The voice was like the toll of a huge bell, echoing throughout his soul, filling Anomen suddenly with deep awe. He had on occasion heard it whisper quietly to him, almost impossible to make out. But this…this made everything worth it. The heavy duties, the sacrifices, the long hours of praying. All of it paled to nothing compared to the ecstasy of hearing the voice of his God. The rage faded away, replaced by icy calm. This was not so for his companions, however. He could see them all staring at the spectre before them, in obvious horror and revulsion. He was not the only one who had attacked it either. Jaheira was trying her level best to beat it to a pulp with her staff, and Jan kept firing his crossbow at it. Keldorn was on his knees, praying. Haer’Dalis stood as still as a statue, his eyes blank, and Edwina was bent over double, retching dryly. Zaerini was also on the floor, but not praying. Tears kept streaming down her cheeks, and she would sob now and then, a heartbreaking sound that made Anomen wish to comfort her. _It is not my father that they see. How could it be? None of the others except Sir Keldorn have ever laid eyes upon him, and he would not affect them this way. They see…something else._

The words to the prayer felt sluggish in his mouth, as if he could not speak them quickly enough. Every instinct screamed to him to attack, to defend, to protect. But he must not, he understood that. As he finished speaking, the image of his father disappeared, leaving only a faded, wraithlike creature behind. It was almost invisible, resembling nothing so much as a bit of mist, but it had eyes. Such eyes… They were ancient, those eyes, and filled with pain and despair. _To heal, not to harm._ Anomen took a step closer, reaching out his hands. And then he could feel the power of Helm streaming through him, filling him entirely and then flooding into the miserable being before him. 

There came a deep sigh from the suffering creature, and the mists scattered and fled. Light came in their stead, muted and dim, but still light. And the light came from the man who stood where the mist being had been, a man who Anomen instantly knew was far more than a man. His features were regular, if not remarkable, his short hair the shining colour of gold, and he was wearing only a brief white tunic and a pair of sandals. Light radiated from him, illuminating ancient murals on the walls of the temple, and an altar at the far end, made from what seemed to be pure gold. Sunburst motifs seemed common. When he spoke, his voice was faint, almost a whisper, yet simultaneously echoing as if it came from the other end of a long tunnel. “Whoooooo walks in the temple of I?” he moaned “Speak of yourself, you are almost beyond the sight of I.”

“The ‘temple of I’?” Edwina said, raising her eyebrows. “Oh, isn’t this just wonderful. We come across an actual deity, and he turns out to be a pretentious fool with no grasp on grammar to speak of. (I could be a better god if I was doing it in my sleep, and needless to say a better looking one.)”

“Sssh!” Zaerini admonished the wizard. “If he’s really a god, it will not be a good idea to piss him off, ‘Dwina. Who knows what he’d do? But if we’re nice, he might help us out.” She smiled at the glowing man and gave him a little wave. “Hi there! So, who are you then? Nice place and all…very private. Yours? And that beastie…was that yours too?” 

The glowing man looked a little confused at this. “The temple is I and I am the temple. It is to me and of me. The beast is not I. The beast does kill my form repeatedly. You have slain it for but a small time. It comes again and again. The beast is a fell deity, for it has more power than I can muster. My legion of followers feed the creature, and I am weakened and fading. Such power the beast has.”

“You have no followers,” Haer’Dalis said, his eyes glittering in dazzling green and violet. “Time has taken its toll, faith as waned as the sea erodes the rock. It is as it must be, as it should be. Even gods decay and fall, and glorious is such a fall to witness, as it makes the very planes tremble. Mortals cannot stand against entropy, no more than gods can. Keeping them trapped thus…as flies in amber…” He made a disgusted grimace, and then his smile immediately reasserted itself, as if he had realized that he had shown too much emotion. “But the tale of a withering god is one to treasure, my good buzzard. I will do it as much justice as it deserves.” 

“Buzzard?” Anomen heard Keldorn mouth behind him. 

“I think,” Jaheira whispered back, “that he means the ‘feeding’ off of the people out there.” Then she raised her voice. “What he says is true – if not courteous. Your people have lost faith long ago, they die and are reborn again and again, guarding against foes that do not come. All they direct at this temple is loathing, not prayers.” 

“I…begin to see now,” the faded god moaned. “Then it is little wonder I cannot defeat the beast. It is their loathing and pathos, and it has become their object of worship, whether they know it or not. The contract was…very specific. It stated that the Great Device should be guarded until the end of time. A binding contract must not be broken, and yet…my people are suffering, and their hatred has diminished me, even as the…Great Device itself has waned in power, and is not so epic a danger as once I thought.” Shining tears rolled down his face, glittering like tiny suns. “I weep for my children. Their hate sustains this place, though they would intend otherwise. Had they not thought of me at all I would have perished, and soon after so would they.” Anomen felt his heart wrench at this sad statement. To suffer so…and for what cause? “I am too weak,” the avatar went on. “Too weak to provide the sign they need, that will…deliver them.”

“About that Device you are guarding…” Zaerini said. “We really, really, really need it. Do you suppose we might have it? I mean, you’re not using it for anything, are you? And we’d bring it back. Honestly.” 

The god hesitated. “The letter of the bargain was that I protect the great device until the end of time. The creator races were very specific. I will reinterpret the words, for it is surely the end of MY time. The intent of the bargain was that the great device would not be used again. If it is indeed the 'end of time,' then my last act should be to destroy it. I have not the power to do so.”

“What,” Keldorn asked, “would give you such power?”

The god promptly answered. “Faith. The belief and conviction of my followers is the lifeblood of power. There must be a way to spur their faith. Open your mind. Perhaps you have knowledge of use.” Then a slow smile spread across that dimly glowing face. “Yes, I see in your mind the way to release this place. You seek the great device for another, though you owe them no allegiance and they intend to kill you. The cause is simple. You will take the great device, the piece that I possess, and you shall combine it with the piece the creature already has. The assembled rod would surely destroy the beast. Only…promise me that you will tell my children that it is by my will that you take it, and by my will you will bring it back. Perhaps that…will strengthen them.” 

“Yes, yes, yes,” Edwina said, making a little impatient wave with her hands. “Of course, we will bring back this insanely powerful artefact that frightens the very gods. (Eventually. At the proper moment. In the fullness of time, and after close consideration. I am not about to let it out of my hands until I have fully explored all its interesting possibilities.)”

“I must…warn you,” the avatar said. “Use it but once, or you will perish under its power. And do not…attempt to bring it to the surface, or you would surely die.” 

Edwina’s face fell. “Er…surely?”

“Surely.” 

“That will not be a danger,” Keldorn said, with a stern look at Edwina. “We would not dream of not honouring the agreement.” 

“Right…of course,” Zaerini said, and she nudged the wizard slightly. “Whatever. And don’t you think you’ve played around with enough powerful magical artefacts…Edwina?” 

“I would be perfectly careful with it, taking every necessary precaution and using it only after patient study!”

“Mmm…still, I think we’ll not chance it.” The half-elf turned to the avatar again. “I don’t suppose you’d be able to rid Edwina here of a certain curse, and give her back her normal body? We’d be very appreciative.” 

The god shook his head. “I…can barely keep my own form together. In moments I will…fade again. Please…the Rift Device…you must…” Then his form seemed to dissolve, melting into a light blur, and then he was completely gone. 

Zaerini sighed and pulled her fingers through her read hair. “Didn’t think so. No, that would be way too easy. Well, maybe he’ll manage it if we can help him out first…so, shall we go then? Before that monster comes back, I mean.” She made a grimace. “I…really don’t want to see the things it showed me again. I’m sure you all agree.”

Anomen certainly did. Of all the people he wanted visions of, Lord Cor was probably the last one. As they moved towards the temple’s door, he was very grateful that he would leave it behind for now. 

“Oh, and Anomen?” the half-elf said, with a smile that made Anomen’s heart give a little lurch. “That was very nicely handled of you, before. Healing the beast like that, I mean.” 

“Indeed,” Sir Keldorn said. His voice was grave, as usual, but his eyes were warm with such approval that Anomen would once have cheerfully died for, if only he could see it on his father’s face. “You acted with both wisdom and presence of mind, lad. Well done.” 

“True,” Jaheira agreed. “Healing the creature like that…I admit it had not occurred to me.” Her green eyes turned distant, and sad. “I…am glad I did not have to see more of…what it showed me.” 

“I…my lady Jaheira…I…” Anomen stammered, feeling heat rising in his cheeks. How tempting it was to claim the full honour for his deed, to get some more of that sweet, sweet approval, a dish he had only tasted so very rarely. But he could not, for he knew that doing so would turn the sweetness to dust and bitter ashes in his mouth. “My ladies…Sir Keldorn…I merely followed the guidance of Helm. His was the wisdom, and the strength.” 

“Nay, my lad,” the old paladin said, and he put his hand lightly on Anomen’s arm. “By your very words, you show me that it was also yours. I say again – well done, Squire Anomen. And unless I be sorely mistaken, you will soon be a squire no longer.” 

The joy that filled Anomen’s heart was such that he could barely breathe, and he had to content himself with a quiet bow. True, he had held hope before…but to hear one of the Order’s most respected paladins declare him worthy, why that was only one step below hearing it from the Prelate himself. It was a wonderful feeling; one he was hardly used to. Faith. Not only faith in his god – but faith in himself. _I will go where Lord Helm directs me, carry out his will as well as I can. And now I believe, I finally believe. I shall prevail._

-*-

_Meanwhile, in the home of Deril the Cowled Wizard…_

“You still hold to our agreement?” the lich asked. It sounded almost indifferent, as if it didn’t care much one way or the other. The wizard Deril, on the other hand, was almost trembling with excitement, and his voice had a feverish edge to it. 

“Of course I do, my dear Lagole,” he said. “After all, the brat is not even mine.” He smiled. “And now that his dear mother is out of the way, nobody will notice his absence.” 

“The child has no father?”

“Oh, some fellow named ‘Cernd’,” the wizard said, making a dismissive little wave with his hand. “The man ran out on poor, darling little Galia before he even learnt she was pregnant. He never knew he had a son – and now he will never learn. My agents have learnt that he is quite dead, slain some time ago near Trademeet. No, the boy is all mine, to do with as I see fit.” He poured himself some brandy from a beautiful crystal decanter and sipped it delicately. “Of course, Galia would never have accepted the…little agreement you and I have. But she, alas, is no longer with us.”

“She fell down the stairs, did she not?” the lich chuckled. 

“Yes,” Deril said. “She…fell. Eventually. A very unfortunate accident. But accidents will happen.”

“No relatives who will ask awkward questions when the child is gone?”

“None. Galia had no family left at all. The only one who came close was some interfering old busybody of a fat nanny…Fennecia was her name. I dare say she is the only one who even knows the child exists.” Deril shook his head. “But she is no blood relative, and I am, after all, not only a noble but a Cowled Wizard. She knows better than to provoke me. No, nothing is hindering me, and nobody can touch me.”

“Well then,” the lich said, and now it sounded darkly content. “Once I have taken the child’s soul to fuel and increase my magic, I will aid you with the ritual to become one of my kind. With my assistance, the risk of you suffering a fatal calamity will be almost nil. I will also pay you the spell scrolls you requested.”

Dekaras, listening outside the door, felt rather than saw Yoshimo stirring next to him. The other man had gone quite pale, and as for himself, he had to make an effort to keep breathing calmly. _So, he would steal a child’s soul. And he thinks nobody can touch him._ Simmering anger rose from within his soul, cold and poisonous. It should be cold. That way it was far more useful. Memories rose along with it, brief flashes that he suppressed as best he could. Pain. Terror. Alien fingers tearing his soul, shredding parts of it beyond repair. Screams, silent screams inside, repeated over and over again. And then the pieces of the world fell back into place, and everything was perfectly clear once more, clear and focused. He looked into the other room, at the two men, one dead, one still alive, and a small smile crossed his lips as he thought about what to do. _Yes. That is the way of it._

“When will the time be right?” Deril just asked, sounding eager enough to soil his robes. “We can do it at once if you wish. My servant will have put him to sleep by now, he should be in his room on the second floor.” 

“Not just yet,” replied the lich. “He will turn one years old next week, I believe? The day of his birth will also be the day of his death, that will serve to strengthen the ritual.” Then he rose. “I will return then. Be ready for me, Deril, and you shall have that which you seek.” He spoke a few syllables, and a flowing portal formed in the air before him. Then he stepped through it and was gone. 

Seeing that the conversation was over, and that Deril might soon stir from his study, the two rogues retreated up the stairs. “The child?” Yoshimo silently mouthed. “I would not want to leave him in this place.” 

“You go find him,” Dekaras replied. “And watch out for that servant.” He nodded in the direction of the staircase. “I will make certain we are not disturbed by the wizard.” 

The Kozakuran nodded, and then disappeared into the shadows of the upper floor, towards the region of the bedrooms. As for Dekaras, he started preparing himself. There was work to be done here, yet. 

-*-

Deril finished his brandy, which was really quite excellent. He licked his lips, unaware of the fact that he now had only five minutes left to live. Then he yawned, stretched, and got out of the armchair. It was past his usual bedtime, and he still needed to study his spellbook. After having made certain that all of the documents he had brought home from work were safely secured in his hidden safe, he left the room. “Glut!” he called out. “Glut, I am retiring now. Turn out the lights downstairs and be quick about it.” There was no reply, and that was as it should be. Glut had learnt the hard way not to speak around his master unless he was ordered to do so. 

Deril walked through the atrium, where pale moonlight from the roof window glittered in the small indoors pool. He was briefly reflected in the water’s calm surface, a handsome brown-haired man with a neatly trimmed beard, wearing an emerald green mage robe. And yet, the cruel lines around his mouth and eyes belied the charming first expression, and the eyes themselves were hard and flat. Three minutes left to live now. 

The wizard started walking up the steep stairs, remembering how his dear wife Galia had met her demise in this very same spot. She had been weak at the time, after a prolonged session in the attic, and it had all been very easy. Well, easy for him, not for her. And no magic meant that it could easily be taken for an accident. It had taken her a few minutes to expire fully, even with her face smeared with her own brains. Idly, he wondered if she had got some of them into her mouth, and how they had tasted. Two minutes left. 

Her last word had been ‘Cernd’, he recalled that much. Deril had never actually met this infamous former husband of his late wife, but he knew all he needed to. A coward, he had been named, by anybody who spoke of him. Even if he had still been alive, and for some reason decided to come for his son after all this time, he would never have dared do anything, spineless as he was. _Not to a powerful noble, and Cowled Wizard. Nobody would dare touch me._

And then, somebody did. Deril had reached the top of the stairs now, and the first thing he noticed was being suddenly grabbed by the front of his robe. Then there was pain, accompanied by a loud and very disturbing crack, and then the pain stopped completely, at least below his neck. He must have blacked out for a moment, because when he next became aware of his surroundings, he was…floating. Floating face down, but rapidly sinking deep into the dark water of the pool, unable to move or even to try to save himself. 

Deril the Cowled Wizard was able to hold his breath for exactly one minute. To him, it seemed like a very long time. 

-*-

Yoshimo found the bedrooms easily enough and started searching for the child. He hoped that his companion would not take this opportunity to get the papers they had come for and run out on him, leaving him to face the wizard. But he did not think this would happen. He might not exactly trust ‘Mordo’, but the other man had seemed as disgusted as Yoshimo himself was about hearing Deril discuss his plans for the child. He would wish to see for himself that the boy was safe, Yoshimo thought, and that meant sticking around. _There is honour among thieves as well, at least for some of us, and in some matters._ Mordo was a strange one, all right. Quite as ruthless as any ninja Yoshimo had ever encountered, but there was something else. Something more. _Not just a wandering mercenary this one, no matter what Bodhi might think. He wants something. But will he be ally or enemy? That is hard to judge._ Well, this was not the time to do so. At the moment they had to work together, and it was going well so far. And as long as the other rogue did not get in Yoshimo’s way, as long as he did not attempt to keep him from fulfilling his tasks, that might be an alliance worth preserving. The geas burned inside him, goading him on. _Yes, I know what I must do. I will keep my word, as I have sworn it. There is no other cause of action._

Ah, here was the proper room now. It was dark, for the candles were out, but he could see clearly enough. A small white bed stood next to one of the walls, and in wooden boxes on the floor lay scattered toys. A small child slept in the bed, only his wispy blond hair visible above the green quilt. Silently, Yoshimo approached the bed, hoping that he would be able to pick the child up without waking him and making him fuss. _At least this little one will keep his soul for his own._ So intent was he on this that he almost did not see the hulking shape looming out of the shadows before it was too late. It was a faint whistling noise behind him that warned him, and he dodged to the side even before his brain had consciously registered the danger. A large fist smashed into the wall, right next to where his head had been, and the baby started screaming. Yoshimo couldn’t blame him. He rather felt like screaming himself. It was a golem, an enormous stone man, with a blank, almost featureless face. A pair of emotionless eyes, glowing red with magical light, looked down upon the thief, and the fist rose again. 

-*-

Glut had been inactive for some hours, having put the Master’s child to bed and done some cleaning. But now he was activated again. He had heard the Master’s voice from downstairs, and had been on his way to carry out the Master’s orders when he had noticed the door to the bedroom standing open. As he looked inside, he saw an intruder, and the Master’s orders about what to do with intruders were very specific. His first blow had missed, yes, but there would be others, many others. And though the little man before him was fast, faster than Glut, he would get tired. Glut never got tired, not at all. “I am sorry,” he boomed out, his pleasant, polite voice echoing in the room. “The Master instructs that all intruders be killed. Please stand still, and I will make it quick.” 

The little man didn’t reply to this. Instead he kept running, now and then striking at Glut with his sword. It stung a bit, but not too bad, and Glut was confident that he would soon squash the intruder as he should be squashed. Then there was a clanging sound, and now his head hurt really bad, much like it would do when the Master got mad with Glut and punished him. The metal candlestick from the table by the bed it had been that struck him, thrown by a second intruder. The second intruder was standing by the door, and Glut turned towards him, preparing to crush and smash. But then the first man jumped onto Glut’s back, high up where it was difficult to scrape him off, and the bright and shining sword was before Glut’s eyes, coming swiftly towards them. As it rammed directly into his eyes, Glut fell heavily to the ground, and he did not get up again.

-*-

“My friend, I thank you for your timely assistance,” Yoshimo said. He shot a look at the dead golem, and his hands were trembling just a little bit. 

“It was my pleasure,” Dekaras politely replied. “The kill was yours, though. A nice and neat one, I think. I see you have found the child.” The baby, scared of the strangers though he might have been had stopped screaming, and was watching them silently, his eyes wide and curious. “Shall we take him and depart, then? I have secured the documents we need, and call me a pessimist if you like, but I suspect that leaving him to celebrate his upcoming anniversary in this particular abode would have an adverse effect upon his health.”

“What of the wizard?”

The assassin smiled, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I believe that the wizard Deril has met with a most unfortunate accident. It is strange what twists of fate can do, is it not?” 

Yoshimo raised his eyebrows, his bland tone almost exactly matching the other man’s. “Strange indeed, good Mordo. If I may be so bold as to ask…what manner of accident?”

“Oh, anybody who investigates it will see that it was a fatal fall, much like it was for his wife. Natural causes. Truly, some families are haunted by bad luck, but as the man himself said, accidents will happen.” 

Yoshimo grinned at this. “Truly. I am wondering…if perhaps this golem might have malfunctioned, attacking its master and causing his little accident as he tried to fend it off. It would explain why it is now broken beyond repair.”

“Indeed it would,” Dekaras said, pleased with this idea. It was as he had suspected, Yoshimo really was good. Of course, that meant he would have to watch him all the more carefully. 

“Of course, the golem would need to be downstairs for that.”

“That,” the assassin said, “can be arranged. Now, as for the boy…once we bring him out of here, we will need to decide what to do with him.”

“Why, we simply bring him with us, until we can find somebody more appropriate to look after him…that Fennecia woman perhaps.” 

“Not so simply. I will not bring a small child into a vampire lair, the temptation might well be too great for them, no matter what Bodhi has ordered.” 

“Well then, do you suggest that we split up? There are problems with that, as I am sure you can see.” 

Dekaras thought about this. It would mean having to trust Yoshimo alone with either the child or the documents. The first would be safe, he thought, but not the second. Letting Yoshimo report to Bodhi on his own was inconceivable, and of course the other rogue would see it the same way. “Yes,” he said. “There are quite a few problems we’ll have to deal with.” He broke off, smelling a very familiar odour coming from the baby. “And there is our first one. I believe that child has just had a little accident of his own. If you ever wanted to practice the delicate technique necessary for the changing of nappies, you will soon have a wonderful opportunity.” 

The look on Yoshimo’s face suggested that he would prefer to go another round with the golem.


	98. A Tale, Two Rogues and A Baby

**Cards Reshuffled 98 – A Tale, Two Rogues and A Baby**

_Chatting with a colleague is almost always entertaining, no matter where you encounter him. It is always nice to trade some tricks of the trade, or maybe only some really dirty or just plain weird jokes. Such as the one about the Priestess of Lolth, the paladin, and the pumpkin, or the one about how reorganization can solve any problems plaguing an organization. That one’s amazingly popular._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“All right, let’s try another one!” Zaerini said, her golden eyes glittering with amusement. “I’m going to have you stumped eventually, I swear it.” 

“I applaud your efforts, my dear Raven, but I fear they are misguided,” Haer’Dalis responded, returning her smile with one of his own. “I have whiled away many a long and dreary hour with games such as this. Still, it offers amusement as we walk, so please, continue.” 

“Fine…let’s hear you try this one.” The redhead’s lips moved silently for a moment, and when she spoke, she emphasized the syllables with little cutting gestures of her forefinger, marking the beat. “There once was a crazy old hag…” 

Haer’Dalis nodded to himself, then continued. “Who was a most terrible nag…” 

“She’d screech and she’d wail…”

“But to no avail…” 

“For any who heard her would gag!” 

“Not too shabby,” the tiefling said. “Still, I am positive we can do even better. Very well, I will begin once more.” He pursed his lips, thinking. “A lady too lacking in grace…”

“Tried riding a tiger for days…” 

Haer’Dalis raised his eyebrows. Interesting turn. But I will not give in just yet. “She used whip and spurs…”

“She used oaths and slurs…” 

“And now she is lacking a face!” Haer’Dalis triumphantly concluded. Zaerini just stared at him for a moment, and then she laughed. 

“Good one! I really thought I had you there, I admit it. Thanks, Haer’Dalis, I could use a good laugh.” 

Haer’Dalis sketched an easy bow to his fellow bard, pleased at his success. True, it was not exactly his most weighty effort at poetry, but entertainment had a value in itself, while on the road. “’Twas my pleasure,” he said. He meant it, too. The girl was pleasant enough both to look at and converse with. Under other circumstances, perhaps something more might have come from it…but he had seen the looks she shared with the amusingly transformed wizard. Doomed causes were hardly worth fighting for. He was uncertain if Edwina had quite understood that though – probably not from the poisonous looks she was sending his way. There had been more than one waspish remark too, until the redheaded half-elf had taken her aside and said something that Haer’Dalis had been unable to make out. From then on, Edwina had contented herself with glowering, but how long it would last remained to be seen. “Perhaps we might also trade some ballads and tales? It is always good to expand upon one’s repertoire.” 

“Oh, sure, why not? Mind if I ask you something first though?” Zaerini’s face turned serious, and she gave him a speculative look. “I have heard you call yourself a tiefling, and I know a little of what the word means. It means having demon blood, doesn’t it?” She spoke a little more rapidly now, flushing a little, as if she was feeling a bit embarrassed. “I know it’s not any of my business, and you can just tell me so if you want, but I wanted to ask about what it’s like.” She quickly raised her hands, warding off an unspoken accusation. “It’s not just curiosity, even if I am curious, there really is a reason why I’m asking.”

“I do not mind speaking of it,” Haer’Dalis said, “for it is a concept of which many know fully nothing, and know it, making them ignorant, and of which a few know a fraction of little, and know it not, making them fools.” He gave his fellow bard a quick smile. “Far better that at least some know enough to tell the difference between the two. Being a tiefling means having some demon blood, yes, though it does not say anything about the amount. Usually, once there no longer are any signs, hidden or visible, of the demon blood, the bloodline is considered to have thinned enough that the descendant is a regular human, halfing, or what have you.”

“And what does such a heritage carry with it?” Keldorn asked. The old paladin did not sound angry, or confrontational exactly, but wary, in a manner with which the tiefling was very familiar. _Time to bring out the old pyre and stake, perhaps? Or shall it merely be the clang of sword against sword? We will see._

“Why, we are all inherently evil of course!” he quipped, favoring the other man with his most solemn look. “Doomed by our unholy heritage to gorge ourselves upon infant blood, to rape, pillage and burn, to kick puppies and kittens, and of course…”

“To write laughably bad poetry,” Edwina said, admiring her nails. 

“To depress lesser people with our superior charm and wit, I meant to say,” Haer’Dalis returned. 

“Well,” Zaerini said, glaring at Keldorn, “I just so happen not to think that anybody is doomed to be a monster just because of who their ancestor happened to be. And if you think so…”

“It is not what I meant to imply,” Keldorn calmly replied. “But if evil is not what tieflings inherit, Haer’Dalis, then what is? I assume there is something that keeps you apart?” 

“Yes, and no,” Haer’Dalis replied. “All tieflings are different, the demon blood always manifests differently. Sometimes it might be very visible, such as horns, or perhaps a tail, or a forked tongue.” He lightly indicated his glittering blue hair, the fine strands of which were feeling awkwardly damp and dirty after the prolonged journey through the sewers. _They do not need to know about the tail just yet, I think. Or the horns._ “It might be anything. Sometimes it can be an odd talent, such an inborn ability to teleport over short distances, or to withstand strong heat. Or it might manifest in the temper. For it is true that some tieflings take a greater joy in violence than most people do.” He spread his arms. “And whether that is true in my case you must judge for yourselves, for I will not weary my tongue with speeches of defence. There are other, far better uses for it.” 

“So there are,” Zaerini agreed. “And now I will explain why I asked, to both you and to Keldorn. There is something I haven’t told you yet, you see…” 

The explanation was not what Haer’Dalis had expected, not at all. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure exactly what he had been expecting, but not this. _A daughter of Bhaal…of the Lord of Murder himself. Here we have a wondrous tale indeed, spinning itself out right before my very eyes. I must…I need to partake of it, at least for some time. I would not miss it for the world._ Haer’Dalis had half expected Keldorn to denounce Zaerini at once, but the older man’s reaction took him by surprise. 

“My lady,” he said, “you need not worry on my account. Whoever your sire may have been, you are your own person. Anomen has told me that he has devoted himself to your quest, serving faithfully in the name of Helm. I see no hint of an evil influence upon him, quite the contrary, and I can also tell that he has been granted his god’s higher blessings, which tells me that he must have kept his vows well.”

“Ha, I doubt that was any of my influence,” Zaerini said, grinning. “If Helm is happy with Ano, it’s all his own doing. But I’m glad you don’t think I’m some sort of fiend at least.”

“No, little Rini is no fiend,” Minsc chimed in, protectively placing himself between the girl and the paladin. “Boo would know, and so would Minsc. She is a witch, and witches aren’t fiends. And she’s also Minc’s friend, and Minsc wouldn’t be friends with Evil people. Except that Minsc will try to be nice and friendly with the Evil Girl Wizard, now that she is not so very Evil anymore, and Boo will help with that. His spreading hamster goodness will soon clean all the Evil away.” He held up the hamster, proudly shoving it into Edwina’s face. “See? Do you not feel nicer already?”

“What I feel is extremely aggravated!” the wizard snarled. “Get that smelly creature out of my face, unless you wish to spend the next few hours extricating him from your own hairy nostrils.” There were bright red spots in her cheeks, and she was breathing heavily, causing some very interesting effects inside her robes. _A man she might be on the inside, but the outside would make a very fine ‘Xixa The Demon Queen’._

“Boo will forgive you for now,” Minsc placidly replied. “He says that Nice cannot come all at once if you start out Evil, it has to come in tiny little hamster steps, not big ones like Minsc makes. Minsc will do his best to help.” 

Whatever Edwina said next, she said it in her own native Thayvian, which Haer’Dalis did not speak. He was reasonably certain that the words weren’t terms of endearment though. 

“Oh yes,” Minsc said once she was done. “And Boo says to remind you about rags. He says they are very important, although he will not tell Minsc why. But Boo knows many things.”

“Well,” Zaerini said, sounding a little puzzled, “whatever he means, it will have to wait a little. I think we’re almost there now.” 

‘There’, in this case, was the headquarters of the priests of the Unseeing Eye. After retrieving the first half of the rod from the lost temple with its diminished god, the adventurers had stopped by Sassan and his little group of exiles and had been given some advice on where to go next. Apparently, not all the acolytes of the Unseeing Eye were as loyal as they seemed. The exiles had an agent on the inside, a man by the name of ‘Tad’, and this Tad supposedly could get the group deeper inside the beholder’s lair, to seek the second half. Haer’Dalis counted on the trip providing him with material for at least a couple of ballads, perhaps an entire epos. Assuming he survived of course, but that was a minor matter. _I would not seek oblivion out, but should this be the time to embrace it, then so I will, and gladly. And should we die here, at least we will be beneath the earth already, making burial an easy task._ He hoped he would at least have the time to jot down some notes first though. _Saga of a Bhaalspawn perhaps…no. Hero of Baldur’s Gate…no. Shadows of Amn…no, no, no. Oh well. I am sure it will come to me in time._

The architecture of the cult’s headquarters was more than a little odd. It was dominated by a vast and very deep pit, and little huts had been built into the rock surrounding it. They were basically clinging to the edge and looked ready to fall in at any moment. Though they did not do so while the adventurers were passing, something else did. Or somebody else, actually. A trembling man stood on a board stretching out over the pit, and one of the acolytes of the Unseeing Eye stood on the other end, the safe one. Both were blind, but while the acolyte carried himself with that unnerving blind security, the other man looked terrified and confused. “You have shown yourself lacking in faith,” the priest droned on. “The Pit of the Faithless will swallow you, and may your bones be eternally gnawed by the scavengers in its unholy depths!” 

With that, he pushed the unlucky victim in. There was a terrible scream, that soon faded into silence. Haer’Dalis noticed Zaerini placing her hand on Minsc’s arm and speaking very rapidly to him, telling him that there was nothing they could do and that any open objection would only bring the entire temple down on them. It did manage to calm him, but only just barely, and Anomen and Keldorn were not in a much more serene mood. 

“Zaerini is right,” Jaheira curtly agreed. “As repulsive as this is, there is an estimate of eighty people in this place. We cannot prevail against so many.”

”Hmm…perhaps not now, annoying as it is to have to admit it,” Edwina said, thoughtfully twirling a strand of her dark hair around her finger. “But later…who knows. (After all, who would be more suited for wielding an artefact of immense power than I? With that power at my disposal, those blind sheep would soon worship me, just as I deserve.)” 

“Your personality cult will remain limited to exactly one member, yourself,” Jaheira said. Then she glanced at Zaerini. “Or possibly two. Now can we please get on with our business here?” 

“Right,” Zaerini said. She approached a young man standing a small distance away from the pit, near a winding staircase leading downwards. He didn’t seem a day older than sixteen, and his gangly body, immature attempt at a beard, and stubborn acne should have been accompanied by a pair of nervous eyes. However, they weren’t. He was blind and eyeless, just as all the other acolytes. He did match the description given by Sassar though, which was the important thing. “Hi there,” the half-elf said. “Are you Tad?”

“Um…yes?” the boy said, his voice a little shrill. “What can I do for you?”

“Well…’the eye is blind’,” Zaerini said, shrugging. “Does that mean anything to you?”

“Oh…oh my!” Tad gasped. “Yes, yes of course.” He pointed at the staircase behind him, then lowered his voice dramatically. “The…the Thing is kept down there, where the Unseeing Eye lives. There is a way…a secret way, a silent way. Past these stairs…and then…a tunnel, yes, a tunnel. Goes all the way, it does.” 

Everybody looked at the staircase. It was dark, it was narrow, and it was dripping with some kind of pinkish slime. A faint roar drifted up from the dark depths beneath. “Right,” Zaerini eventually said. “Piece of cake, in other words.” Then she jabbed Tad in the chest with her finger. “And if there turns out to be a giant spider the size of an elephant down there that you have somehow ‘forgotten’ about, I’ll come right back up and see how you like being a worshiper of the Unfeeling Groin.” 

_Meanwhile, aboveground…_

“You…will be right behind me, right?” Yoshimo said, his eyes fixed firmly on the task before him. He didn’t want to think of it, but it was getting increasingly hard to ignore it. Both the aural and the olfactory input was getting very…overwhelming. 

“Oh, certainly,” the man called Mordo said, sounding just a little bit too amused for the Kara-Turan’s liking. “Are you certain you need it, though? I seem to remember you making a comment about how ‘the’ Yoshimo can handle whatever is thrown at him, including…what was it again…oh yes. Dancing on the head of a pin, I believe it was.”

Yoshimo sighed inwardly. That comment had probably been a mistake, yes. He had meant to sound good humouredly boastful, in the manner that so often put people at ease. Unfortunately, his companion seemed intent on making him eat his own words. Though it was difficult to tell with Mordo. The older rouge had his own hidden agenda, his own reasons for working with Bodhi, that much Yoshimo was certain of. So far, he had not been successful in learning what that hidden agenda was, but he had thought that spending some time with the other man might help. _I could very much use an ally in this game I am playing. Or at least to know if he is a hidden opponent of some kind._ At least if Mordo was not fully on the side of Bodhi and Irencius, there might be a chance of the former. He had thought that showing himself as a competent thief would help him approach the other man, and he thought it had. However, he also suspected that this was another test of his abilities – one that it was equally important that he not fail. “Very well,” he said. “If you are certain.” 

“Oh, I am,” Mordo said, and now there definitely was an amused glitter in his black eyes. His lips quirked into a faintly lopsided smirk. “If you recall, I took care of the first one, and I have no intention of dealing with every single one. Besides, it is a useful skill to have. Not even the deadliest of traps will daunt you once you know it to perfection.”

Yoshimo steeled himself, trying to mentally pinch his nostrils shut. Gingerly, his fingers extended themselves, delicately probing the complex mechanism before him. _By all the oni…why do these things have to be so difficult to pry open?_ Slowly. Slowly. Trying to block out the blaring sound that was worse than any alarm he ever heard. 

“Working under pressure is good for steeling your nerves, I find,” Mordo blandly remarked. “You will welcome a nice and silent break-in after this, I believe. Far more soothing.” 

The maddening thing was that Yoshimo suspected he was right. Finally, finally, he managed to ease the thing open. He kept his face as calm as he could, but inwardly his heart was soaring with triumph as he lifted his price. And then…then it hit him. Sharply smelling fluid, splashing him directly in the eyes, searing almost as painfully as acid. “Ah!” Yoshimo cried out, and this time he did lose his composure as the shock made him take a hurried step backwards. 

“Ah, yes,” Mordo said, nodding to himself. “That is a fairly common occurrence with baby boys, I’m afraid. I have always suspected that they do it on purpose. Next time, I advise that you try shielding yourself with the clean nappy as you remove the old one.” 

“You might have warned me,” Yoshimo acidly remarked, alternating his disapproving looks between his fellow rogue and the squalling baby on the table before him. 

“What, and spoil the surprise? Shame on you, my dear colleague. Besides, it is good practice. Nothing like being properly motivated if you want to get really good at dodging.” 

Silently, Yoshimo finished his task, and while the result was not quite as elegant as he might have tried for, at least it was passable. _This whole situation reminds me of the instructors at home…taking every opportunity to drive a lesson home. And though I am not his pupil, I believe that he must have had others, or he would not do it so naturally, almost without thinking of it. He is testing me…but what for?_ Then he thought of something that Tamoko had once told him of her own lessons in the art of warfare. _If he suggests that I start catching flies with my chop-sticks, I will…_

But what would he do? He still needed to sound out Mordo, to get him on his side if possible, and alienating him would not help with that. Also, he had to concede that the older man was good. Perhaps there was something to this nappy changing thing after all. _I wonder where he learnt that? I cannot really conceive of him ever having been employed as a nurse maid._

After they had left the house of Derin the Cowled Wizard, the two rogues had decided to regroup at some safe place and try to decide what to do with the child they had rescued. The Mithrest Inn had seemed a good place to do so, and the room they had taken was a nice one. Unfortunately, it currently was also a very smelly one, courtesy of the nameless baby. Equally bad, the child seemed to be in possession of a very nasty temper, and a very strong voice. When Yoshimo had remarked upon this, his companion had looked momentarily puzzled and simply stated that he ‘had seen worse’. Yoshimo didn’t really want to think about what ‘worse’ might be like. Sighing a little, he grabbed a clean linen washcloth and the jug of fresh water standing on a small table along the wall, and then proceeded to clean himself off. “And you are quite certain this is not a small demon in human form?” he asked. 

“He seems to be lacking in the ‘horns and tails’ department,” Mordo said, and then proceeded to pick the child up and place it in the crook of his arm, after which he handed it a bright red ball that he took out of his pocket. “Do not worry,” he said at Yoshimo’s short intake of breath. “I would never give a child a functional stun ball to play with. This is a dud; I’ve had it for years. It never had any charges in it.” He nodded approvingly at the baby, who had fallen silent and was admiring the impromptu toy. “Yes, I estimated that he would like the color.” 

“That is all well and good,” Yoshimo said. “But what shall we do with him? We obviously cannot keep him, and Bodhi will be expecting us soon. It would not be wise to bring him along, and I doubt that you are any more willing to trust me to let me deliver the documents we stole to her on my own, than I would be to let you do so.” 

“Of course not,” Mordo said, raising an eyebrow. “I have far too much respect for your abilities to trust you. The boy is an orphan, it seems. But Deril mentioned this woman ‘Fennecia’ who had known his departed wife. She might be a suitable choice, so I suggest that we try to find her.” 

“Yes,” Yoshimo agreed. “I think we should do so at once.” He swallowed as the stench of the used nappies hit him again. “I…need a breath of fresh air.” 

-*-

Dekaras found that he was enjoying himself more than he would have expected. This business of having to look after the child that he and Yoshimo had rescued was inconvenient, to say the least. And yet, it was satisfying. He had constructed a backpack of sorts with a piece of cloth from a nice blanket marked ‘Mithrest Inn – Do Not Purloin!’, and so was able to carry the baby on his back and keep his hands free. Hopefully the child would not follow the example of a very young baby Edwin and throw up on him, or worse. _It is a shame_ , he thought. _We always wanted another child…but the risk was too great._ He couldn’t very well keep this one though. The current situation was far too dangerous. If they were lucky the Fennecia woman would prove trustworthy enough to look after the boy. If not…well, then he would have to think of something else. 

It was still dark out as the two rogues exited into the Promenade. At this time of night, the hawkers of wares were gone, their stands and stalls shut up for the night. Now and then guards could be seen patrolling the area, especially around the broken ruin that had once been part of a building. The traces of magic lingered there still, if not as strongly as before. _This Irenicus is a force to be reckoned with indeed_ , Dekaras thought as he passed. He took care not to stop and look, not wanting Yoshimo to wonder what he was paying attention to, but the auras still prickled on the edge of his awareness, demanding attention. _Very strong. But he will be dealt with in time, one way or another._

The documents that he and Yoshimo had stolen from Deril’s house might just help with that, if they were as important as Bodhi seemed to think. A shame that he could not follow his original plan, and take them for his own, abandoning the vampire’s dangerous company. But that was not a possibility at the moment. It would require killing Yoshimo, and he wasn’t about to try that for as long as either he or the other man carried the child. That would be far too risky. _Imoen would never forgive me if I harmed that child by accident. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t forgive myself either._ No, another solution would need to be found. 

The sound above them was faint, yet both rogues picked up on it at once, used as they were to notice little details and minute signs of danger. Chanting, coming from above, from one of the higher walkways of the promenade. The voice was almost inaudible, but the words were discernible all the less. _A spell_ , Dekaras thought, and he hoped that the baby he was carrying wouldn’t pick this particular moment to make a noise. In this city, with its rigid constraints against magic, it was likely that the spellcaster was a Cowled Wizard, and he didn’t really wish to be noticed by one of those. And then, he picked up one word in particular among the rest and felt as if his insides had suddenly turned to water. _Odesseiron._ There was no mistaking it. And that spell…yes, there it came, floating out through the air like an intricate and fragile silver spider web. Somebody was scrying for Edwin. 

“I can see him,” Yoshimo murmured, looking up towards the spellcaster. “Hm…that is odd. That is one of the Red Wizards, is it not? I wonder what one of those might be doing in Athkatla.” 

Dekaras very much feared that he already knew the answer to that question. He could see the wizard too now, since the man had moved towards the edge of the balcony on which he was standing. Red robes, looking almost black in the darkness. A bald head, complex tattoos slashing across his face. Yes, it certainly was a Red Wizard, and he had seen the man before and knew exactly how skilled he was. _Degardan. So, he has found his way here from Trademeet then, and he must know that Edwin is in the city. This could not have come at a worse time._ Something would need to be done, of course, and he was the one who had to do it. This particular moment didn’t seem well suited for it though. Even if it hadn’t been for the baby restraining his movements, the angle towards the balcony where Degardan was standing was all wrong. Not to mention that the wizard would almost certainly be prepared with who knew which nasty contingency spells. _No, not now. But I must deal with him, and as soon as possible, before he does Edwin any harm or reports on his whereabouts back to Thay._

Degardan returned inside the house from which he had come, unaware of having been spotted. Dekaras made certain to memorize which house it was. Then he turned to Yoshimo again, taking special care to sound indifferent. “Whatever his business, it has nothing to do with ours this night,” he said. “Shall we move on?” 

Yoshimo nodded. “As you wish,” he said. “In fact, I have had an idea that may help us with our little…our very little problem. There is a temple close to this place, a temple to the Crying God. Surely those priests will help if they can? They would not turn a child away.” 

Dekaras thought about that for a moment. “It is a good idea,” he agreed. “I still think we should attempt to find this Fennecia, if we can, but perhaps they might help us with that. And if we cannot find her, then the Ilmateri will make certain that no harm comes to the child.” _Not to mention that with him safely out of the way, I just might get a good opportunity to get at those documents regarding Spellhold. We shall see. The Ilmateri are well known for their mercy, but for me at this point, mercy is a luxury I can hardly afford. Yoshimo would be better off with them, I think. He should think about joining their Church rather than continuing his alliance with Bodhi. I cannot see the latter being beneficial to his health…in any way._

The temple to Ilmater was small, crammed in between a couple of shops on the lowest level of the promenade, but it was clean and there was a pleasant scent in the air. A few priests, humbly dressed in simple robes, went about their business inside. They were clearly somewhat startled at the appearance of the two rogues, but then the elder one approached, smiling pleasantly. He was perhaps in his seventies, with a short gray beard and an honest face. As he listened to their explanation he nodded, and then told them that he knew the name Fennecia, as she had come into the temple sometimes. “I believe she lives in the area,” he said, “though I cannot say exactly where. She comes here now and then though, and I am sure she will return. In the meantime, we would be glad to care for the child.” 

“We will of course reimburse you for your trouble,” Dekaras told him. “We would not expect you to care for him without compensation.”

“No?” the priest said. “And yet I understand that you both were willing to do just that. Why expect less of me than of yourself, son?”

“I find it safest to expect as little as possible of other people,” the assassin coldly replied. “It is a policy that has always served me well and has enabled me to avoid quite a few disappointments. And I am not your son.” _Fortunately for you._ “I may return to check on the child – I trust you will take good care of him.” 

“Of course we will, son,” the old priest replied. “Of course we will.” 

“I…believe I would like to remain here for a little while,” Yoshimo said. “There are…matters that I would like to discuss with a priest. Important matters.” Dekaras said nothing, but he studied the other man carefully. Yoshimo looked nervous. Almost…guilty? He did not know what it might mean, but for one thing. It meant an opportunity. Yoshimo was carrying half of the documents they had stolen, and he carried the other half. Yet that might change soon. 

“Certainly,” he said to Yoshimo, his mind already working with several different plans of action. “Take care of your business. I will be waiting for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Dekkie has definitely 'seen worse'. :)


	99. Unseeing Eye

**Cards Reshuffled 99 – Unseeing Eye**

_In the midst of dealing with terrible monsters, and finding incredibly rare and valuable artifacts, it is sometimes easy to forget about those mundane little details of daily life. And still they keep intruding on us, in one way or another._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“This is the home of the Unseeing Eye, is it?” Zaerini said, looking about. “Cozy little place. I especially like the slime dripping off these bright orange walls that are pulsating like they’re made up of a web of living entrails. Oh, and these…these pink…throbbing…things on the warm, soft, squishy and not to mention smelly floor. Anybody got any idea what they are?” She loosened the red scarf around her neck, the one that Sassar the ex-priest had given her earlier. It was far warmer here than it had been in any of the tunnels they had passed previously.

“They resemble some sort of valves,” Edwina said, poking one of the objects in question with her staff. The structure on the floor opened up its fleshy petals and tried to suck the staff into its center, and she had to yank hard to get it loose. “Though they may be simply storage areas, or perhaps doorways. (Living architecture…an interesting idea. While I do not care for the décor, a properly subservient bed would be very useful. One that could adjust its temperature…and…and vibrate. The possibilities seem very promising.)” On her shoulder, Insufferable grinned widely, and then the monkey made some gestures that no cute and fuzzy little animal should really know. 

“Well,” Jaheira said, looking about her. “At least there do not seem to be any undead in here. That is something.”

Rini nodded. After descending into the so-called ‘Pit of the Faithless’, the adventurers had first passed through what was essentially a short series of tunnels functioning as a refuse heap. Situated deep below the temple to the Unseeing Eye these tunnels received the corpses of the unlucky worshippers who had been deemed unfaithful, as they were tossed into the pit. There had been quite a few of those corpses lying about, but not nearly as many as you might have expected. The reason for that became very clear as the group came across an entire settlement of undead. Mainly ghouls, and that fully explained why the bodies had been gnawed clean of pretty much all flesh. The undead had actually formed a community of their own, with a mayor and everything. Unfortunately, the presence of several live mortals was enough to drive them into a frenzied rage. Edwina and Rini had used up what fire spells they had, and Anomen had turned away quite a few undead, but the battle had still been a nasty one, and it was good to get into the proper beholder caves at last. 

_Of course, ‘good’ is a pretty relative term here._

“You know,” Jan said as he pressed his finger into one of the pulsating, corded walls, creating a nasty, squelching sound. “This sort of reminds me of my poor Great-Aunt Gina Jansen, Gond rest her soul.” 

“How is it even remotely possible,” Anomen said, “that this…this repulsive pit of utter corruption reminds you of anything, much less your Great Aunt?” 

“Well,” the gnome said, his eyes twinkling, “Auntie Gina had these really nasty varicose veins on her lower legs, you see. Very unsightly.”

“Yes,” Jaheira cut in, “I think we can all see where this is going, thank you.” 

“Boy,” Jan went on, “they were so many and so dense that you could use them for a road map, and Auntie Gina often did, since she was very old and easily got lost and confused. She’d just pull her skirts up a bit, take a good long look at her legs, and then trot off home.”

“And if you could follow her example, we would all be much happier for it,” Edwina said. She was scowling, and there was a taut edge to her voice. 

“In fact,” Jan said, “she grew to depend a bit too heavily on her legs, using her magic skills to enhance them at the expense of all her other body parts. First her arms withered away to little stumps, and then her head shrunk to the size of a tiny marble.”

“Now that I can easily imagine. The family resemblance is quite remarkable, really. (Perhaps it could be improved on even further. I seem to remember about the people of Maztica shrinking the heads of their foes down to raisin size. The experimental procedure would be entertaining in itself.)”

“And eventually, all that was left of Auntie Gina was a giant foot, hopping about. It made her very efficient in battle though, she could stomp anything to death, even a dragon. And she’d do it too, whenever anybody annoyed her, which most people did.”

“Yes!” Minsc exclaimed. “Isn’t this what Minsc has always said, that the might Feet of Justice will always kick in the Snotty Nose of Evil?”

“Too right, Minscey!” Jan said. “So you have. Unfortunately, it only worked out for so long.” 

“What exactly happened?” Jaheira asked with a long-suffering sigh. “Please make this painful process as brief as possible.”

“Poor Auntie Gina succumbed to a nasty case of blisters. She got a very nice burial though, inside a giant purple boot that had once belonged to none other than Torm himself. Say Keldy, do you think he wears those high heels in order to make himself look taller?” 

“That will be enough!” Keldorn said, and he sounded very grim indeed. “The…the footwear of my god is none of your concern.” 

“’Course not, Keldy. It’s Auntie Gina’s concern really, she’s the one who got the boot. And they say her spirit isn’t entirely gone from this world yet…that at any moment, at any time, whenever somebody is being annoying, Auntie Gina’s Giant Foot may descend from the sky, stomping him flat.”

As one, the rest of the adventurers craned their necks backwards, looking at the ceiling. There were a few seconds of anticipatory silence. “Amazing,” Edwina eventually said. “For a few seconds there I actually found myself fervently wishing for one of his longwinded yarns to be solidly anchored in facts.” 

“A pity,” Jaheira agreed. “Though at the moment I believe we should concern ourselves more with giant eyes than with giant feet. Such as the ones over there.” She pointed down the hallway, and now Rini could see something that hadn’t been there before. Shapes. Round, floating shapes. Round floating shapes with staring eyes on top of writhing tentacles. It was beholders, and more than a few of them. 

Zaerini knew better than to get into close combat with the monsters facing her. Instead she hung back, firing as many enchanted arrows as she could into the thick hides of the creatures, aiming for the eyes whenever possible. Jan followed her example, his crossbow clicking and rattling again and again, reloading itself so rapidly that the motion became a blur. Edwina had conjured up a handful of little glowing stones, and wherever one of them struck a beholder, fire erupted. Meanwhile, Keldorn, Anomen, Minsc and Jaheira advanced, but their task was hard. The beholders eyes flashed and glittered on top of the writhing tentacles, and wherever those malicious eyes turned, calamity struck. Rini watched with horror as Anomen’s face twisted into a furious sneer, and he swung the Flail of Ages towards Keldorn, driven by the mind-bending power of the beholders. The old paladin was in very real danger of having his thorax smashed flat, even despite his armor, and only Jaheira’s swift intervention saved him. The druid pushed Keldorn hard, shoving him out of harm’s way, and brought her staff up in a swift movement, attempting to parry the flail. It succeeded, but at a heavy price. The flail wound itself about the staff, breaking it in two, and Jaheira was forced to throw herself to the ground, rolling away from the next blow. 

“Anomen!” Keldorn shouted. “Desist at once, in the name of the Order!” A brief flash of white light erupted from his raised palm, striking Anomen in the forehead, and the cleric staggered. His face was white and sweaty; his eyes open wide with horror. 

“L-lady Jaheira!” he stammered. “Are you…are you all right? Did I harm you?”

“Of course not, you fool!” Jaheira retorted. “I am perfectly fine. Now get moving, before you hurt yourself!” With that, she tossed aside the broken pieces of her staff, and her body shimmered and melted, reshaping itself until a large brown bear stood in her place. Jaheira roared, baring dripping fangs, and then she charged. 

_Yep_ , Zaerini thought, _I think she’s pretty much all right._ That was more than could be said for herself, however. One of the beholders fixed its attention upon her, and she found herself frozen, unable to move a single muscle as the monster bore down on her. She could not turn around to see, but she could hear Edwina cursing loudly, and knew that the wizard must have been attacked as well. _Behind us. They’re coming out of the tunnels behind us!_

Then Haer’Dalis was suddenly in front of her, and his blades were spinning, whirling as swiftly as a tornado. The beholder grunted as red slashes appeared across its bloated body, and tried to press on, but the tiefling was holding it at bay, preventing it from getting closer. Haer’Dalis was humming to himself, a dissonant little tune that was oddly stirring, but also somehow disturbing. As she heard it, Zaerini could almost see…something. _A city. A city with tall dark buildings, and portals…so many portals, locked and unlocked. And in the city…a Lady. She knew it somehow, without knowing how she knew. A Lady with many blades, ruling silently over all. I would like to see that, some day._

“Whooo hooooo! Look at the blubber fly!” It was Lilarcor’s gleeful exclamation that tore the bard away from her immersion in the song, and as she felt herself released from the spell that had been holding her, she was very much relieved to see Minsc. The berserker was currently trying to tug his sword free from the fat corpse of the beholder, as task made more difficult by the fact that Lilarcor didn’t want to be moved at all. _Some other day. Right now, I’m lucky to be alive._

The tunnel led deeper into the beholder caves, and the farther the adventurers walked, the more nauseating the stench became. Before it had been something akin to rotting milk and meat mixed together, but now…now there was something else. Something worse. Something that reminded Zaerini of decomposing corpses, lying in a gutter with clouds of flies crawling on them and fat white maggots bursting out of their eyes and mouths. She had never smelled anything like it, but she knew what it had to be. _The Unseeing Eye. He is close, I know it._ And now, after that last battle which had almost entirely depleted Anomen’s and Jaheira’s healing spells, she was beginning to seriously wonder if they could beat the Unseeing Eye at all. _But we have to. There is a way, I know it. If only I could figure it out…what did the Reading show me?_ The Chariot, like a bulbous eye driven by a ghostly figure. _I still don’t get it. But if I don’t…no. Don’t want to think about that. I have to figure it all out._

After a little while, the tunnel widened, and opened up into a round chamber, and here the stench was even stronger. Rini knew that if she had been able to see it as well as smell it, it would have been smeared all over the walls, like smudged handprints. _The Unseeing Eye comes here often, for some reason. I wonder what…_

“Look!” Edwina said, pointing ahead. “Do you see it? (Finally, the time has come to turn that old beholder into Monster Mush!)” What the wizard was pointing at was a pedestal of sorts, that had grown out of the floor rather than been erected on top of it. On the pedestal lay a dark oblong object, a rod. Even at some distance, Rini was able to tell that it would match the one they already had retrieved exactly. “Yessssss…” Edwina said, and she was actually licking her lips as she eyed the device greedily. “At last it is mine…all mine!” 

“Ahem?”

“Er…ah…ours, of course, Hellkitten. Ours. (But none of the others had better try to get their grubby paws on it!)” The wizard bent over the platform, murmuring to herself. “Hm…warding spells…and intricate ones at that. No matter, I will have them off in due time, and then…then…” 

Exactly what Edwina had planned would happen then was never determined. She was interrupted by a wet and slithering sound, and then a large shadow loomed from the doorway to the room. The creature that entered was twice the size of the beholders previously encountered, and its mottled gray hide was scabbed and filthy, making it very clear from where the hideous stench had been coming. On top of the writing tentacles, the beholder’s eyes bobbed up and down, every single one of them covered with a milky white film. This monster was blind, and likely had been so for a long time. 

Zaerini watched the beholder, feeling herself transfixed by its blind gaze, even as cold shivers of terror ran down her back. She knew she ought to fight, to run, to do something, but she could think of nothing. She was literally backed into a corner here – and the Unseeing Eye had come at last. 

-*-

“Hold him off!” Edwina shouted. “You must hold him off until I can assemble the rod!” The wizard hunched down over the platform on which the second half of the rod lay, and she feverishly wished that she had dared simply snatch it. But she didn’t doubt for a second that such an action would cost her an arm, if she was lucky. The wards set in place around the artifact were very nasty, and very intricate, and she knew that it would take her at least a few minutes to remove them. Possibly more, considering the tension. _Not that I fear that bloated engorged eyeball in the slightest. Ha, I would like to pin him on a toothpick like an olive and use him for a drink decoration! Not that I would actually wish to drink it…but I am not scared!_

_Boss?_ The voice of Insufferable sounded very small and remote, and Edwina could feel the monkey inside one of the pockets of her robe, curled up into a tiny ball. _I am. Could you please try not to get us killed here?_

Edwina was just about to reply, but at that point she had to dodge a stream of fiery energy shooting out of one of the dead and milky eyes of the Unseeing Eye. _Accursed creature! How does it do that, isn’t it supposed to be blind?_

_Boss, please!_

_Yes, yes. I would not want my familiar to suffer a nervous breakdown, after all. Not everybody can be expected to possess my resilient mental faculties._

Edwina focused on the wards again, trying to block out the sounds of fighting. Her hair fell forward like a dark curtain, hiding the sight, but the sounds…shouts and curses, hideous grunts that had to come from the giant beholder, the sounds of blows being exchanged...she didn’t want to think about them too much. She had realized now, realized exactly what it was that they were facing. A Death Tyrant, an undead beholder, far more powerful than it was in life. And she knew, knew that this foe might well prove too much. If she could not retrieve the rod soon, she would need to add her magic to the attack, but she feared that it would not be enough. She had already seen both Zaerini and Haer’Dalis attempt it, and with little effect. _No…it cannot end like this! It will not!_

The wards were an intricate spider web before her, both complex and daunting. But she knew…she knew that if she could only find that one thread, the one loose one, then she could unravel it all. _Time. I need time!_

Angrily, she pushed her hair back across her shoulder, to keep it out of her face. This made her task somewhat easier, but unfortunately, she could now catch glimpses of the ongoing battle. Vague impressions of armored bodies moving about, of swords and flails attempting to make dents in the swollen and rotting body of the Unseeing Eye. They didn’t matter. Only one person did. _Where is she? Curse it, where is she? Where is she, where is she, where is…_

Ah. There. Zaerini had drawn her sword and was doing her best to ram it into the Unseeing Eye, while simultaneously attempting not to be blasted into oblivion by one of the Death Tyrant’s attacks. Blind the creature might be, but Edwina had already noticed that it still had access to at least its paralyzing attack, as well as a nasty lightning bolt and what seemed to be a slowing spell. _And there will be more. Much more._ Most of the eyes hung limp and lifeless on their tentacles, but the central, large one seemed to be able to use all their powers in turn. Zaerini was dodging and weaving, moving swiftly and gracefully as her more heavily armed and armored companions could not. Under other circumstances Edwina would have found it a captivating sight. Right now, she found it horrifying. _What is she doing? She shouldn’t…she mustn’t do that! She should leave close combat to those armor-plated lumbering troglodytes she insists on surrounding us with, what other point is there to keeping them around? AAAAAAGGGGHHH! No! Dodge! DODGE!_

Zaerini narrowly managed to avoid the fangs of the Unseeing Eye as the monster swiftly lurched forward, attempting to take a big chunk out of her thigh. It only managed to graze her, causing a slow trickle of dark blood and Edwina’s heart practically leapt into her mouth. Then anger started swelling inside her, red and blistering, and her mouth twisted into a snarl. _I will pay that ocular obscenity back for that if it’s the last thing I ever do. Nobody bites her but me! Not that I would bite her as such…just a little delicate nibble for mutual pleasure._

For a few moments, the memory of the scent and taste of her lover’s skin overwhelmed the wizard, making her eyes glaze over a little, and the corners of her mouth turn upwards in a silly grin. Then she forced her mind back to business. She thought she could see the way the wards had been constructed now, or at least she was beginning to do so. Yes, there were definite patterns to be seen, and as she cast the incantation to dispel the magical traps and obstacles, she carefully let the patterns unravel, little by little. _Precision…there must be precision…_ She knew she mustn’t rush, despite the desperate urgency of the situation, but it was hard not to do so, very hard indeed. She dared another anxious little glance at her Hellkitten, dreading what she might see. Zaerini had taken off that rather ugly red scarf of hers, and now she was snapping it in the beholder’s face like a whip, annoying the creature and confusing it at the same time. 

The Unseeing Eye was distracted, but far from defeated. Lightning leapt from the pale and filmy central eye, great blue-white arcs of it, and both Keldorn and Jan went down. Little sparks leapt off Keldorn’s orange-pink armor, but the paladin himself was still, and for once Jan was actually silent. Under the circumstances though, Edwina could derive no pleasure from that fact. 

Finally, finally the wards gave way. Her fingers trembling with nervous excitement, Edwina reached for the rod on top of the pedestal. It felt a little slick, almost oily, but she could sense its power, even stronger now that the wards were no longer containing it. “The other half!” she shouted. “Quickly!” 

Zaerini didn’t reply. She was still hard pressed by the Unseeing Eye, as were the others. The monster had suffered some damage, but it was still very much in good health and eager for blood. Jaheira, still weaponless, was doing her best to heal the downed Jan and Keldorn, but the beholder kept attacking her every time she got close and would not let her concentrate properly. Minsc and Anomen, flanked by Haer’Dalis, tried to keep the Unseeing Eye away from their wounded companions but it was not an easy task. As for the half-elf bard, she was still snapping her scarf in the beholder’s face with one hand, and wielding her sword with the other, stabbing at the monster. It wasn’t as if she did much harm to it, but she definitely was pestering it enough that it couldn’t quite finish off what it had started. Now she took a step backwards and hauled out the first half of the Rift Device, the one that they had found inside the temple. At once, the Unseeing Eye hissed loudly, and blind as it was, it seemed that it was still looking directly at the artifact. Edwina could hear a low voice, one that seemed to grate on the very edge of her hearing. 

“Miiiiiiine…give it to me!” 

“Forget it, bug eyes!” Zaerini spat. “’Dwina…catch!” The rod whirled through the air, directly into Edwina’s waiting arms. In her excitement, she very nearly dropped it, but she managed to catch it just in time. _Now to assemble it…how difficult can this be? Oh, there are runes right here along the edge…what do they say… ‘Rift Device Ricky. Insert ‘Plug A’ into ‘Slot B’, see diagram. Then fold ‘Splort C into ‘Extension D’. What in the name of the Abyss is a ‘Splort’? And what kind of diagram is this, I could draw better at the age of six! I can’t even make out which part is which! What else…’Please coexist peacefully and evaluate Cord F across the lighting fixture, make certain all hinges are wrapped up.’ What hinges? Aaaaarrrghhh! Why couldn’t the apes who constructed this thing have made it so that it would reassemble itself automatically?_

_Well, Boss_ , Insufferable said, _wasn’t that because they wanted to make sure that it would be really difficult to put it back together again?_

_Yes, but this is ridiculous! I don’t even think all the parts they refer to exist! And these runes seem to have been translated into first one language, then a second one, and then back again. They’re almost incomprehensible!_

“Edwina!” Zaerini shouted, and now she sounded more than a little impatient. This could possibly have something to do with the fact that she had only just barely avoided having her face zapped with a lightning bolt. “What are you doing with that thing? It’s not a toy, you know, so stop playing around with it!” 

“I am working on it!” Edwina snapped. “This happens to be very complicated, and very sensitive. Don’t interrupt me, I am concentrating.” _Batteries not included…what does that mean?_

“Well, can’t you try to concentrate a little faster?”

“Ow!” Edwina said as the two pieces of the rod pinched her finger. “That does it! Stupid, malfunctioning, badly constructed piece of junk! I’ll show you ‘Plug A’!” With that, she rammed the two halves of the rod together as violently as she could, jamming the slightly pointed end of one into the hollowed-out end of the other. Miraculously it worked. True, there were odd purple sparks leaping off the assembled device, that looked a bit worrying, but at least it was in one piece. Well, as long as she kept pushing the two pieces together, that was. “I have it!” Edwina shouted. “Will every single one of you massively slothful simians move your unsightly bloated posteriors out of the way, or do you want me to blast you out of existence along with our rotund antagonist here?” The rod started humming between her fingers, vibrating more and more quickly. All of her passion seemed to go into it, all the darker emotions. Fear. Anger. Hatred. They were growing inside her, swelling like a vast red rose opening its petals deep inside her belly, filling her with horrible, deadly power. She knew that if she released it, released all of it, the Unseeing Eye would be very seriously hurt indeed. 

And yet she could not. The others were still in the way, and she might easily hit one of them instead of her proper target. The anger kept growing, swelling. Memories bubbled up inside of her, memories of every single time in her life she had ever felt slighted, insulted, or put upon, and now it wasn’t simply anger but full-blown rage. She was trembling with the strength of it, her cheeks were blazing, and it felt as if every hair on her body was standing on edge. “EVERYBODY OUT OF THE WAY NOW!” she screamed. “I SAID MOVE IT!” 

Zaerini gave her a startled look, and there was something unsettling about it as well. Something like…recognition? Then her jaw set in a firm way that Edwina recognized all too well, and dreaded. It was the one that meant that her lover was about to pull some ridiculous, death defying stunt, totally out of proportion and devoid of common sense. The redhead hastily sheathed her sword, grasping her scarf with both hands as she sidled behind the Unseeing Eye. Then she leapt into the air, swinging the scarf, and then she pulled. 

Edwina tried to keep from gaping at the sight that met her. Zaerini was balancing on the Unseeing Eye, half crouching, half standing, and the scarf was caught in the monster’s mouth…much like a set of reins. The beholder was trying to chew through it, and would certainly succeed soon, but not just yet, and as the bard yanked hard on the scarf the Unseeing Eye reflexively twitched aside as a steed drawing a warrior’s chariot, guided by her touch. It moved apart from the warriors battling it, finally giving Edwina a clear shot. 

The rage had built up to the point where it felt that she was about to explode if she couldn’t let it out. She channeled it into the Rift Device, every single atom of it, and the artifact drank it all in greedily, absorbing far greater amounts of raw anger than it had ever been constructed for. But now it wasn’t humming any longer, it was screeching, and there was a veritable rain of sparks coming from it, not purple anymore but red. “DIE!” Edwina screamed, too furious now to think of any insult more complex than that. This monster, this thing, was threatening her precious lover. “DIE! DIE, DIE, DIE!” 

A thick beam of red light shot out of the Rift Device, and the Unseeing Eye had just enough time to give a startled grunt. Then it was struck and dropped heavily to the ground with the sound of a lump of wet clay smacking against a rock floor. Edwina stood perfectly still for a few seconds, feeling as if she had just had her insides sucked out through her navel along with the rage that had left her. Then she became aware that they were still very much present, as terrible pain exploded inside of her. “Nngh…” she groaned, and then her knees buckled beneath her and she fell, cradling in upon the awful, awful agony that was surely worse than any torment any living creature could survive. _So, this is what it is like to die…_

When Edwina came to, the first thing she saw was a pair of anxious golden eyes looking into hers, framed by the very face she had been hoping to see. “I did die,” she whispered. “And now a beautiful deva has come to fetch me up to Mount Celestia. Will you feed me grapes and fan me with large plumes, wearing nothing but a golden bathing suit?” 

“You’re not dead, love,” Zaerini said, smiling encouragingly. “Though I’m sure it feels like it. I’d be happy to feed you grapes though, as soon as we get out of here. You sure deserve them.” Lips, lovely soft lips brushing against hers, and they almost made her forget the still present pain. 

“Then why…” 

“Edwina, how much have you been taught about comparative human anatomy?” _Damn._ Jaheira’s voice, intruding on the lovely vision above her. 

“I know all there is to…ow…know about that!” 

“And are you also aware that you have been female for some time now, and that there are certain things that females need to deal with on a regular basis? Very regular?” 

Edwina felt her eyes widening with horror as the terrible realization dawned on her. “No…nooooo! It can’t be! That’s…that’s impossible!” 

“You know it to be true,” Jaheira bluntly told her. “You can feel it, even though you would not recognize it for what it was. And I examined you after you fainted, there is no doubt whatsoever.” 

“Sorry…” Zaerini said. “I’m afraid she’s right. It’ll pass, don’t worry. And I’ll spoil you dreadfully in the meantime, I promise. And show you how to deal with…things. We’ll just have to make sure we find some rags or something.” She held up the Rift Device, which had been turned into a charred and smoking black ruin. “Oh…and I think we’d better make sure you’re turned back to normal in less than a month. No telling what might get broken otherwise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as I deeply sympathize with Edwin's Nether Scroll plight, I must admit I had a certain amount of fun doing this to him!


	100. Loyalties

**Cards Reshuffled 100 – Loyalties**

_I would say that it is best to have strong loyalties to only a small group of people. Loyalties can give you strength but can also easily be used against you. In general, try not to be too obvious about them. At least not around manipulative arch wizards or witches._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_. 

“My friend, I would ask you to listen to me a moment,” Yoshimo called out as he stepped out of the Temple of Ilmater. “You may think that action serves you better than parlay at this time, but it is not so. Will you hear me out?” The Kozakuran was projecting his normal air of genial camaraderie, but he could feel a few drops of sweat trickling down his back. He was taking a very great risk here on more than one level, and he knew it. Yet he thought this was the better path to take. _If I die now, at least I die as a man, my life taken by a worthy opponent. Not as a dog choking to death on poisoned meat it mistook for a treat._ All the same, walking out this door, knowing what waited had been one of the worst moments of his life so far.

Mordo was leaning calmly against a wall, not too far from the temple exit, his arms crossed across his chest. He looked for all the world as if he had been doing nothing more than idling the time away while he waited. He even managed to look faintly bored. For a while Yoshimo actually doubted what he already knew, the act was that good. _No. I know better. But he is very good. He must have known that had he been absent as I came out, I would suspect something at once and retreat, perhaps too soon for him to strike. So, he chooses to wait openly, innocently. Would I have looked through it on my own? Perhaps. But not for certain._ “It will take only a short amount of your time,” Yoshimo spoke again, willing the other man to answer him. _If he answers me, it means he is at least considering it._

“Of what do you speak?” Mordo asked in that smooth, non-accented voice of his. His hands were still hidden from sight, that was not a good sign. Yet he had opted to speak rather than to strike at once. That was good. He was still maintaining that almost disinterested air, and black eyes stared dispassionately into Yoshimo’s, calm and cool. That was not so good. 

“It would not be in your best interest to do what you are thinking of doing,” Yoshimo said, making certain his own empty hands were clearly visible. He did not want to appear in any way aggressive right now. “You think my death would serve you, and it might, but my life will be more to your advantage by far.” 

No reply. That was not good. On the other hand, the older rogue was still watching him, and had made no move, which was better. 

“I’m sure I have no idea what you are talking about,” Mordo said, shrugging a little. The gesture looked very natural too. “But by all means, go on. It helps relieve the tedium.” 

Yoshimo moved closer, walking slowly and making no sudden movements. He couldn’t know for certain if the other man had any weapon near at hand, but he suspected it might well be the case. _And also, the ninja of home can kill with their bare hands. I would not be surprised if this one knows this skill and knows it well._ “I serve Bodhi,” he said, speaking quietly. This was something he wanted no casual ears to overhear. “But I do not serve willingly, not any longer.”

“Is that so,” Mordo said, and he raised an eyebrow. “And why would you be telling me this? Do you not fear that I will go straight to her and tell her what I know?”

“No. She already knows.” Yoshimo felt a bitter taste in his mouth, as always when he remembered his own folly. “She takes joy in my situation.” Now, how to go on? He had to say enough to pique the other man’s curiosity, but not so much that it would mean anything to anybody who chanced to overhear. “I…cannot simply leave. She and her brother have made certain of that.” Now the bitterness was overflowing, filling his heart like a cold and poisoned river. “I am bound. Yes, I, Yoshimo am bound, though you will see no shackles on me. Magic can do…many things.”

Mordo didn’t reply at once. He stood as silent and immobile as a statue, and yet something had changed about him. Something indefinable had crept into his stance, a tension of some kind. For a few seconds, Yoshimo was reminded of some large animal, crouched and ready to pounce. “I see,” the other man eventually said, speaking as mildly as before. “Yes. I understand what that must be like. And yet, I must repeat my question. Why are you telling me this? If you wish my cooperation in any way, you will inform me of your reasons now. If not, we can always terminate the conversation at this point.” 

_No. Oh no, that would not do at all._ “I will speak of whatever I can,” Yoshimo said. “This is not the best place for it though. Someplace more private perhaps? With less chance of unwanted ears listening in to our conversation, yes? For now, I will speak briefly. You are the first potential ally to come my way since after I…realized the extent of my situation. What others I have met have not been skilled enough, or else I have not been able to speak freely with them. But you…you are different.” He was speaking more rapidly, hoping to keep the older rogue’s interest. Not doing so could prove very unpleasant. “I do not know where your loyalties lie exactly, but I know it is not with Bodhi. So, I believe the two of us can help each other.” He hoped he wasn’t sounding too desperate. _I may be desperate, desperate enough to trust him, but that is a different thing._ “Will you let me explain this to you more fully, in a more private place?”

Mordo nodded. “Very well,” he said. “You will be given the opportunity to explain exactly what it is that you have in mind.” Still his voice was as calm as if he had been sitting at a tea ceremony in the Imperial Palace, but there was a cold glitter in his eyes. “I hope you will not be wasting my time.”

Yoshimo decided that he was hoping for the same. 

-*-

A Geas. Dekaras mulled the word over, considering what he had just been told. It was only the bare bones so far, that much he was certain of. Yoshimo was accomplished at deception, but in this case, it was clear that he was leaving details out. _He must have been desperate though, in order to accept it. Certain death if he does not carry out whatever mission this torture-loving wizard has given him._ Edwin of course had done something very similar, a fact that was still worrying the assassin to no end. _I wish I could be at his side now, rather than letting him wander about on his own. There is no telling what he might get up to._ Well, Edwin had accepted a Geas in order to save a loved one, and that was a strong reason. Might Yoshimo have had a similar one? “Why?” Dekaras asked, and the younger man picked up on his meaning at once. They had once again returned to the Mithrest, and to the room they had used before. Yoshimo was sitting on the floor, leaning his back against the wall in a weary fashion. Even telling as little as he had of his story had drained him, it seemed. His skin was paler than normal, his eyes bloodshot and his fingers were actually trembling as they rested against his knees. _The Geas_ , the assassin thought, and he felt a cold chill along his back as he realized the full implications of the magic binding Yoshimo. _If he does not fulfill it, he will die, but it is worse. It seems he cannot even speak too much of it, so deeply enslaved is he._ It was a revolting thought, and one he didn’t like to dwell on. 

“It was for my sister,” Yoshimo simply said. “She…died, some time ago. No, not simply died, she was killed. I wanted vengeance, and the wizard swore that if I did as he asked me, I would be able to get it. He said we shared a common interest.” He shook his head. “And I agreed, fool that I was. It did not sound so bad, this Geas. Only a form of magical contract, a way to ensure I would not betray him. And I believed him.” 

“You wanted to believe him,” Dekaras said. 

“Yes. Yes, I did. I wanted vengeance, I hungered for it and he seemed to provide an easy means of getting it. So, I allowed him to put his spell on me. Had I known what that meant, I would sooner have let him kill me.” Yoshimo paused. He had closed his eyes, and his voice was a dreary monotone. “I am his slave. If I abandon my task, if I refuse to serve, then the magic will kill me. It will be a painful and slow death, but there is worse. If I do not do his bidding, then after my death my soul will also be in agony, for all eternity.”

Dekaras contemplated this. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, not at all. _Perhaps we might even be sharing a cell in some pit in the Nine Hells, at some future date._ He supposed he might be able to avoid such a fate if he had chosen to show devotion to some god more commonly thought suitable for one in his profession. Masque, perhaps. However, he had chosen differently, giving his respects to one he actually felt respect for. Not that he had any illusions about the deity in question favoring him because of it. That made no difference, however. Selling his services was one thing, but selling his genuine loyalty was quite another, and it would be very improper to expect special favors in return for following his conscience. 

“So,” Dekaras said, watching Yoshimo carefully for any signs of deceit. “You chose to serve in order to save yourself, but now you seem to have changed your mind about it being worth it. Why is that?”

“There were two reasons,” Yoshimo said. He gave a wry little smile. “The first is that I found it strangely easy to like my sister’s killer. The second is that this led me to ask some questions of Bodhi, and she told me the truth. The one who killed my sister had not done it out of spite, as the wizard had led me to believe. Rather it had been an honorable death, one that my sister sought herself at the time.”

“Bodhi actually told you this?”

“Yes. She is very powerful, but as you have probably already deduced, she is not equally bright. Cunning, yes, but she is not so good with strategy. It is he…the brother…who lays their plans, and she helps carry them out. She is very ruled by her passions, you see. In this case she wanted me to suffer, to torment with me with the knowledge of how I had been deceived, how I would be coerced into bringing about the downfall of one that did not deserve such a fate. And I did suffer, but she still made a bad mistake.”

“Oh yes,” Dekaras said. “She should have told you after the deed was done, not before.” 

“Yes. Yes, exactly. Now, you see, I no longer have any reason to desire to aid these two fiends with their plans. The magic binds me still, but…” A muscle in the Kozakuran’s cheek twitched spasmodically with sudden pain and he paled a little further. “You see…” he breathed when he managed to catch his breath again. “I must not think too hard about it, or the spell punishes me. But I can think about it, and even speak of it, if I am very careful.” 

_So, he truly wants to betray his cruel Master and Mistress_ , Dekaras thought. _Very understandable. Bodhi made a bad mistake indeed in telling him the truth. Now he feels humiliated by the deceit and wishes for vengeance upon those who deceived him rather than on the one they wanted him to go after. And though he fears his fate, he has pride enough to fight it._ “You think that I may assist you somehow,” he said. It wasn’t a question. 

“I know so.” Yoshimo spread his hands in a small gesture. “Did you not wonder how I was able to guess your purpose in the Promenade just now? It was not my own reasoning that made me aware of your intentions.” There came the small smile again, weary and almost faded. “You see, my friend, I lingered behind to pray a while. I had decided to at least make an attempt to save my soul after my death, and Ilmater is known for his mercy. It was a fool’s hope perhaps, but it was all I could think of. Death, and his mercy after death. And then…something came to me as I prayed. Knowledge. I knew what you intended, and I knew that if I could talk you out of it, you might help me. We might help each other.”

_So…it comes to this. Can I trust him, I wonder? His pain seems genuine enough, I know that when I see it. And his reasons for wanting to abandon Bodhi are plausible. Also, he risked his life in order to have this conversation with me._ “I do not say I agree to anything just yet,” Dekaras said. “But please, do go on. Tell me what it is you have in mind.” 

Was it a very faint sigh of relief that escaped Yoshimo? It was almost invisible, almost inaudible, but to a rogue’s highly trained eyes and ears it was still noticeable. “I cannot oppose her directly, nor him. But what I can do, I will. Due to my enslavement, she trusts me in ways she does not you, and she talks more freely than with you. I will give you any information I can, I swear it on whatever honor I still retain.”

“And in return?”

“In return, I ask only one thing. That you aid me in breaking the Geas if it is possible. And that if it is not possible, you try to set my soul at rest, in a way I will explain to you.” 

Dekaras nodded. “Very well,” he said. “We have an agreement.” He reached out his hand towards the other man, who suddenly grinned broadly, new hope lighting his eyes up. Yoshimo leapt to his feet, then shook the assassin’s hand firmly. 

“Mordo, my friend,” he said, “you will not regret this. May this be a long and fruitful partnership!”

“Yes,” Dekaras said. “And hopefully one that will not end in blood.” 

-*-

“I hear. You who have suffered, who still suffer. The time is at an end. Letter of the law states that we guard until the end of time. Our time has ended.”

Zaerini had half expected the diseased people outside the temple to refuse to call upon their lost god, even after they had been shown the destroyed Rift Device. In the end, it was Jaheira who had persuaded them, patiently explaining that their time of suffering could end at any time that they wished, but they would need to petition their god first. And so they had, albeit with great reluctance. They had called upon their god, speaking his name with reverence and faith for the first time in…well, in a very long time. Centuries at least, Rini suspected. Amaunator. Lord of the Sun. 

And the god had come. He was no longer as pale and faded as before, but he radiated a bright light that made it almost impossible to see his face. Yet it was there, inside the glow, and when Rini squinted she could tell that he was smiling. 

The high priest was weeping openly now, and as the tears streamed down his face, the sores that had disfigured it melted away, washed away as easily as mud stains under a clean spring rain. “Praise be to the keeper of time,” he said in a trembling voice, “that he should let it end for the just.” Behind him, the other worshipers were examining themselves, marveling at their newly restored forms. 

Amaunator nodded. “This is the end of things. Rest your mind in my heart. Rest.” He raised his arms, golden sunlight spreading out from his fingertips, and when it faded once again his former servants were all gone. Rini happened to turn her eyes at that moment and saw that Anomen’s eyes were rather shiny. The cleric murmured something under his breath, something that she couldn’t quite catch, but she thought she could catch the word ‘faith’.

“Oh…are all the poor sad people dead now?” Minsc said, frowning. “Minsc is sorry if that is so, but maybe they are happier now?”

“They have been dead a long time,” Amaunator said. “But now, at long last, they are at peace.” He sighed, and then his gaze swept across the adventurers, one by one. “You have done a great service, greater than perhaps you realize,” he said. “My servants may now rest safely in my Halls, and the Great Device is…destroyed.” He held up the black and charred lump that had once been the Rift Device, dangling it between his thumb and forefinger. “Very thoroughly…destroyed.” 

“The perils of traveling with a lady in a certain delicate state,” Haer’Dalis murmured, and his teeth flashed white in a sudden grin. “Ah, the glorious destruction that she brings! What next will fall victim to her fury, I wonder? Perhaps a giant, a dragon, or the entire hordes of the Underdark? If only I had a harp at hand, I might compose a passable ballad about it.” 

“If you do that,” Edwina snarled, “the first thing that will ‘fall victim to my fury’ will be the harp in question. The only question is whether I will throttle you with the strings until your face turns as purple as your prose, or whether I will simply break it in two, sharpen the ends, and improve your singing voice by turning you from a flawed tenor into a perfect soprano. (Or perhaps both. Yes, that seems the perfect solution.)” She hadn’t taken her current situation well, not at all well in fact. After the first shock had settled down her mood had shifted to a simmering outrage directed at the world in general. Zaerini decided that some private mollification later on would probably be a good idea. _Maybe a tummy rub to start with._

“And now,” Amaunator said, “I must leave. But before I depart this plane, I make you a vow.” His voice was stronger now, no longer hesitant in the least, and the light emanating from him now made it impossible to look directly at him. “I am still…diminished, and do not have much power left here. But I have enough for one thing, one thing that will be needed in the future.” He turned to Zaerini. “When next you find an old temple to me, mark carefully what you find there. I cannot see all…much of the future is dim to me. But I see you by my altar, needing my aid. Remember this, and I will do what I can, in return for what has been done for my children. Remember well…” With those words, his light faded, and he faded along with it, until the temple was dark once more. 

“What?” Edwina complained. “That’s it? Some vague and almost certainly empty promise, signifying nothing? (Typical cheapskate, that god. I’m certain he has all sorts of interesting magical scrolls and items stashed away for his retirement; you’d think he’d offer some as a sign of gratitude for my magnificent performance.)”

“Oh hush,” Jaheira impatiently said, nudging the wizard. “Do not be such an ingrate. We achieved what we set out to do, and now have the personal favor of Amaunator, surely something far more valuable than any mere trinket.” 

“Ha! The day this wizard relies on the favor of some overblown firefly like that one will not come until I’m cold in my tomb!” 

“A humbling experience, to come before the divine such as this,” Keldorn murmured, stroking his short, silvery-white beard. “It should give us all much to reflect upon.” 

“Might be,” Rini said. “But right now, there’s one thing I’d like to reflect on even more.” She tossed her hair back across her shoulder, winking at the paladin. “The look in Gaal’s eye sockets when he learns of the sad, sad fate of his ‘god’.” 

As it turned out, Zaerini didn’t have to wait long to see that. As the adventurers made their way to towards the surface, they could hear panicky screams filtering down from above, and correctly guessed that the powers of Gaal and his followers had waned as the Unseeing Eye was turned into a collapsed bit of blubber. As turned a corner, they suddenly found themselves face to face with a highly stressed out High Priest. Gaal was stumbling along, feeling the walls, now and then bumping into them. Whatever power the Unseeing Eye had used to give him sight despite his missing eyes, it had now completely left him. His graying hair was ruffled and sweaty, sticking out in all directions, and his face looked somehow slack and fearful, and about twenty years older than previously. “Who…who goes there?” he asked, and there was little of the previously slick demagogue left in his voice. “I can hear you!” His head twitched nervously here and there, as he tried to get a sense of how many people were watching him. 

“Well,” Jan said, “this is an interesting situation. Actually, it reminds me of a story.”

Zaerini grinned. “Minsc,” she sweetly asked. “Would you hold onto Gaal, please? I suspect a little education would be good for him.” 

“Minsc is happy to help!” the giant man said, and he grabbed hold of the protesting Gaal and held him in a gentle but firm grip, making certain he couldn’t plug his ears.

“Now, where was I?” Jan said. “Oh yes. My cousin Moe Jansen was an unfortunately dense lad, as thick as a pile of bricks in fact. Now, you might think that this would put him at something of a disadvantage, but that wasn’t the case at all, oh no. See, Cousin Moe was a Jansen after all, and so he had the gift of speech, and of being well spoken and captivating to his audience.” 

“And you are certain he was a legitimate Jansen?” Jaheira said. 

“Oh, certain as anything, my dear Jaheira. He had a turnip shaped birthmark and everything, it pops up now and then in the family line. I’ve got one myself if you would like to see. I’ll just hitch my robes up and…”

“No!” 

“Ah, well. Maybe later. Anyway, Cousin Moe had the gift of speech, so he found himself some people even denser than he was, down at ‘Mr Flip’s School For Young Gentlemen’.”

“I know of that place!” Keldorn exclaimed, staring at the gnome. “I fear it turns out the most awful selection of young fops that you ever saw. Completely worthless drones, most of them.”

“And the perfect audience for Cousin Moe. He convinced the headmaster to take him on as a teacher, and before you knew it, he had formed his own secret cult fond of self-mutilation and blind obedience, much like this one. He told them it would help them meet girls. It was called ‘The Secret Little Sisters of Athkatla’.”

“Little sisters?” Anomen asked, frowning. “But I thought you said the cult members were young gentlemen?”

“Sure Ano. They _were_.”

“Oh…Oh!” Anomen paled visibly and placed his hands in a protective position that he probably wasn’t aware of himself. “But why…”

“To meet more girls, as I said,” Jan went on. “And so they did…in a sense. Funny thing is none of them seemed very pleased about it afterwards. In the end, it all went wrong for Cousin Moe though. See, stupid as he was he’d forgotten that blind obedience is all very well in a cult, but that if the promised goodies, lovely nymphs or free lunches aren’t delivered, then the cult members are apt to get a bit antsy. They weren’t pleased at all, no sir. Have you ever seen a gnome stomped flat by a dozen heavy humans wearing high heeled shoes? Not a pretty sight. Afterwards, poor Cousin Moe was so full of holes that the wind would whistle through him whenever he walked, and he eventually wound up earning his keep by letting people blow through him for coppers.” 

By now, Gaal was whimpering with abject misery, and if he still had had his eyes, Rini was sure that he would have been crying. “Pleeeeeease!” he cried. “No more! Pleeeeease! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’ll confess anything! I’ll plead guilty in court! Just please get him to stop!” 

“You’ll plead guilty, will you?” This new voice made Rini turn around, to see a little bald eyeless man standing behind her and her friends, his arms sternly crossed across his chest. Sassar? I hope I won’t have to explain to him that the scarf he gave me was chewed up and drooled on by the Unseeing Eye. 

“Yes!” Gaal said. He was on his knees now, his hands raised in supplication. “Yes, yes, yes! Only keep the gnome away from me!” 

“That can be arranged,” Sassar said. A number of eyeless people came up behind him, and they were moving with a new surety that Rini didn’t think had been there before. They were still blind, but they were no longer afraid. “Come with us, and I and my friends here will escort you to the surface, where I’m sure you’ll get a much fairer trial than any you ever held down in your disgusting pit.” He turned towards Zaerini, bowing deeply. “Thank you, my friends! You have done a great and wonderful thing indeed, and I will be forever grateful to you all. We will take care of this one, don’t worry. Now that the way out is safe, we will be able to get out on our own, though your company will of course be very welcome.” He grabbed Gaal by the arm, and then marched him off through the tunnels, waving back towards the adventurers. The other blind people followed him, and their steps were confident and sure. Gaal was still whimpering. 

“The blind leading the blind…” Anomen said. “Amazing.” 

“Well now!” Jan said, preening like a peacock. “Isn’t amazing how a good story can so totally change a person’s moral outlook? Maybe I should form a cult of my own, what do you say? There’s bound to be some blind folk left behind down here, ready to be scooped up by an enterprising gnome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, Edwin, if you only knew just how important Amaunator's favour will eventually be to you.


	101. The Paladin’s Wife

**Cards Reshuffled 101 – The Paladin’s Wife**

_Imagine a pure and unselfish person, always willing to sacrifice himself for complete strangers. Always willing to help others, with no thought for himself, or how much time and effort it costs him. Sounds good? In that case, imagine trying to live with such a person…_

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“My lady? Now that this business of the cult has been satisfactorily sorted out, would you and your companions perchance care to dine with me tonight? There is cause for some celebration with the defeat of this lingering evil, I would say.” 

Zaerini felt a sudden elation at this. It meant not only free food in pleasant company but getting something other than tavern food or stuff cooked by the roadside. It also meant going out…and a chance for dressing up a bit. _After all, Keldorn’s not just a paladin, he’s a noble. I bet his home is really fancy. It would be good practice for me…suppose I have to do a formal dinner with Eddie’s parents at some point? Wouldn’t want them to think me some ignorant bumpkin._

_Of course not, kitten_ , Softpaws said, carefully adjusting her position in the half-elf’s arms. _But you are forgetting yourself. A cat is always welcome wherever she goes, and whatever she does automatically is proper manners._

_It doesn’t work quite that way with people…but thanks all the same._

_You are welcome. Now scratch my ears and be thorough about it._

Grinning, the bard bent to her task. “Of course, Keldorn,” she told the paladin. “I’m sure we’d all love to come. What about your wife though? Won’t she mind you dragging all of us home? You said you haven’t been home for a while, after all.” 

Keldorn nodded gravely. “Aye, it is so,” he said. “I fear the duties of the Order frequently take me away from the fair halls of home, and from my beloved Maria as well. But though I miss her greatly, and my dear Leona and Vesper as well, they know the reason for my absence and understand it. Still, you have a good point. Perhaps a simple introduction would be in order first, and then we can involve Maria with the dinner plans.” 

“Wise man,” Jaheira said, in a very dry voice. “Tell me, Keldorn, when was it you last were home?” 

Keldorn gave the druid a puzzled look. “Why…it would have been about six weeks…no. Two months comes closer.” He sighed. “The Order is a harsh mistress…how did the time pass so quickly?” 

“I can guess,” Jaheira said, tossing her golden-brown braids back across her shoulder. There was a dangerous glint in her green eyes, Zaerini thought, but Keldorn hadn’t noticed it yet. “Keldorn, in nature there are several species where the male and female encounter each other only once a year, in the mating season. But humans, as a rule, are expected to be a little more constant than that.”

“Lady Jaheira!” Keldorn’s eyes were very wide, and he sounded equally shocked and outraged. “Such a comment does not become you.” 

“Oh, nonsense. I do not speak to insult you, Keldorn, but to warn you. I do not know your wife, but I doubt she would be pleased to know that you cannot even remember how long you have been away from her.” 

Keldorn drew himself up stiffly, and his beard was quivering with indignation. “My lady, I do not care to discuss this subject further at this time. Let me assure you that Lady Maria is well aware of the strains and rigors of knighthood and understanding of its demands. You will see that for yourself as I introduce you to her.” 

Jaheira didn’t reply, but Zaerini thought she saw the druid rolling her eyes, and it made her feel vaguely uneasy. She wished she could question Jaheira privately about her thoughts, but this wasn’t the time or place. No, she’d have to take things as they came. 

The High Watcher in the Temple of Helm had been very pleased with their efforts regarding the Unseeing Eye, and their financial situation was definitely looking up. They still didn’t have enough to pay the Shadow Thieves’ fee, but they were getting closer. However, new gear needed to be bought, especially a new weapon for Jaheira, now that the druid’s old staff was broken. A trip to the Adventurer’s Mart seemed in order. _And then I suppose we’ll have to go with Haer’Dalis and give Raelis her gem back. And then look for the rest of Kangaxx’s bones…I’m not about to take any chances there. And we still need to help Anomen look into Moira’s murder…but maybe Keldorn’s wife can help there? Wasn’t she supposed to be friends with Moira?_ Meanwhile, it was probably a good idea to smooth things over. “Keldorn, if you’re sure it’s no problem we’d love to meet your family,” she decisively said. “How about if we go that way before I head back to the Five Flagons?”

The paladin nodded, and he already seemed his normal calm self again. “Of course,” he said. “That sounds like an excellent idea.” Then he smiled. “I do hope that Leona won’t get it into her head to run off with you, Zaerini. She is only a few years younger than you, I believe, and she has always loved stories of adventure. If it is not too much trouble, would you mind entertaining her with a few tales of your own?”

“Sure thing!” Rini said. She always enjoyed performing, and this was a case she could really sympathize with. _I remember back in Candlekeep when Gorion would tell me and Immy stories, and we’d dream about going on adventures of our own some day._ She had to swallow briefly. Somehow, none of those stories had any leather-masked maniac mages in them. _Oh Immy…please hang on a little longer. I will get you out of there._

Keldorn’s home was situated in the Government District, and it was a beautiful old red-stone mansion surrounded by a lush garden. Keldorn’s steps turned lighter as they approached, and the smile on his face made him look about ten years younger. “Ah, to taste the airs of home…” he said, lovingly touching the palms of his hands to the two trees growing just inside the gate. Zaerini noticed that their trunks were twined around each other, and correctly guessed that somebody had bound them together when they were mere saplings. “Maria and I planted these on the day of our marriage, one each, symbolizing our ties to each other.” His smile turned almost boyish. “Now come, and we will see if we can surprise her.” 

“Oh, good!” Minsc said, clapping his hands. “Minsc loves surprises, and so does Boo! Sometimes, he likes to hide in small places and leap out on Minsc, but there is no danger for he saves his deadly bite for foes needing Hamster Hamstringing!” 

“Well, my friend, there are no foes here,” Keldorn said, clapping the ranger on the shoulder. “Only the comforts of home, and I am happy to offer it to you all, after your long time on the road.” 

The mansion was as beautiful inside as out and managed to avoid the trap of being overly opulent. Instead it was calm and serene, with many beautiful paintings on the walls, mostly landscapes. In the background, Zaerini caught the sound of running water, and guessed that it was one of the little indoor pools so common in Athkatla. A plump little woman in her forties, with dark curls framing a worried face, came towards them as they entered. She was wearing a modest dark blue dress, and she kept wringing her spotless apron between her hands. “My…my Lord Keldorn!” she stammered. “I had not known you had returned…”

“Well, so I have, my dear Peony!” Keldorn laughed. “Come now, are you that unhappy to see me? You didn’t break another plate, I hope?” 

Peony smiled wanly, and Zaerini was beginning to get a very unpleasant feeling about this entire situation. Something wasn’t right here, even if Keldorn couldn’t see it yet. The servant looked more than unhappy, she looked guilty. “My Lord, I…” 

“Is Lady Maria home?” Keldorn asked. “And my daughters? Where are Leona and Vesper? Ask them to come down, would you, Peony? I long to see them.” 

Peony gulped. “Yes, my Lord…they are all home today. I will fetch the girls at once and let Lady Maria know you have arrived.”

“Good, good,” Keldorn said, sounding a little absent-minded. “Off you go then. I will see my guests into the atrium.” As the woman scurried off, he ushered the adventurers into the room where the sound of water was coming from. There was a pool, just as Zaerini had guessed, with beautiful green water, calm and clear. A small fountain gurgled in the middle. The windows showed a lovely view of the garden, but without letting the hot sunlight in. Marble benches stood along the walls, but there were soft-looking cushions lying on them, and those broke what might otherwise have been an austere impression. Especially the cushion that had been clumsily embroidered in primary red and yellow on a blue background, and that showed a stick figure with the word ‘DADDY’ above it. The figure was holding what was probably meant to be a very big sword. 

Now Peony returned, with two girls following in her wake. The older, Leona looked to be a few years younger than Zaerini herself, with dark hair gathered into a braid that hung low on her back. She didn’t look particularly happy about seeing her father – rather there was a slightly sullen look on her face. The younger girl, Vesper, looked to be about five or so, with honey-blonde hair and a plentiful scattering of freckles. She looked at Keldorn with wide and uncertain eyes, and for an instant Rini wondered if she actually recognized her father at all. Certainly, this was nothing like her own childhood experiences, when Gorion had been away on some errand and she had rushed into his arms to welcome him home. Her unease grew further as she listened to Keldorn’s conversation with his daughters. The paladin seemed pleased to see them, but a bit awkward, as if he wasn't sure what to say to them. He chatted a little about how they were, and how their lessons were going. Vesper was shy and said little, mostly glancing uncertainly at the guests. Leona also said little, answering her father’s questions in as few words as she possibly could. Eventually, she asked if she might be excused, and when Keldorn gave his permission she retreated upstairs, tugging her little sister along after her. 

“So, who are these? Heathen you converted in Calimport, traveling pilgrims you stumbled across in Saradush?”

Zaerini turned around, to see a regal-looking woman standing on the stairs. She was tall, almost as tall as Keldorn was, with beautiful golden hair that was only just beginning to show silver strands here and there. She looked to be perhaps ten years younger than the paladin was, although it was hard to tell for certain, with her careful makeup. She was wearing a pale lavender dress, cut plainly with just a little bit of lace along the high collar and the cuffs of the sleeves, but clearly made from the finest silk. The only jewelry she seemed to be wearing was the gold wedding ring on her finger. She was beautiful, but there was coldness in her demeanor, something that made Rini think of a flower petrified by a late frost. 

As he saw the woman, Keldorn’s entire face lit up, and once again he seemed to shed a considerable number of years. He immediately stood to greet her. “Maria, this is Zaerini. She has aided me in clearing the city of a powerful Beholder, and she is also searching for her childhood companion who…”

At that some color leapt into the woman’s pale cheeks, and from the way he was clenching her fists Rini didn’t think it was because of happiness. “I don't care, Keldorn! It has been two months since you were here last, and then it was barely for a day! Not even enough to leave your scent about this place...” Her voice had been raised at first, almost a shout, but at the end it sank to an almost whisper of despair. 

Keldorn took a few steps towards his wife, holding out his hand towards her. “The work of the Order must be done, Maria. You know if I had my choice, I would be here…”

“Would you? Would you really? The guildhouse is right here in the city but even then, I never see you. It's always Radiant Heart this, Radiant Heart that!”

_Oh, blast! This is bad._ Zaerini wanted more than anything else to get out of this place, this house, right now, and not be forced to witness this domestic argument. This was something very, very private, something that Keldorn and his wife should deal with with no audience, and as she turned around, she could see that all her companions looked more or less uncomfortable. 

“Sir Keldorn,” Anomen tried, “perhaps we ought to…” 

But it was too late. Maria took a deep breath, and looked straight at Keldorn, ignoring the other people present. “What about me...what about my heart, Keldorn? What if I don't love you anymore?”

“Maria?” The single word was torn out of Keldorn’s throat as if it had been his heart that was ripped out of his chest. In a sense, Rini thought, it probably was. He stared at his wife, loss, confusion and heart clearly evident on his face. Maria had tears in her eyes now, but she went on relentlessly. 

“What if the girls can't live without a father anymore? What if I can't live without a husband?”

Keldorn shook his head. It seemed he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing just yet. “You do not love me anymore? ...I ...I have always loved you and I always shall. However well I hide it, every day I spend without you is a day that's lost forever.” He approached her, and took her hand, holding it tightly towards his chest. “I love you like I love the Church, but the Church is the harsher taskmaster...we knew that when we married.”

Maria bit her lips, and for a moment Rini thought she would relent. “I know, I know, and I love you in the same fashion, with all my heart...”

“Then if we have love, Maria, what could ever come between us?”

_Lots of things_ , Softpaws said. _And if you ask me, it’ll be a tom who’s better at courting than this one is. One with a really big…_

_Shush!_

Then, Maria pulled back from Keldorn, taking a few steps backwards away from him. “I... I've been seeing another man... The children and the servants already know... He -- He took the girls out to the circus, twice... oh, Keldorn...”

_See? What did I tell you? She’s found herself a new mate, and I bet the next litter is already on its way. Good for her, this tom won’t be good for hunting much longer._

_Softy, would you stop that?_

_What? What did I say?_

By now the hurt look on Keldorn’s face had been replaced by growing anger. His face was getting redder by the moment, and although he hadn’t raised his voice yet, it was rumbling, much like a volcano about to erupt. Rini nervously noticed that he had his hand on the hilt of his sword, grasping it tightly. “You... You what? What is his name?!”

Maria swallowed heavily. “William -- Sir William of Thorpe... I beg of you, don't hurt him, Keldorn. If I can't have you, at least let me have something!”

Keldorn was silent for a few seconds, and his jaws were so tightly clenched that they looked like they might break at any moment. “...Go--Go to your daughters,” he said, and his voice was thick with barely checked emotions. “To look at you right now, Maria... To look at you is to go mad.”

Maria looked as if she wanted to say something, but then she turned, and simply walked upstairs. Keldorn sat down on the staircase, his head in his hands, oblivious to the world around him.

Zaerini startled as somebody touched her elbow and turned to see Anomen’s concerned face close to her own. “This…this is bad, Zaerini,” the priest murmured. “For Maria to have relations with another man is punishable by imprisonment. Keldorn must be tearing himself up, inside...”

“Hah!” Edwina scoffed. “Cuckoldry is punishable by imprisonment in this place, is it? In Thay, it would be death by dismemberment. The wench should consider herself lucky! (Then again, I cannot really blame her. Any woman of sense and sensibility would assuredly begin to wonder why exactly he spends so much time with the young squires at the Order headquarters rather than with her, draw the logical conclusions and head for greener pastures.)”

_See?_ Softpaws said. _Your mate has the right of it…at least you were sensible in choosing one._

-*-

“Curse the dictates of honor! ...Oh, the very gods demand that I bring this case before the courts. Sir William shall be hung, and my love imprisoned. There is no other outcome.” Keldorn felt the words torn out of his chest, raw and bleeding. _Even as my heart bleeds with its mortal wound. Maria…Maria, how could you?_ The agony was physical as well as mental, a tight rope constricting his chest, making it difficult to even draw breath. He was leaning against the wall, trying to steady himself, but there were still black spots swimming in front of his eyes. _Should I die now, I would not be forced to live with her betrayal. Would not be forced to do my duty._

“Keldorn? Keldorn what are you saying? You…don’t really want to send your wife to jail, do you?” Zaerini sounded both shocked and disbelieving. “I mean, I understand you’re feeling awful, but do you really hate her that much?”

“Hate?” He laughed, a bitter, empty laugh. “Nay, my lady. I love my Maria, now and forever, as I have always done. But you do not understand. The law is very clear on this.” _Maria…my beautiful Maria in a dank prison cell, her eyes dull with pain, her cheeks so pale. How can I do that to her? How could she do this to me?_ But she had betrayed him, had she not? Betrayed their vows, their entire marriage. And did not Torm dictate that the betrayer must suffer for his sins? A small voice inside him tried to tell him that what Torm willed was not what was guiding him at the moment. Right now, he was not a paladin first and foremost, he was a man. A man who had just learnt that his beloved wife had been unfaithful to him. The very thought of that was enough to make black anger rise inside of him, as he pictured what must have gone on in his absence. 

_All the while I was away…striving to make Faerun a better place for our children to grow up in…and she was with him. With him. Having dinners…taking walks…taking our own children with them for Torm’s sake! As if he were their father! And then…did they spend their passion in some shady inn? Did they copulate in the wild like beasts in heat? Or did they come together in our bed?_ The black spots had turned red now and were swirling rapidly. He could picture them together, grunting and sweating with forbidden desire, limbs twined together. _In our bed!_ He could picture his wife’s beautiful golden hair, spread out against a white pillow, her face flushed with lust. And…and on top of her…

“Keldorn! Who cares what the law says?” The girl sounded angry now, and her words finally penetrated to him, scattering a little of the fury. He slowly released the hold of his sword. He hadn’t even realized that he’d been gripping it. “What do you say? Do you remember not that long ago, when you said something about how a paladin must sometimes make choices? Difficult choices?”

Yes. Yes, he remembered that. And she had said something else, had she not? Something about…about thinking he would have to make a choice, and soon. An important one. Well, it could not get more important than this. But it was hard…so hard. _Maria…I love you._ Yet at this moment in time he hated her as well, hated her for the hurt she had caused him. He had to admit it, if only to himself. Part of him wanted her to suffer, to be in as much pain as he was. 

“Sir Keldorn? Sir Keldorn, may I speak?” Young Anomen, the squire. Yet he had come so far recently – it was almost difficult to think of him as a squire any longer. In the wake of that, the lad’s respectfulness was particularly touching. _I do not deserve such reverence. Not a man who…who might have harmed his own wife had she not left the room when she did._ He simply nodded, wordlessly. 

“Sir Keldorn…you know that I recently suffered a grievous loss. My dear sister, Moira. But I did not fully explain to you the aftermath of that death.” Anomen spoke on, his eyes very earnest and his voice sad as he detailed the sordid tale of his drunken father’s scheme for vengeance. “I denied him,” Anomen eventually said. “It was…difficult. At times I wonder if I made the right choice, and I still long for the death of my sister’s killer, to take his life with my own hands. Yet in my heart I know it was for the best that I did not strike out in blind fury but instead chose to pursue the course of justice. Forgive me for speaking so freely, my Lord Keldorn, but revenge does not equal justice. I know that now.”

For a moment the anger flared again. How dare this…this boy chide him so, as if he were a green recruit on the practice field? But then, mercifully, calmer sense prevailed. “There is…a truth in your words, Squire Anomen,” he managed to say. “And I thank you for them. Yet I am still not sure what is the right thing to do here.”

Edwina sighed impatiently. “It is perfectly simple,” she said. “The man has offended you, yes? So, if you do not wish to drag this through the courts (Which admittedly can be a tedious procedure) then you simply kill him. Or arrange for it, if you prefer it that way.” 

“I do not hire assassins!” Keldorn retorted, feeling his cheeks grow hot. 

“Why not? You are surely wealthy enough, you should be able to afford a decent one, if not the top quality of course. (Not that I can imagine he’d work for paladins anyway.)” 

“Edwina!” Zaerini hissed. ”I know things are different in Thay, but trust me, this is a very good time to change the subject.” 

“She does have one point though,” Jaheira said, pursing her lips in thought. “It might be a good idea for you to seek this Sir William out, and have a word with him. Who is he, by the way?” 

Keldorn sighed. “Sir William of Thorpe... He's a foreign noble establishing trade here in Athkatla. He was a good man -- at least I always thought so until... until now. Now, nothing seems clear anymore.” Then he took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. He still did not know how to handle this situation, but it was true that seeing…seeing him would be a start. And it would get him out of this house…this house where every sight, sound and scent reminded him of Maria. “He is often to be found at the Mithrest Inn in Waukeen’s Promenade,” he said. “I will go there now. And if you would accompany me, I would be grateful.” It smarted to have to admit it, but he did not fully trust himself. 

“Of course all good friends will come!” Minsc said, clapping Keldorn so hard on the back that the paladin had to cough. “Minsc is sad to see you sad, Keldorn. I never had a wife, but I think that having a fight with one would be almost as bad as having a fight with Boo, and that would make Minsc cry and cry all night. Boo is sorry too. See, he is crying!” 

“Yes…well…” Keldorn said, staring into the beady little black eyes of the hamster being thrust into his face. If it was crying, he couldn’t see it. “Tell Boo thank you, my good ranger.”

“Boo already knows. Boo also says that a Bad Man has made you into a cuckoo…but Minsc knows what cuckoos look like, and there are no feathers or wings on you. Sometimes Boo says very strange things.” 

“I believe the rodent means ‘cuckold’,” Haer’Dalis murmured. “Though I see your point, it is not our gallant knight here who is the cuckoo in this case. The cuckoo will lay its eggs into another bird’s nest after all.” 

That was a thought too horrible to contemplate. _WHAT IF HE HAS MADE HER PREGNANT?_ True, Maria was not as young as she had been, but she was younger than Keldorn himself. It could happen, he supposed. 

“I think we should go now,” Zaerini said, tugging on his arm. “Correction – I really think we should go now. You’re grinding your teeth and that’s a bad sign in a man with a big sword.” 

Keldorn was never quite able to remember the walk to the Mithrest Inn afterwards. He strode through the city in a kind of daze, and the others practically had to run in order to keep up with him. Then he was suddenly there, throwing the door open. He looked about the common room of the Mithrest, searching for the man he wanted. He would be there. He had to be there. Then he spotted him, sitting at a table on the far side of the room, nursing a small beer. _Sir William. We meet at last._

Keldorn knew what Sir William looked like, of course. He had met him before. Yet in his mind’s eye he had somehow constructed another version of him. A young, handsome seducer, with fiery eyes, strong muscles and a flashing smile. Now he was reminded that the reality was worse, far worse. Sir William was younger than Keldorn himself, but only by perhaps five years or so. He was nearsighted and wore a neat gold-rimmed pince-nez, and behind it his eyes were mild and nervous-looking. His hair was thinning on top of his head, and though his clothes were finely made they couldn’t hide the fact that he was skinny as a rake. When he saw Keldorn he swallowed heavily and bit his lip. _Could Maria not at least have picked a paramour more worthy than this one? That she should toss me aside for this…this…wilting dandy! ‘tis an insult too grievous to bear._

“M'lord Keldorn... I was hoping you would come.” Sir William’s voice trembled a little, but he sounded earnest enough. 

“May I presume, then, that you know why I am here?” Keldorn spoke in carefully clipped tones, fighting to keep his temper. What he wanted to do, what he really wanted to do, was to challenge this wretched man to a duel, and then to cleave him from scalp to groin. Groin especially. 

“I was a husband to your wife and a father to your children, if that is what you mean.”

Now that did it. Maria with this man, that was bad enough a thought. But not his children. Not his sweet children. “M'lady Maria has but one husband and it is I... As for Vesper and Leona, how dare you defile them with your presence!” He had his hand on the hilt of his sword by now, holding it tightly, and his jaws were aching, so hard was he clenching them. 

“Keldorn.” Jaheira’s voice, calm and cool as a clear river. “Keldorn, your children would have preferred your presence, I am sure. As would your wife. It was plain on her face when we met her.” 

Sir William hurriedly nodded. “It is so,” he said. “They miss you, enough that they were desperate enough to crave a substitute for the father who was so rarely there for them.” 

“You dare claim an altruistic motive?” Keldorn challenged. The anger was still hot within his chest, straining to break free. “YOU! So says the viper who will sleep in my bed, running his wretched fingers through the spun gold that is her hair? What do you wish, Sir William? To have a child that is not even yours?”

The man looked stunned for a few seconds. “You think…no. No, Lord Keldorn. I have been a spent wick for many years. Nor can I claim to have been entirely unselfish – the lady is gracious and beautiful, and what time I spent with her was a pleasure. I thought, for some time, that it might last…but I have learnt better. Lady Maria loves you deeply, but without expression love withers and dies. I was but a single drop of moisture, you are the oasis for which she searches. Love her, and I will be but wind-borne dust.”

“And also,” Zaerini murmured, “you figure that unless you talk really fast, Keldorn here will chop you into tiny little pieces, right? Pretty speech though, one of my favorites. From ‘Rundorig, the half-orc of Tethyr’, act three, scene two. You need to work on delivery though, that sounded just a little bit too rehearsed.” 

Sir William paled significantly, and his eyes darted nervously between the half-elf and Keldorn, eventually settling upon the sword in the paladin’s hand. “I…that is…” 

“How is it that it goes on again…Haery, help me out here, would you?”

“But of course, dear Raven,” the blue-haired tiefling said, bowing slightly. “Next, Rundorig says ‘As rare as moisture in the desert is an honest man, thy words taste dry as blowing sand. My skin be green, and plain I be, speak plainly now I ask of thee. Or else my anger great shall wax, and thou wilt come to know my axe.’” He grinned. “Then, alas, the dishonest man carries on lying, and the half-orc chops his head off. Always a crowd-pleaser, that scene.” 

By now Sir William had gone an interesting shade of green. “I…I d-do admit that I was trying to put things in a…in a somewhat better light!” he stuttered. “Please don’t kill me! I didn’t lie about caring for Lady Maria, and I honestly tried to give her comfort! I swear it!” 

His words did ring true, Keldorn had to admit that much, despite the fury that still raged inside him. _Maria…it should have been I who gave you comfort. But it was not, was it? I was not there. I…was not there. Hardly ever there. You erred, but so did I._ He wanted to hold her tightly, to speak the words directly to her, to tell her that he forgave her and to ask her forgiveness too, for all the lost time. _The law may contradict me – but the law of Amn is not perfect in every way. I will not send my Maria to imprisonment and torment. Nor will I strike down this man in anger, for what is right and just must come before the demands of my personal honor._ “Go in peace,” he calmly told Sir William. “You have spoken the truth, and for that you have my thanks. I do not wish to encounter you anywhere close to my wife again though.” 

Once Sir William had slunk upstairs, looking much like a kicked dog, Keldorn took a deep breath of relief. It felt as if a heavy stone had fallen from his chest. Slowly, purposefully, he started walking towards the door. “Sir Keldorn!” Anomen called out. “Where are you going?”

Keldorn smiled. “I am going home, Squire Anomen,” he said. “I am going home, at long last.”


	102. Don’t Say His Name

**Cards Reshuffled 102 – Don’t Say His Name**

_If you are successful enough, it will unfortunately be impossible to entirely prevent some rumors getting about. You may keep as low a profile in public as you like, but clients talk with each other from time to time, and stories get embellished, even if the tales only circulate in a very select circle._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

It looked as if it was going to be a fine day, Degardan thought. The sky was still gray with the light of pre-dawn, but it was clear with no clouds in sight. The Red Wizard yawned hugely. Curse the time difference between here and Thay…it would already be late afternoon where Salenaz was, and since she was his superior it was her needs that determined when he was allowed to contact her. Unfortunately, that meant being awake at this horrible hour to give his report. Well, at least she had seemed pleased enough. He might not have killed Odesseiron yet, but he was getting closer. His divination spells had spread across the city like a fine web, and last night he had finally located his prey. He hadn’t moved at once though, that wouldn’t have been prudent at all. He might be an excellent wizard, one specialized in both casting and protecting himself against the nastiest of curses, but that didn’t mean he could neglect preparations. 

_But now I am done_ , he thought. The offensive spells were all prepared, but equally important, so were the defensive ones. He was using his favorite series of nasty contingency spells, one that should protect him against anything young Edwin and his companions could throw against him. Protection against Magical Weapons…Spell Reflection…and his very favorite trick, a series of Horrid Wiltings, that terrible spell that would drain the life out of the most dangerous of foes. It was set up to trigger as soon as he was attacked, targeting the source of the attack. Pity he couldn’t get in a Mislead and an Immunity to Divination as well, but there was a limit to how many spells he could squeeze in there, even if he was an expert on contingencies. Oh well. If worst came to worst, he’d just have to cast them separately. In any case, he should be quite safe from both muscle and magic, as it were. _Edwin Odesseiron, you will never know what hit you. And once I return to Thay, your premature demise will serve me very well within the ranks of the Red Wizards._ There was one concern though…one nagging little doubt that he couldn’t quite rid himself of. 

_What of…the other one?_ He didn’t want to say the name out loud, didn’t even want to think it. Yes, that was superstitious nonsense, of course it was. _Saying his name won’t really make him take form within the shadows under my bed and kill me before the final syllable leaves my lips. That’s only a story. I know that. Just the same as the one about how saying his name three times before a mirror inside a dark room will make him come out of the mirror and rip your heart out of your chest. He’s not a demon after all; he’s only a man._

On the other hand, some of the stories he had heard wouldn’t have bothered him half as much if they had been about a demon. Mortals should only be able to get away with so much. And this particular mortal was thought to be able to get away with quite a lot indeed. The stories were always hushed…they were after constructions after all, since anybody who actually encountered him at work wasn’t able to describe it afterwards. And nobody could be sure how many deaths there actually were that could be attributed to him. It was reasonably safe to assume that many would have appeared natural and caused no suspicion. _Ha…what a…what a load of garbage! He isn’t with Edwin, or I would have known, wouldn’t I? Certainly, I would have. No, I should be quite safe, there has been not a sign of him so far._

A small, hesitant voice tried to warn Degardan that that was actually not a very reassuring thing at all. He ignored it. _And even if he should come after me there is no possible way he can get to me! My spells will deal with him as they would with anybody, I don’t even need to see him for the Horrid Wiltings to go off. They will target any source of attack._

Stifling another yawn, the wizard shuffled towards the door, and carefully pulled it open after having made certain that nobody was waiting on the landing outside. There was nobody, of course, only the boots he had left out for the maid to polish last night, just as usual. They were nice and shiny all right. As was his habit, Degardan held both of them upside down, shaking them out. _They say…they say he got what’s his name…that slave trader…by putting poisoned spikes into his shoes. Well, that won’t get me! Oh no._ Nothing whatsoever fell out, but Degardan pulled on a thick glove and felt all way inside the boots just the same. No, they seemed to be safe. No spikes, nor any scorpions or spiders. Probably he was being paranoid, but you couldn’t be paranoid enough when dealing with the likes of _him_.

_I heard that he gave half his soul up to be as good as he is, and that whichever devil he sold it to will come and collect the other half once he is dead. And that he drains the souls of his targets to trick the devil out of his due payment. Of course, that is just…superstition. He is not really the Bogeyman. I could say his name if I wanted to, and absolutely nothing would happen. I simply…do not care to do it at this particular time, that is all._

It was now that Degardan noticed that there was something else on the landing after all, something that had been left under one of the boots so it wouldn’t get lost. A small envelope, white and innocent. No name on it, and no address. Gingerly, he nudged it with his toe. Nothing happened, except that it was overturned, and now he could see the symbol that had been drawn on the back of it. A spiral drawn with red ink, with a sparkling star in the center. The symbol of the Red Wizards, the very symbol he had asked his agents to use if they wanted to report back to him regarding Odesseiron’s whereabouts. Smiling faintly, he took off the clumsy gloves and opened the envelope, having checked that it was light, and could hide nothing more sinister than a piece of paper. 

Indeed, a piece of paper was inside. Degardan pulled it out, unfolded it, then stared at it for a few seconds before he swore. The paper was blank. And now, where his fingers were touching it, it was smoking. Thick clouds of billowing, choking smoke, that made him cough violently and drop the blank letter. _An attack! I’m under attack!_ Almost as if on cue, magical spells flared up around him, cloaking him with protective shields, even as three powered-up Horrid Wiltings tried to drain all moisture out of the booby-trapped letter. Given that it wasn’t actually alive, the spells accomplished only one thing, namely, to fill the room with even more smoke that almost blinded the wizard entirely. _NO! No, no, no! Choking…air…must have air!_ His own spells caused him no harm, but the smoke from the letter was still making him cough and causing his eyes to water. He needed air, needed it now. Coughing and sputtering, Degardan pulled the window open and stuck his head out into the morning sunlight. _Finally…_

Thunk. 

The non-magical, but very sharp crossbow bolt hit the wizard right between the eyes, penetrating directly into his brain. His eyes widened, more with surprised shock than with pain, and a string of drool formed at the corner of his mouth. His body slackened, and slumped, and then fell, toppling out the window like a sack of oats. Degardan was dead long before he hit the ground, and his last thought was one of righteous indignation. _But I never even said his name out loud!_

-*- 

Dekaras was already moving by the time the wizard met with the street. It was early enough that few people were up and about, but he still didn’t want to attract too much attention. Not that there was a high risk of being spotted, as such. He had picked up a set of very non-descript clothes in shades of brown, gray and brick red for this little outing, causing him to blend in nicely with the roof opposite the inn where Degardan had been staying. His lips twitched into a small smirk as he imagined the flabbergasted reactions of both Edwin and Imoen to that, had they been there. _Black might be my favorite color, but practicality must be given precedence before stylishness when you’re working._ Not that he’d want to keep these particular rags for long, of course. 

Everything had gone perfectly according to plan, the assassin mused as he slid down from the roof, using some moves that would have made a less dexterous person drop to his death in seconds. Watching Degardan for a few days and paying close attention to his habits including the spells he memorized each evening had certainly paid off. The man had been a skilled wizard, but like so many of his kind far too trusting in the infallibility of his spells. He clearly hadn’t considered just how many loopholes there were to be exploited in those spells. Dekaras had, of course. It was something of a hobby of his; devising ways to get at ‘impossible’ targets, and as far as he was concerned there was no such thing. _Take the ‘Protection Against Magical Weapons’ for one. It is amazing how many mages rely on that, totally ignoring the fact that a non-magical weapon will punch through the spell like a nail through a paper bag. At least I have pounded that into Edwin enough that he should hopefully know better than to think that spell makes him invulnerable._

Then there had been the offensive contingencies, of course. Now those might well have been lethal, if they had hit him. _Too bad for Degardan they aren’t that discriminating_ , Dekaras thought as he slid down a drainpipe towards the second floor of the house, and then let himself silently drop to the ground. His trapped missive had taken care of that, even though the gas was harmless in itself the spell had interpreted it as an attack and had thus discharged prematurely. And of course, the gas had served the added purpose of bringing his target to a spot where he could be easily gotten at. There had been the risk of Degardan choosing to head out the door instead of towards the window of course. Had the wizard done so, he would have stepped directly into a very nasty trap that had been set on the stairs leading down from his room and that would freeze its victim in place and make him quite vulnerable. Yoshimo’s invention, and a very nice one. The bounty hunter hadn’t asked what he wanted it for but had been content to help. After all, the other man wanted his aid. _I must see about learning how to make those, if I have the time. They would be a nice addition to my repertoire._ Though it was good that he hadn’t been forced to rely on the trap. It would have meant having to go inside to finish Degardan off, and this way was far cleaner and quicker. 

The assassin calmly crossed the street, his small crossbow now carefully tucked away where it could not be seen. He walked almost casually, as if he didn’t care who saw him, then picked up his speed a little. Just enough to seem natural. _Oh my…a poor man lying in the middle of the street. How unfortunate. He must have had an accident of some kind…and surely any concerned citizen would want to see if he is all right. Yes, of course they would._ The corpse lay on its back, sightless eyes already beginning to turn clouded as the dust of the street settled on them. A fly had already discovered this potential juicy breakfast waiting for it, and daintily crawled along Degardan’s cheek. The first rays of the sun made it glisten in a metallic green color that was actually quite pretty. 

Dekaras bent over the dead man, calmly searching through his pockets. There was no guarantee he would find anything useful of course, but it was worth a shot. There was always the chance that the Red Wizard carried some orders from his superiors, and anything that might concern Edwin would be of great value. Sadly, there were no letters or any documents to be found. A couple of spell scrolls though…and at least one of those was something Edwin should very much appreciate. _If I dare let him have it. But he has learnt a lot…and at least it is not a demon summoning scroll._ He was almost ready to leave the body when he noticed something else. Something hanging on a thin leather cord around the wizard’s neck. Dekaras cut the cord, then held the item up as he watched it curiously. He didn’t have much time to do so – he should leave now, before any guards turned up. All the same, there was something about this thing…something…familiar? 

It looked much like a net of carefully laced together twigs, and there was a small but glittering piece of quartz caught in the middle. So simple looking…but not simple. No, not simple at all. There was great magical power here, he could sense that much even by touching it. Why though, was there this feeling of familiarity? Where could he possibly have seen such a thing before? 

Then, it came back to him, came back across the years, across the many miles. He was a small boy, sitting before a fire…holding a thing just as this one gently between his fingers. There were other children there as well, but the others were all girls. They were sometimes taught the same things that he was, but not always, and this was one of those cases. _Crafting is for boys._ He could still remember the cool voice of the instructor telling them that. _Though she never told us why. No, of course not. The bit about being a thrall, coped up in a cave for a few centuries, making magical items for the Wychlaran was very carefully left out. And of course, the girls didn’t need to know how to make things. That would have been beneath their dignity no doubt, the future Witches of Rasheman. They only needed to learn how to use them._

All the same, he had been made to study a talisman much like this one and had learnt of its properties. He had never seen one since, but he remembered, oh yes. Where had Degardan come across it? The Wychlaran would never let a thing like this get into the hands of the Red Wizards if they could help it. Degardan had probably taken it off the corpse of one of them, just as it had been taken off his own corpse now. It didn’t matter. What did matter was that although he no longer had access to the magic needed to craft such a thing, he still knew what it was, and knew how it might be used. 

These thoughts passed in just a few seconds, and then the assassin very carefully tucked the amulet into one of his pockets, one where there should be little to no risk of it getting harmed. He didn’t want that to happen. It was far too valuable for that. Stepping away from the corpse, he turned into an intersecting alley, and hurried away, his mind bent on one thing and one thing alone. 

_Time to get this business sorted out, once and for all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like creepypasta, in case you didn't guess from this chapter. :)


	103. Portal and Prison

**Cards Reshuffled 103 – Portal and Prison**

_It’s really strange, the way traveling works out sometimes. You set out for a particular destination, with some kind of purpose. But then something will happen to sidetrack you, and before you know it a simple trip to the market to buy eggs may turn into a journey to a Dark Lord’s Fortress. Or, for that matter, a mission to make your own lovable Dark Lord stop wearing gaudy jewelry that doesn’t really suit him. You just never know._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Zaerini stared at the swirling vortex in front of her, wondering how things could have gone so badly wrong so very quickly. Once the business with Sir William had been sorted out, Keldorn had announced his intention to go home and have a long conversation with his wife. That was something she certainly thought would be best handled in private, but she had been happy to hear him say that she and her friends would be welcome to visit soon, and that he still wanted them to have that dinner party. She realized that she had come to quite like the old paladin, and she hoped that Lady Maria and he would be able to repair their marriage. _Don’t want to think too much about losing somebody I love that much…if I lost my Dread Wizard, that would be…unbearable._

With Keldorn gone, it had seemed like a good idea to go and hand back both Haer’Dalis and that odd gem that Mekrath had stolen to Raelis Shai and get the promised reward. They had only made a short detour to the Adventurer’s Mart, where Jaheira had purchased a nice scimitar to replace her broken staff. And Raelis had been pleased, very much so, and she’d proceeded to draw up the contract that would turn the theatre over to Rini. Only, before she turned it over, she had said she wanted to test the gem to make sure it worked. _And I fell for it. Stupid, stupid me._ Well, to be honest, Raelis hadn’t actually tried to trick her. Probably. Yes, she hadn’t mentioned before that the gem was actually a Portal Stone that could open rifts between different Planes, and that she, Haer’Dalis and the others were actually on the run from some dangerous planar being who had disapproved of being heavily satirized in their play. But Raelis surely couldn’t have predicted that said planar being’s bounty hunters would catch up with her just before she was about to turn over that contract, snatching both her and the rest of the troupe, and pulling them away from the Five Flagons Theatre and into Bhaal knew where. Surely not. Surely it was possible to remain calm and controlled in the face of all this annoyance. 

“Aaaaarrrrgghhhh!” the redhead screamed at the top of her voice. She had a sneaking suspicion that her eyes were probably glowing again, and right now she didn’t care much. “Bloody…flaming… _stupid_ procrastinating tieflings…can’t even sign a simple contract before getting themselves kidnapped!” She kicked an artificial tree over, hard enough that it cracked in the middle. 

_You know kitten, that isn’t very dignified_ , Softpaws remarked. The cat was lying on top of a wooden throne that had been painted gold and decorated with fake gems, and she looked completely at home there. 

_Don’t care – I’m angry! I really wanted this place, and now…no go. And it’s worse than that._

“What is the problem?” Edwina asked. “I know you wanted a theatre, but really, this shoddy little place is not what you deserve.” The wizard came up behind her, wrapping her arms around her waist and leaning her chin against her shoulder in a way that made Rini feel suddenly very warm and very, very eager for privacy. “Once we have the time…and once my little difficulties in Thay are sorted out…then I will make certain that you have the best theatre that money can buy.”

“You don’t understand,” Rini said, sighing a little. “I…wanted to have something of my own. Your family is really wealthy, I don’t want them to think that I’m just…just some gold digger out to leech off of you.” 

“Inconceivable,” Edwina said, tightening her grip a little, and planting a few light kisses on the tip of her right ear, and then her neck. “Yes, it is true that Mother is very wary of that sort of thing, but you met Teacher Dekaras already, and he likes you, I could tell. If necessary, he’ll be able to convince her of what I already know.”

“What?”

“That you are the most perfect woman I could ever dream of, the only woman worthy of my own magnificence that I have ever been fortunate enough to come across, and that you are equally delectable when angry, because you do this amazing little thing when you wrinkle up your pretty nose in a way that is…” 

Here Edwina was forced to break off, since Zaerini had twisted around in her arms, kissing her thoroughly. “Funny thing,” the half-elf murmured once she was able to breathe again. “Don’t feel all that angry anymore.” 

“Ah…good. (Yes, my presence should make her weak kneed…that is only fair, considering what she does to me.) Then let us leave this place and say good riddance to that annoying tiefling.” 

“Afraid that’s not possible,” Rini said. “I need to go after him. That’s why I was so mad.” 

The half-elf was startled by somebody taking hold of her elbow, and as she turned around, she found herself looking into Jaheira’s steady green eyes. “Child,” the druid said, “I am sure that rescuing the tiefling would be a good deed, annoying as he is, but ‘need to’?”

“It’s hard to explain,” Zaerini said. “I like him well enough and all that, but it’s not that I think I exactly owe him – I hardly know him, and I doubt he’d leap to rescue _me_. But I need to, all the same. I’m not sure why, but my latest Reading told me so. Wherever he’s been taken, I need to follow. I think there’s something really important that I must do there. I’m sorry I can’t be clearer about it, it sounds nutty, I know.” 

“Not so,” Jaheira said, frowning a little. “These foretellings of yours may be vague at times, but from what I understand of what you have said before they tend to make good sense eventually. If you think we must go into that portal, then I will follow you. However, we should prepare ourselves accordingly. There is no telling what we might encounter on the other side.” 

“Oh, glorious day!” Minsc exclaimed. He wrapped Rini up in his huge arms, spinning her around and around. This wouldn’t have been so surprising in itself, but he managed to pick Edwina up at the same time and give her the exact same treatment. The wizard’s eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets, and she had a horrified expression on her face. Rini couldn’t blame her – after all, she was currently in a delicate state. “Minsc and his Witch will now do heroic deeds on other worlds as well as this one and be known as Mighty Heroes in them all! And the Evil Girl Wizard will come too – she isn’t quite a Hero yet, but she did splatter the Evil Eyeball that wanted to squish Minsc’s Witch, and that was very good practice for true hamster flavored Goodness!” 

“Uh…whatever you say Minsc,” Rini said. Edwina was groaning inaudibly, and her face had gone a worrying pale green. “I think you’d better put us down now, before ‘Dwina does some more heroic splattering all over us.” Once they were both back on the ground, she gently guided her discomforted lover to sit down on the stage, then gave her as soothing a backrub as she could.” 

“Don’t want…be female…” Edwina groaned. “Don’t want to! Never thought…could be this bad.” 

“I’m sorry…it will get better as you get used to it.” Then Rini hastily corrected herself. “Not that you’ll _need_ to get used to it, because I’m sure we’ll have you back to normal soon. You don’t have to come along through the portal though – not if you’re not well enough.”

“No! If you’re going…I’m going. (I won’t let her wander off on her own into certain danger – one to worry about is bad enough.)” 

“All right then. But we’ll give you a little while to get your breath at least. We’ll need some time to prepare anyway. Like Jaheira said, we’ll want as many protective spells as possible before we go through that portal.” 

“That’s just what my dear sweet cousin, Genevieve Jansen used to say,” Jan remarked with a sad little sigh. “Poor Vivi…she was a very skilled planar traveler, you see. It was her whole life; she was so good that she’d pop over to the Plane of Fire for the sole purpose of grilling a few turnips. True, she could be a bit of a scatterbrain, and far too trusting. I remember she once got lost in the Abyss for two weeks after buying a so-called ‘complete map’ of the place from this demon called ‘Honest Stan’.”

“Wow…” Rini said. “How did she get out?”

“That was the funny thing – we found her sleeping on the doorstep one morning, with a sulphur smelling note attached to her clothes that read ‘We can’t take it anymore, please take her back!’ Vivi was a very sweet girl, as good-natured a gnome as you’ll ever meet, but I must admit that she could be a bit garrulous and impulsive at times, lacking the usual quiet diplomacy of a true Jansen.” 

“I can’t even imagine what she must have been like,” Anomen murmured. 

“You said ‘was’,” Zaerini said. “Is she dead then?” 

“Nobody really knows,” Jan said. “She disappeared again a couple of years ago, after a visit with a fortune teller who told her she’d find her True Love in another plane. I’m afraid she was probably scammed again.” He sighed again. “I hope she’s all right, I always liked her.”

“Well, I hope we’ll have better luck than she did, and be able to find our way back here,” Rini said. “Oh well…nothing for it. Let’s get ready.” The spell casting was soon well under way, and once it was finished the adventurers were all glowing brightly with so much protective magic that there were practically sparks leaping from their fingertips. Zaerini took a deep breath, then headed for the portal. Just as she took the final step through, she could hear Jan behind her. 

“You know, Cousin Vivi said that it isn’t possible to breathe the air in all the planes…”

_Well, thanks for that bit of input! I hope my head won’t implode when I get through._

_The risk of that is larger if you remain_ , Softpaws said. The cat was curled up tightly in the half-elf’s arms, and her eyes were closed. I know mine will if I’m forced to listen to another story…

Then the magic told hold of Zaerini, sweeping her along in a glittering whirlpool of spinning colors, and when the magic faded, she found herself in a very odd place indeed, though fortunately one with breathable air. The floor was a pale and shiny pink – it would probably have appealed to Imoen, and it was a bit slippery. The walls were the same uniform pink, and there was pink light coming from them, contributing to the slightly nauseating effect. On the floor there was a pulsating pink valve, that reminded the half-elf uncomfortably of the beholder caves she had only recently left. No beholders in sight here though, that was a relief. There was still company however, and not of a pleasant kind. 

Two very large Yuan-Ti stood near one end of the room, and one of them, a reddish-skinned warrior with flat yellow eyes and a rapidly flickering tongue was the bounty hunter who had abducted Haer’Dalis and the other actors. There were other people as well – a couple of humans, a halfling, and a gnome. The gnome was female, with a frizzy mass of whitish-blonde hair that had been tied into a careless ponytail. She was tall for a gnome, almost the size of a short human woman, and the fact that her nose was smaller than normal for a gnome and no longer than her thumb contributed to the impression. She had clear blue eyes, sparkling with enthusiasm and good humor, and she was gesticulating in an animated way. The sky-blue mage robe she was wearing, which was covered with sparkling silver stars and had a picture of a purple dragon on the breast pocket, was a bit torn at the cuffs and hem, as if it had seen a lot of wear and tear. 

“Well, this is extraordinarily interesting!” the gnome said, practically bubbling with enthusiasm. “I don’t think I’ve ever been a slave before, not too many people want to keep gnome slaves, though I’m not sure why…why do you think that is? Anyway, these collars are something else! You don’t mind that I keep the one you gave me, do you? I’d like to study it for a bit, I’m sure I could come up with all sorts of new and fascinating ways of using it that could improve the lives of people everywhere…”

The Yuan-Ti took a deep breath, and when he spoke, he was snarling. “Keep it? KEEP IT?! You were supposed to keep it on, slave! How did you get it off?”

“Oh, I’m not sure…I think I maybe broke it a teeny tiny little bit. Sorry, I do so like to tinker with things. Are those your real teeth? I once thought about becoming a dentist, but I’m a bit too squeamish about hurting people so it didn’t work out…and then I collected teeth for a while, I’ve still got a bag of them somewhere around here, I was meaning to make a career out of making dentures for toothless demons, you wouldn’t believe how embarrassing that is for a demon. Want to donate some?”

“NO! And as for you, slave, I will…”

At that moment, the gnome’s blue eyes lit up, and she smiled a delighted smile as she spotted Zaerini and her friends who had come through the portal by now. “Well, gosh and golly!” she exclaimed. “Jan Jansen! Fancy meeting you here!” 

Behind her, Rini could hear Jan inhale violently, and when he spoke he sounded incredulous. “Cousin Vivi! It’s really you!” 

_Wow…I guess sometimes his stories really are literally true._

Zaerini didn’t hesitate to let a fire arrow fly full in the face of the Yuan-Ti before her, and she had barely finished intoning the words of the spell before she started the next one. If it worked the way she hoped it would, it should turn the tide of the battle in her favor. Next to her, she was barely aware of Jaheira finishing a spell of her own. The druid’s skin instantly hardened, taking on the dull gray color of strong iron, and then Jaheira launched herself into the battle, her scimitar moving so swiftly that it was almost a blur. 

Minsc was roaring with berserker fury, and this was accompanied by Lilarcor’s scream of ‘Insides, I wanna see your INSIDES!” The Yuan-Ti warrior besieged by the ranger didn’t exactly change his expression, since after all he had the face of a snake. Still, the way he dropped his sword and ran provided a hint that he was perhaps just a little unnerved. Not that it availed him much. “AND STRRRRRRIKE!” Lilarcor yelled, and the Yuan-Ti’s head was rolling across the smooth pink floor, its yellow eyes wide and staring. 

Now she had finished the spell, and there was a subtle twisting feel to the air, as luck and fate were…bent. She hoped it would do some good. A sudden ripping sound directly behind her made her startle and leap aside, narrowly avoiding the sharp dagger that had been aiming for her kidneys. The halfling rogue who wielded it had almost managed to sneak up on her when his trousers suddenly ripped in the back. Not only that, but they then dropped down, revealing a set of ghastly underpants covered with pictures of naked female orcs. Very fat naked female orcs. 

_I think I may go blind from that one_ , Rini thought. She watched with satisfaction as the halfling proceeded to drip over the pants hanging around his ankles and fall helplessly. The crunching sound as he hit the floor hinted at a broken jaw. Not that there was much time for him to examine it closely – a thin green ray of light shot out from Edwina’s hand, and after it hit him only a small pile of dust remained on the floor, topped by a pair of nice boots and what seemed to be an amulet of some kind. 

Meanwhile, Minsc had finished off another opponent, and joined Anomen and Jaheira in battling the remaining Yuan-Ti mage. It took some time, since the mage kept desperately throwing up spell protections, but with the united efforts of Edwina and Zaerini they fell, one by one, and eventually the mage fell as well. 

Jan had paused to get his cousin into cover behind the pulsating pink valve on the floor, a task that was made more difficult by the fact that Vivi didn’t want to be kept safe at all, and kept popping her head back up. Rini caught a glimpse of white sparks flashing between Jan’s fingers, and just had time to dodge the arctic wind that swept forth. The last slaver was less lucky though, and was frozen in his tracks, his face contorted into a silent scream. 

“Oh, nice one!” Vivi cheerfully said. She poked the unfortunate slaver in the midriff, and the man simply fell to pieces, chunks of frozen flesh tinkling to the floor with a sound like falling ice cubes. Then she pounded Jan on the back. “It’s great to see you again, cousin! I have so many stories to tell you…you wouldn’t believe the things I’ve seen!”

“Of course I would, Vivi,” Jan said, grinning at her. “Jansens are always truthful and trustworthy, aren’t they?” 

At that, both gnomes looked solemnly at each other for a few seconds, and then started laughing like lunatics. “Another Jansen…” Anomen murmured, his voice dark with despair. “Helm preserve us…it’s another Jansen.” 

Once cursory introductions had been performed, Jan asked his cousin how she had wound up here, and exactly where ‘here’ was. “Bit of a long story,” Vivi said. “Am still searching for my One True Love, actually.” She gave the scattered corpses on the floor a worried look. “Oh dear…you don’t suppose it was one of them, do you? No, probably not…the fortune teller told me he’d be a nice man, and none of them were very nice. You should have seen the way that halfling would pick his nose…I’d swear there were living things in there.”

“Vivi…”

“Oh yes, the story! I was in this bar in Sigil, and I was building what was supposed to be a never-emptying beer barrel.” She paused as if that somehow explained something.

“Yes?” Jan encouragingly asked. 

“It was a lot of fun, really…right up until the point when I got arrested.” 

“Arrested?” Zaerini asked. “What for?”

“Well, turns out the never-emptying beer barrel never got empty because it opened little portals into beer barrels in competing bars all over the city. The other bartenders were a bit miffed about that, I’m afraid.” Vivi sighed briefly, but her sunny smile returned almost at once. “Oh well, it was an educational experience I’m sure. I’ve never been in this prison before, it’s supposedly the most secure one in all the planes, I always wanted to come here.” 

“Well, I did not!” Edwina said. “How can we get out of here? (Earplugs…I need earplugs. Or even better, a large mallet.)” 

“Well, it will be a mite tricky to get out,” Vivi said. “I told you, this is the Interplanar Prison. It was built to keep all the worst inter-planar prisoners, the kind who demolish planets simply to make a point, if you see what I mean. Of course, these days it mostly contains people who were unlucky enough to get on the wrong side of the wrong person.”

“Such as Haer’Dalis and the other actors,” Zaerini said. “Say, I don’t suppose you’ve seen them around, by any chance?” She described the acting troupe and was pleasantly surprised when Vivi immediately nodded. 

“Oh, I’ve seen them! After I got out of my collar, but before those goons caught up with me. They’re in a cell off somewhere in that direction.” She pointed a little vaguely. “I’d not recommend going that way though, it’s dangerous. Lots of guards and traps.” Her eyes were practically sparkling by now. “But I happen to know of another way…a more secret way. I could show you, if you like.”

“Oh, that’s very reassuring, wandering around a prison crowded with guards and monsters, following the whims of a mad gnome!” Edwina said. “Undoubtedly, she will lead us directly into the belly of some enormous spider from another universe, and then where will we be? (True, there wasn’t one down in the sewers, and I had half expected that…but it will happen. Sooner or later, it will.)”

“Inside the spider, I would guess,” Rini said, grinning at her lover. “Lighten up, ‘Dwina. She’s a prisoner here, she’s got no reason to harm us, especially since she can get out if we escape.” She turned back to Vivi. “What was that you said about your collar?”

“This one,” the gnome said, holding up a collar made from twisted metal coils. “They use them to control their prisoners, that way they don’t need to keep all of them inside the holding cells and can put them to work instead.” She beamed happily. “Oh, that gives me the most wonderful idea! If we could deactivate all the collars, the Warden would be really upset, and it would be far easier for you to fight him.” 

“The Warden?”

“The big and scary guy who runs this place,” Vivi said. “I never saw him myself, but I hear he’s really dangerous.” 

“So, what else is new…” Jaheira murmured. “Well, freeing the unjustly imprisoned is certainly a worthy cause, and it would seem it can help us too. I am all for it.” 

“Agreed,” Zaerini said. “Let’s do it…but I want to check a couple of things first.” She bent over the pile of dust that had been the halfling thief, examining what little remained of his possessions. “Aha! Thought so!” Triumphantly she held aloft the boots, a nice pair made from soft black leather. “I thought I recognized the magic about these…remember we found a pair of these before, ‘Dwina? Back in the Cloakwood Forest? Look to be exactly my size too…anybody mind if I keep them?” When she heard no protest forthcoming, she hastened to pull the boots on, then turned her attention to the other object lying in the dust. It was an amulet, a silver chain decorated with a glittering silver star. “Now, I wonder what this does…hang on, I’ll just do a brief scrying.” Concentrating, she focused on the thing, holding it carefully in the palm of her hand, and a vision appeared. She could see herself wearing the amulet, and then…disappearing? No, not disappearing. She was still there, but unsubstantial. Her image in the vision shifted and blurred and waved its hand straight through a wall. “Hmmm…” She said once she was done. “It’s not a spell of invisibility…I think it makes you ethereal though. Must have been useful for that thief. But I think I want to examine it some more before anybody tries using it, I think there may be more to it than I can make out at the moment.” 

“Ethereal?” Edwina said, looking interested. “Now that could certainly come in handy, I would agree. And it reminds me of something…” She frowned a little, tapping a neatly manicured nail against her lower lip. “Something about spell-casting while ethereal…well, it will come to me shortly, I am certain. My immensely superior and highly trained mind holds a vast supply of arcane lore, but it will come to me.” 

“In the meantime,” Anomen said, “perhaps we might press on. We do not know how many guards linger about this place, and it seems that a swift strike into the heart of our enemy’s power is what will most avail us. In that way, we may cripple him before he can array his full forces against us.” 

“Yes, but we still should proceed with some caution,” Jaheira added. “We do not want to rush into an ambush after all.” 

“Minsc and Boo will lead the way!” Minsc volunteered. “We will stand tall and strong, plunging headfirst into the Tunnels of Pink Evil!” 

“Er…thanks,” Rini said. “But maybe you should…” 

Too late. Minsc had already charged ahead, his large feet pounding against the floor. “Hellooooo Eeeeevil!” he shouted. “Anybody home?”

“I said proceed with caution,” Jaheira said between clenched teeth. “You all heard me say that, did you not?” 

“Yep,” Rini said, patting her friend solicitously on the shoulder. “I heard you. But…well…Minsc is Minsc. Let’s catch up with him, all right?” She hurried off down the corridor, eager to reach her large ranger friend before something bad could happen to him. In fact, she was in such a hurry that she when she noticed that the surface of the floor was shifting beneath her, it was already too late. She looked down, to see that the floor wasn’t exactly solid anymore. One of the pulsating valves was opening right beneath her, opening like a hungry mouth. “Oh crap…” she just had time to say. Then the floor disappeared beneath her, and she was plunging down a narrow and steep pink chute, sliding faster and faster until it almost took her breath away. 

Actually, the ride was pretty fun, Zaerini decided, as long as she didn’t think too hard about where she might wind up. _Such as in the middle of empty space…or on top of a dragon…or inside a dragon. But otherwise, really fun!_ The speed was breathtaking, and fortunately the surface of the chute was so slick that there was only minimal friction, not enough to scrape her skin. It felt almost like she imagined flying, and she couldn’t help giggling a little. _Maybe we could dump Aerie down one of these…_

And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the ride ended. The redhead shot out of the chute like a pea from a peashooter, skidded across yet another slippery floor, and thudded into a rounded and fortunately soft and giving wall, with a muffled ‘oompf!’. Still dizzy, she struggled to get to her feet, pushing her red hair out of her eyes at the same time as she attempted to make sense of where she had landed. _At least I’m not inside a dragon. Or in empty space. Or…oh. Uh oh._

The small, round cell in which she found herself had no doors. It also had no windows. What it did have was occupants. Five of them, in fact. Five large, and hairy ones. The creatures that shared this small and enclosed space with her stood on two legs, but she didn’t doubt that they might revert to four if they should happen to feel like it. They were bulky and muscular, and covered with thick hair ranging from brown, over gray to black. _My, what big ears they have._ Large, hairy, pointed ears. _And big eyes too._ Big, feral, glittering yellow eyes, all five pairs of them fixed intently upon her. _And…and really big teeth._ Big, yellowish, very sharp and very pointy teeth, bared in five surprised and angry snarls. 

“Er…hi there,” Zaerini said, a somewhat frozen smile on her lips as she tried to think about what to do next. “Er…so you’re werewolves, are you? Nice to meet you.” _Yeah. Really, really big teeth._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cousin Vivi is a character created for a very specific purpose, but I've grown quite fond of her for her own sake.


	104. Let Sleeping Demons Lie

**Cards Reshuffled 104 – Let Sleeping Demons Lie**

_In adventuring, you will occasionally come across hideous monsters of one kind or another. Dragons, beholders, mindflayers, demons or vampires, they all have one thing in common. The bigger the beast, the better the booty – assuming you can get it._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Minsc hadn’t gone far before he came across some strange people. A swordsman, an archer, and a female mage, all of them wearing the same funny collars that Jan’s little cousin had worn. “Please…no…” the mage groaned. “The collars…we can’t help ourselves!” 

“We…attack!” said the swordsman. “Attack!” And he advanced, his face set in a grim and mask-like expression shared by his two companions. The archer fired, and though he didn’t manage to fatally wound Minsc, the big ranger’s neck was grazed. The pain wasn’t too bad, but it did make him feel hot all over, as he usually did before going berserk.” 

“Ah! Such a little sting will not stop a warrior of mighty Rasheman!” he cried out. “Time for Evil to become a pincushion, and Minsc has a very big pin!” Lilarcor practically leapt into his hand, chortling gleefully at the prospect of spilling more blood. But then…

“Boo?” Minsc said, pausing. “Boo, what was that? They are not Evil?” Minsc hesitated. The three people in front of him were attacking him…but on the other hand Boo said they were not Evil. There was no question of not trusting Boo of course, but he still needed to defend himself. Minsc found himself wishing for his Witch. Little Rini was really clever, she could think and talk very fast, so fast it almost made Minsc’s head spin sometimes, and she would know what to do, he was sure. Where was she?

Then there was screaming behind him, and he heard his other heroic friends shouting the name of his Witch, sounding very upset. His Witch was in danger! He must go to her, at once! Minsc swung Lilarcor as hard as he knew how, but he made sure to turn the sword, and only the flat of it struck the approaching swordsman across the cheek, sending him unconscious to the floor. With a speed that was surprising in such a big man, the ranger spun around, and the archer joined his friend. Now there was only the mage left…and that was worse. She was a girl mage, and that was almost like a Witch…and you were not supposed to hit Witches. She wasn’t from Rasheman of course, so she wasn’t exactly a Witch…but his Little Rini wasn’t from Rasheman either, and she was a Witch, as far as Minsc was concerned. 

In the end, that settled that. If there were two Witches fighting, you fought for your own Witch. His Witch was in danger, and he had to save her, and that meant he had to fight this other Witch. “Minsc is sorry,” the big man apologetically said, and he hit her as gently as he possibly could. The poor woman’s eyes rolled up in their sockets, and she made no move to get up again. “Maybe one of Minsc’s friends can make it all feel better, later.” Then he turned and ran back through the tunnel, having first made sure that Boo was safe and secure on his shoulder. As always, the hamster’s presence made him feel calmer…steadier. 

When he turned a corner, Minsc found his friends clustered around a large pink valve in the floor. The thing was tightly closed, despite Anomen’s and Jaheira’s best efforts to pry it open, and despite the Evil Girl Wizard speaking a steady stream of very naughty words to it. Softpaws was prowling back and forth close to the valve, yowling loudly, and Edwina’s voice was also very loud, so loud it made Minsc wince, and he covered Boo’s sensitive ears protectively with his hand. 

“Why are you being so slow? We have to get her out of there, any unspeakable thing could be happening to her as we speak!)

“You might try helping rather than complaining,” Jaheira pointedly remarked, vainly trying to insert her scimitar inside the valve. “Talking will do her no good. Do you have a spell available for opening things? No? Then be still, breathe deeply, and cease the hysterics.” 

For a moment the wizard’s dark eyes flashed with anger, but then her jaw set. “I will have her out of there,” she said in a low and dangerous voice. “And if the builders of this pink monstrosity of a prison think to stand in my way, they will come to regret it. (And if they have hurt her in any way, I will provide them with a fate that could make a stone weep.)” 

Minsc frowned. He thought the Evil Girl Wizard had quite the right idea about this…but there was something about how she said it. How she looked…how she sounded, maybe? He wasn’t sure what it was, but it was something he had seen elsewhere, though he wasn’t sure where. Well, there was no time to worry about it right now. His Witch was in trouble, that was what was important. “Little Rini has fallen down a hole and cannot get out?” he cried out. “Come Boo and let us fly without wings to the rescue of our Witch!” With that, he sprinted towards the valve. 

“No, wait!” Jaheira called out behind him. “We should go through together!” 

But it was too late. Minsc jumped into the air, his large feet landing squarely on the valve, and it gave way beneath him. He fell, but he didn’t fall alone, even if you didn’t count Boo. “Minsc is glad you wanted to come along and save little Rini!” he said, waving at Edwina who was sliding down the chute directly above him. The wizard’s hair was whipping about her face, and she had a stony look of determination on her face. 

“Well, obviously! If we want her to come out of this in one piece, there needs to be somebody of intelligence, skill and dignity along.”

“Minsc knows. It is a good thing we have Boo to help us, Boo is very wise.”

“I wasn’t talking about your ridiculous rodent! I was referring to myself.”

“Oh…Minsc did not guess that one. Also, Boo says to tell you that he thinks your legs look really pretty from this angle.” 

Edwina’s eyes bugged out a little at that, and she went very red in the face. “You keep your perverted hamster away from me and tell it that I will not suffer such an outrageous scrutiny! (Oh no…now I am talking with the beast…)” She managed to pull her robes closer about her, despite her speedy progress down the slide, which Minsc thought was a real pity. Then, however, he popped out of the chute, and there were soon other things to worry about. 

-*-

Werewolves. Werewolves were bad news, Zaerini decided. Strong, fast, able to swiftly regenerate any damage they sustained…and there were five of them. She wasn’t sure she could beat one in regular combat, much less five. Obviously, she’d have to try to stay alive in some other way. _The boots…I can use the boots!_ The magic of the boots flashed into action, and she leapt out of the way of one of the werewolves as it swiped after her with a heavy, black-clawed hand. Now she was much faster than they were, but the cell was small, and it still wasn’t easy to avoid them. _Maybe if I got smaller…_ With hardly a thought she melted into her alternate form, red fur sprouting over her suddenly much smaller body as the shapeshift took hold. As a cat, she was a much harder target to hit, and in this fashion she leapt and dodged, sometimes even darting between the hairy legs of the enraged werewolves. She wouldn’t be able to keep it up forever though. Already she could feel herself beginning to tire. And she had to be lucky all the time, whereas the werewolves only needed to get lucky once. _Five of them…that’s too many!_

But hold on…suppose there was…suppose there was one more? She acted upon impulse, not pausing to think, drawing deeply upon the power within. This would be tricky, and she didn’t think she could do it perfectly, but it might just be good enough. Once again, her body was reshaping itself, though this time it was more like she was weaving an illusion about herself, taking on the appearance if not the actual body of the creature she was imitating. More fur, thick and reddish-brown this time, and far coarser than that of the cat, yes, that was right. A long snout, and cruel fangs, pointy ears and a heavy, muscular body. She didn’t know if she looked like a perfect werewolf or not, but she hoped it was close enough to at least give them pause. And the smell, the smell had to be changed as well, but that was easy enough an illusion to create.

And miracle of miracles, the werewolves actually hesitated, looking at her in confusion. Whatever currently remained of their human minds, it didn’t seem enough to cope with this oddity. _Nice wolfies…good wolfies…stay…stay…just stay where you are until I can figure out how in the Abyss to get out of here…_ She edged away a little from the werewolves, her eyes darting nervously around the cell. The chute…but that was too steep, there was no way she’d be able to climb back up. No door, no. No window. But there was something, something on the floor that she hadn’t noticed before, only a faint outline. _Some sort of hatch? Waste disposal, perhaps? Can I get it open? And even more importantly, can I get it open without them ripping me to bloody shreds?_ Carefully, carefully she moved a little closer, trying to appear calm and relaxed. A couple of the werewolves were growling quietly, and their eyes never left her, but at least they didn’t pounce. _Just a little bit further…_

And then there was a tremendous din coming from above, bouncing, clanging, and somebody shouting. Rini looked up the chute above her, and her mind just had time to register two things, ‘nice legs’ and ‘big ranger’, both of them heading towards her very fast. She threw herself to the ground and rolled away, narrowly avoiding being impaled on Lilarcor as Minsc got to his feet. 

“Minsc’s Witch! Where is Minsc’s Witch? If you have eaten her, Minsc will cut you all open until she is free! And then I will stuff the Stones of Sinking deep into the Bellies of Evil, and GIVE YOU ALL THE TUMMY ACHE OF DOOM!”

Edwina didn’t look much calmer than the ranger did. Her dark hair was a tangled mess, her face was white with fury and she had little scarlet spots high on her cheeks. “Where is she? Where is she? Curse your hairy hides, where is she?” Her eyes were glittering with rage, and now her lips were forming words of magic, even as a blindingly white ball of light was forming between her swiftly moving fingers. 

“’Dwina, look out! It’s me!” She shouted out the words, even as she shifted back into her normal form, and Edwina’s hands jerked just a little bit to the right, excluding her from the spell. Jagged bolts of lightning shot out from the wizard’s splayed fingers, tearing into the group of werewolves, and the air was suddenly filled with the stench of burning hair. The beasts howled with pain and anger, and charged towards this new intruder, but Minsc was there to meet them. 

“BAD DOGS! YOU WILL NOT HARM MINSCS WITCHES, AND IF YOU TRY MINSC WILL SMACK YOUR NOSES!” He then proceeded to do just that, and more, completely ignoring the sharp claws and teeth threatening from all sides. One of the werewolves yelped loudly as Lilarcor embedded itself in his belly, and then slid off the sword, bleeding heavily. Edwina had followed up her initial attack with a seemingly ceaseless volley of Magic Missiles, Acid Arrows and Fire Arrows, pausing only to fling up a shielding spell to protect her against immediate attack. Zaerini followed her example, and then had another idea. _If they’re like dogs, then their hearing will be really good, far better than ours. And that means it can be hurt._ She took a deep breath, and then sang a single, sharp note, extending her reach as much as she could. Before her, the three werewolves who were still alive winced and then whined with sudden pain, large paws going up to cover their ears. With them incapacitated like that, the tide of the battle turned, and soon the werewolves were all lying on the floor, silent and still. 

“Am I ever happy to see you two,” Zaerini breathed. “I thought I was done for.” That was as far as she got before she was being tightly clutched in the arms of her lover. Edwina was holding on to her so hard it almost hurt, one long-fingered hand letting go now and then to lightly touch her hair, her face, her lips. 

“I thought they had killed you,” the wizard whispered. “When I didn’t see you, I became certain that they had.”

“Edwina…” 

“No, wait. Do not speak. Only let me look at you, my Hellkitten. I need to convince myself that you are actually here.” 

“Well,” Rini said, grinning faintly. “I think I know of a good way to help you do that.” She reached for her lover, letting her arms wind themselves around the wizard’s body, stroking the delicious curves of it, even as her lips met. It was good – very good, and even better for having so narrowly escaped death. She closed her eyes, letting herself drift in the sensation of feeling alive, safe and loved. When she eventually opened them again, she noticed Minsc beaming pleasantly at her. 

“Minsc is pleased to see Little Rini alive and well. But not surprised, she is a very clever Witch after all.” 

“Thanks, Minsc,” the half-elf said, with a smile, disentangling herself from Edwina long enough to give her big friend a warm hug. “Not clever enough to watch where I’m going though, or so it seems. Now, how about seeing if we can get ourselves out of here?” She looked up at the chute, concentrating for a moment. “And I think we’d better hurry. Softy tells me that Jaheira is getting pretty frantic up there.” 

-*-

“Blast it!” Jaheira cursed, and once again tried to break through the valve separating her from her young charge. She could not believe how quickly disaster had struck. First Zaerini had fallen into some trap, then Minsc and Edwina jumped after her, and now the valve was stuck again, keeping her from finding out what exactly had happened. “Now what do we do?” Then she had a sudden, desperate thought. “Jan, I am almost certainly going to regret asking you this, but do you have some sort of gadget that could get this thing open?” 

“Well now,” Jan said, giving the pulsating valve a considering look through his goggles. “It’s tricky you see, because it doesn’t have a lock as such. “But it might be that the Jan Jansen Patented Perfume might work.” He pulled out a round glass bottle from his backpack and shook it a little. Jaheira could see that the bottle contained a bright purple liquid. “Now this,” Jan said, “is the most efficient perfume you ever saw – I mean, smelled. You’ll forget all other smells after you’ve smelled this one, honestly.” 

“Really, cousin?” Vivi asked, looking interested. “What’s in it?” 

“Oh, a little bit of this, a little bit of that. It’s a secret recipe, but I will tell you that it contains onions, lemons, and Pure Essence of Virtue.” 

“Essence of Virtue?” Anomen asked, frowning. “What foolishness is that?”

“Ssssssh!” Jan said, holding up his hand before his mouth as he gave the priest a conspiratorial wink. “It’s really squeezed paladin liver, but don’t tell! Then everybody will muscle in on the deal, and there are only so many paladins available on the black market.” 

“WHAT?!”

“He is only teasing you, Anomen,” Jaheira wearily said. “Jan, get on with it if you really think this will work. Zaerini and the others could be in serious trouble.” She was marginally comforted as she looked at Softpaws though. Previously the cat had been frantic, but now she was sitting calmly enough by the valve, watching it as intently as if she were expecting a mouse to come out of it. 

“Sure thing, your worship,” Jan said with that infuriating grin of his. “Might I tempt you with another, specially designed scent later? Something woodsy, of course. Pine, wet leaves, dried moose pellets?” He aimed the nozzle at the valve, and then squeezed the bulb connected to it. Immediately the air was filled with a noxious, acrid stench that made Jaheira’s eyes tear, and made her feel as if her ears were about to start smoking at any moment. “Oooops…” Jan said. “Should maybe have used blackguards instead…” 

At least it seemed that the valve liked the smell no more than Jaheira did. It shivered like jelly, and it practically sprang open, then wilted like a dying flower. It was actually getting charred on the edges, Jaheira noticed, and she reminded herself not to ever try any perfume of the Jansen brand on herself. 

As soon as the worst fumes cleared, Anomen approached the now open valve. “My lady?” he shouted down it. “Are you all right?” 

After a few seconds, Zaerini’s voice sounded from below. _At least she is alive then._ “We’re all fine. I don’t think we can get out the way we got in though, unless one of you guys has a really long rope.” 

Anomen turned around, and Jaheira mutely shook her head. They did have some rope, but she could tell from the faint echoes of Zaerini’s voice that it could not possibly be long enough. 

“I think there might be another way though,” Zaerini called out once she’d been given this bit of news. “There’s a sort of hatch in the floor, and there’s another tunnel beneath it. I guess those werewolves would have been able to get out too, if their claws hadn’t been in the way of opening it. Poor things…I think they were kept in their animal shape against their will. Or maybe they just went nuts in captivity and couldn’t change back…” 

“Werewolves?” Jaheira asked in a flat voice. “What was that about werewolves?” 

“Never mind, they’re all gone now. It’s all fine. Jae? Why don’t you take the others and go on? If we’re lucky we’ll get out and join you later, or else you might find some way to get us out of here.” Jaheira didn’t much like the idea of separating, but she had to admit that the redhead had a point. The alternative would be to jump down the chute, and then they might all be stuck. 

“Very well,” she said. “Be careful then.” _A vain hope, I am sure._

-*-

As it turned out, the hatch from the werewolves’ cell led into a narrow tunnel, narrow enough that the werewolves would have had serious trouble getting through it. There was also a set of iron bars blocking it from the cell, but those didn’t stand a chance against Minsc’s determined assault. “Well, here goes nothing,” Zaerini said, and climbed into the tunnel. There was a ladder the first bit, and then the tunnel tapered out and the ground became flat. She wondered what it was meant for. It certainly couldn’t have been built as an escape route. _Maybe for feeding the prisoners? Don’t suppose it matters though, not as long as it gets us out of here._

The tunnel was long and dreary, and seemed never to end. Now and then, there were doors opening out from it, but there were always ominous noises behind them. Marching feet. Hissing and snarling. Nothing that sounded very encouraging. Eventually though, the three adventurers reached a door behind which all was silent. Carefully, very carefully, Rini pulled it open. Then she paused on the threshold, staring in disbelief at the room before her. 

The room was…pink. Very, extremely, nauseatingly pink. The random thought flitted through Zaerini’s head that Imoen would probably have adored it. There was a huge, pink, heart-shaped bed, large enough to hold about five humans comfortably. It had fluffy, hot pink, heart-shaped pillows on top of it, and a shiny pink satin bed sheet. On the pale pink floor, there was a painfully pink heart-shaped carpet. There was a large pink vanity, with a heart-shaped mirror, and there were a vast number of bottles and boxes spread out on top of it, as well as a powder-puff the size of Zaerini’s head. On the pink walls, there were pictures of pink hearts, pink roses and pink unicorns, and there was pink light streaming down from the pink and heart-shaped glass lamp that hung from the ceiling. 

“Just our luck that we do not have a healer along,” Edwina said in a faint voice. “I think I am about to eject my stomach through my nostrils. (Whoever lives here clearly knows no more about good taste than a blind troll would.)” 

Zaerini had moved into the room, watching the pink hideousness of it with disgust. “I don’t think I really want to meet whoever lives here,” she said. “Just look at this.” She pointed at the bookshelf, in which there were a number of pink-backed books. There was also a severed and shrunk human head, its mouth open in a silent scream. The head had been dyed pink, and somebody had pasted silver glitter all over it and then put a fat pink candle inside its mouth. 

Minsc cleared his throat. “Little Rini? Boo says that his keen hamster ears can hear heavy footsteps coming this way and that he can smell sulpu…solo…that yellow smelly stuff.” 

“Sulphur,” Edwina remarked in a flat voice. “While I am of course capable of laying waste to any imaginable, and quite a few unimaginable foes, a crafty ambush seems infinitely preferable to simply waiting around.” 

“Right,” Rini agreed, her eyes darting about the room. “Bed, right now!”

“Hellkitten, while I am of course obsessed, smitten and bewitched by your utterly enchanting physique, can we at least get the rodent-lover out of the room first? (Also, there is the small matter of my own current…embarrassing condition. How do women put up with this indignity on a regular basis?)”

”Not in the bed, silly! Under it, both of you!” Zaerini immediately followed her own example, scrambling as far under the huge bed as she could; only pausing to make certain that Minsc and the still grumbling Edwina followed her. 

For a minute or so there was silence, and then she could hear it. Footsteps, yes, heavy footsteps, but not the stomping of heavy boots or rasping of claws she had expected. Instead they went click-clack, click-clop, if in a very heavy and menacing manner. Then there was indeed the stench of sulphur stinging her nostrils, and then the sound of a door opening. The footsteps were coming closer, and then she could suddenly see a pair of legs right next to the bed. The legs were about as thick as a large tree-trunk and had really lumpy knees. They were also a bright red, and were covered with heavy scales, and their two large, red, scaly feet were wearing a pair of shockingly pink, high-heeled shoes. The feet were taking little happy dance steps now and then, making the floor tremble as they did so. Then there was a voice. A hideous, deep, rasping and gurgling voice, which sounded like somebody speaking through a bucket full of slime. 

“I feel pretty…oh so pretty…” There was some delighted cooing and what had to be described as giggling, though the bubbling bass voice made it sound more like a sewer about to erupt. “Oooooh yes, so very, very pretty…and what a beuooootiful gift my darling gave me! The prettiest bauble in all the planes, I’m sure! It’s ever so much bigger than the one Beboxrautroe had!” The sound of wet, sloppy kissing. “Oh Brad…”

_Right_ , Zaerini thought. _So, it’s a demon of some kind. And we’re under its bed. Now, I’m sure there has to be some way to take advantage of this situation…somehow. And without us winding up decorating that bookshelf, I hope._

There was a loud thump, and the bed sagged in the middle, making Rini wince as it pressed down on her back. She didn’t dare shift about too much either, she was afraid that might make the thing in the bed notice her. _Heh, that’s pretty funny…when we were little Immy would sometimes get afraid that there was a monster hiding under her bed, and now I’m hiding under the bed of a monster. Maybe next I’ll wind up eating a dragon or something._ She made a calming little motion with her hand towards Minsc and Edwina, willing them to stay put and not move. Finally, after what seemed to be ages, her ears were reached by the sound of deep, rumbling snores. Then, her field of vision was suddenly filled with a tantalizing sight. A large, red, scaly arm, the tips of its fingers ending in yellow and very sharp claws, each one large enough to tear a person’s heart out. The arm dangled lazily across the edge of the bed, swinging slowly back and forth like a pendulum, in time with the snores. That wasn’t what was so fascinating about it however. No, what had caught the redheaded half-elf’s interest was the thing that encircled one of the thick fingers, the thing that glittered as brightly as the sun. 

_That…that is the hugest diamond I ever saw! It’s just…just…whoa!_ The stone was indeed huge, almost the size of her fist, and exquisitely beautiful. The light was caught in it, fractured and splintered, sending dazzling rainbow sparkles all over the walls. Zaerini licked her lips, which suddenly felt very, very dry. She had to have that diamond, she simply had to. It would go a long way towards rescuing Imoen, but that wasn’t the sole reason. The glittering stone was pulling at her, drawing her in, and it was impossible to resist that pull. She needed to obey it. Hardly thinking about what she was doing, she extended her fingers towards that beautiful light, ignoring the muffled sound that she could hear Edwina making somewhere behind her. _I can do it…I can do it…I can do it…gotta have that diamond…_

Edwina was trying to pull her back by her legs now, which would have been very pleasurable under other circumstances, but currently was simply annoying. _Just wait until tonight ‘Dwina, and you can cling to my backside as much as you like…_ She finally managed to wriggle free and now her fingers were touching the smooth and shiny surface of the diamond, and the song of the stone was filling her soul. _Beautiful…so beautiful…_ Carefully, oh so carefully, she started sliding the ring down that gnarled red finger, hoping it wouldn’t get stuck. Almost there now…almost there…she had always enjoyed pick pocketing, and although she hadn’t gotten a chance to practice for some time, she still retained the skill. The ring would be free in a moment, she thought. _Come to me, beautiful. Just come to me…_

The ring came off, sliding neatly into the palm of her hand, and the demon never even so much as twitched. Zaerini grinned broadly, admiring her prize, and slithered out from under the bed, being very careful not to brush against the still dangling arm. Then came Edwina…then Minsc…and though she was a little worried about the large ranger’s ability to make it out without alerting the demon all went well. She started heading for the door, not the one they had entered through, but the one the demon had used. _There we are. All’s well that ends well. And now to find Jae and the others and…_

“THIEVES! THIEVES! DIRTY, ROTTEN, THIEVING THIEEEEEVES!” The blaring voice made her jump, and she almost dropped the ring, as her heart seemed to leap into her throat. The voice was coming from the severed head in the pink bookshelf. The thing was screaming at the top of what ought to have been its lungs, and its eyes were glaring accusingly at her. 

“Oh no…” Zaerini breathed. Behind her, there was a surprised snort, and then an angry roar. The sleeping demon had awakened.


	105. Love and War

**Cards Reshuffled 105 – Love and War**

_When you wander into another dimension, expect weirdness above everything else. Pretty much anything is possible out in the Planes, except possibly considerate and empathetic bureaucrats, genuinely eager to help people. You’re more likely to encounter a swarm of flying monkeys._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“You know, I don’t think he was my True Love either,” Vivi Jansen thoughtfully remarked as she examined the corpse of yet another Yuan Ti warrior. “Too scaly, and no sense of humor at all, and I bet he doesn’t like magical inventions…he sure didn’t seem to like my Modified Magic Missile.” 

“I should think not, cousin,” Jan replied with a crooked grin. “Seeing that it went straight up his nose, through his body and out his…” 

“Yes, that will do!” Jaheira cut in. One Jansen was bad. Two Jansens were…unspeakable. She didn’t want to think about three Jansens at all. “We really do not need to go into the disgusting details.” 

“My…er…Lady Vivi?” Anomen said, sounding a little awkward. “I fully sympathize with your worthy quest, seeking your One True Love as it were…but surely you did not expect him to be a Yuan Ti?” 

“Oh, you never know,” the gnome said, and winked at the priest. “He could be anything, really. All I know is that he’ll be really sweet, and funny, and gentle, and that he’ll love my inventions.” She gave the young Helmite a speculative look. “Say…do you love inventions?” 

“I…er…that is…” Anomen stuttered, his face turning a deep red. 

“No, he does not,” Jaheira said, her voice frosty. _If that poor boy cannot get out of an awkward situation by himself, I suppose I might as well do him a good turn._

“Awwww…” Vivi said. “What a shame, he’s kind of cute.” Then she shrugged, and the sunny grin was soon back in place. “Never mind, I’m sure I’ll meet my True Love sooner or later.” 

“I hope you do, ‘cos,” Jan said, looking a little wistful. “I sure hope you do.” 

“And when I do, I’ll finally get to try out the Giant Rotating Turnip I designed…I think that one’ll be a major hit with the gnome girls, don’t you agree, Jan?” 

“With or without leaves?” 

“Well, that would depend on…” 

”I think,” Jaheira said, “that we have spent quite enough time discussing gnomish mating habits. If you two do not mind, I would like to press on. We still have no idea where Zaerini and the others have got to, and then there is still the matter of those missing actors.” She gave Anomen a careful look. No, the blush hadn’t got worse. That almost certainly meant he hadn’t understood what the gnomes were prattling about. What she thought the gnomes were prattling about, rather. She really did not care to know the details, but at least she was a…no, had _been_ a married woman. Whereas the Helmite was… _A complete innocent in that way, I would wager, though he would of course never want to admit it. Probably he has consumed far too many foolish novels as well. Well, he will be far better off not learning the realities of life from a pair of insane gnomes._

Mercifully enough, the others followed her without further protest, though she thought she could spot an amused glitter in Softpaws’ green eyes. The black cat padded silently ahead, seeming to know where she was going, and Jaheira thought that was probably the case. She should be able to sense her Mistress through the familiar link as long as they were not too far apart, and at least be able to take them in the generally right direction. Then the cat suddenly stopped dead in her tracks, the fur on her back standing straight up, and she made a sound like a hissing kettle. A few seconds later she set off at a full run, fast enough that her paws barely seemed to touch the ground. _I should have known it was too much to hope for the child keeping out trouble for more than a few minutes_ , Jaheira thought. Then she joined in the chase, silently wishing for a way to keep the trouble-prone redhead on a leash from now on. 

-*-

The demon was huge, towering over the three adventurers who had emerged from under its bed. It was red, it was scaly, and it had curled horns like a ram and eyes like glowing furnaces. It had a pointed tail. It had a pair of tiny little black and bat-like wings, that couldn’t possibly carry its muscular body through the air but somehow still managed to keep it hovering in the air like a bumblebee. Finally, the demon was wearing a pair of disgustingly pink high heeled shoes, and an equally shocking pink and fluffy short skirt. “Beautiful…” Edwina murmured, staring in rapt attention at the roaring monstrosity. “Simply beautiful.” Then she frowned briefly at the tiny monkey sitting on her shoulder. “No Suffy, not the skirt. The demon itself, naturally. (Such magnificent fury…now, if only I could somehow manage to convince Teacher Dekaras that I am fully capable of summoning and controlling one…)” 

_Can’t blame him for being skeptical_ , Zaerini thought, and then she grabbed her lover by the arm. “Dread Wizard…let’s get our priorities straight here.” 

“Eh?” the wizard absentmindedly said, still admiring the demon. “What was that, Hellkitten?” 

“RUN!” 

-*- 

Jaheira hurried as fast as she could after the running cat, constantly cursing under her breath at all irresponsible girls, mayhem-attracting Red Wizards, and hamster-obsessed berserkers, and their potential for attracting trouble. Behind her, she could hear Anomen’s heavy footsteps, as well of the light pitter-patter of the smaller feet of the two gnomes. She wondered if Jan and his cousin would be able to keep up, but she really didn’t think she dared afford to wait. Now she could hear noises from somewhere up ahead, terrible snarling and growling noises as of some great beast. _I promised Gorion I would keep her alive. And by Silvanus, I will. Assuming I can keep from killing her myself._

There was a door opening up ahead, a tall arched portal of the same pink substance that made up everything in here. Jaheira slowed her steps a little – she didn’t want to rush into an ambush if it could be avoided. Anomen however, had no such qualms, and simply thundered straight past her, shouting something about ‘Helm’s Fury!’ _Another one. What is it about young people that make them so completely devoid of sense? And Zaerini has to be the worst of the lot. Unless it is Edwin._ She felt a sudden and intense pang of sympathy for the wizard’s foreboding assassin friend, whom she had previously viewed with intense distrust, as she imagined the nightmarish task of keeping Edwin alive until adult age. _Perhaps I should let him have my herbal tea recipe, the soothing one with willow bark against headaches. He can probably use it._

Right now, she had more important things to worry about though. The room behind the portal was large and round and seemed to be a kind of audience chamber. At least there was an ugly pink throne standing at one end, there were about two dozen collared slaves kneeling along the walls, and on the throne sat…a demon? _A very…small demon?_ The creature sitting on the throne was small, no larger than a human baby, with a ruddy face and a toothy grin. The face was mostly human, with wide and cheerful blue eyes, partially obscured by a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles. “Good Evening!” the thing said in a bright and cheerful voice, waving a chubby hand. “Welcome Lawbreakers one and all, your trial may now commence!” With that, iron bars shot out of the floor, neatly sealing the four adventurers inside a sturdy cage with an equally sturdy lock. 

“We are no lawbreakers, Spawn of Evil!” Anomen accused, shaking the bars with no result. “By the Gods, unless you let us out at once it shall be my pleasure deliver you back to whatever stinking hell it was that spawned you!” 

“No, no, no,” the creature said in a condescendingly cheerful voice, polishing his spectacles a little. “You have it all wrong, my good fellow. You see, I am Bradexzicmajris, but by all means, call me Brad. I am also the Warden of this Planar Prison, and my power is absolute here. And I am bored, there have been no trials in a while. You will entertain me with yours, and then you will entertain me with your punishment. And then, if you have been good sports, I might just let you die. So, now that that’s settled, let us begin!” 

-*-

There was a kind of fountain up ahead, Zaerini noticed as she ran, trying to keep her balance on the slippery pink floor. This task wasn’t made any easier by the thundering high-heeled footsteps of the terrible demon following her, that made the floor shake as if there was an earthquake going on. Briefly, she wondered if maybe she should give the pink-skirted monstrosity back her diamond ring. _Nah. I’m sure she’s mad enough already that it wouldn’t make much of a difference._ As she approached the fountain, she noticed that it wasn’t a fountain after all. She had been fooled by the silvery pole jutting out of it, which ended in what looked like a three-fingered claw. There was no water coming out of it though, and she had no idea what all the hundreds of glowing runes that encircled the pole were supposed to do. As fast as she could, she rounded the thing, trying to keep it between her and the roaring demon. Fortunately, the creature was too enraged to have considered using magic yet. _Or maybe it’s insane. Never would have thought a demon would dress up like that._

“Oooooh, demon fight!” Lilarcor giggled. “Cool, cool, COOL! GO ON, BABY, I’LL TICKLE YOUR TONSILS FOR YOU!” Minsc was actually trying his best to make this come about. The large berserker had planted himself with his back to the ‘fountain’, and now he aimed a terrible stroke at the red hand that was trying to rip his ribcage open. 

“YOU BROOOOKE MY CLAAAAWWWW!” The demon wailed. “I’LL BAKE YOUR BOLLOCKS FOR BREAKFAST FOR THAT ONE!” 

“Minsc will give Evil a second serving of GOODLY STEEL AND HAMSTER FURY! GO BOO!” 

The fluffy little hamster scampered across the floor, squeaking angrily as he dodged between the feet of the demon. Zaerini wasn’t sure if she was imagining it or not, but for a few seconds she thought she could hear something else beneath the squeak. Something akin to a deep growl. Then she totally forgot about that, as she saw the demon pale with horror, changing color from fiery red to rosy pink. 

“EEEEEEEEK!” the demon screamed. “It’s…it’s…oh BRAD! BRAD, SAVE ME!” 

A loud hum rose from the silvery pole, and Rini could feel her hair whipping about her head as if she was trapped in an invisible storm. There was a tingling sensation all over her body. Suddenly, she was feeling sluggish, her thoughts oddly fuzzy. 

“Watch out!” Edwina shouted, and she sounded distant, almost inaudible. “Domination spell…” 

Zaerini clung to the pole, her legs too wobbly for her to stand on her own. There was light coming out of the pole now, milky white light. _So…pretty…_

-*- 

“No, no, no!” said the creature who had identified himself as ‘Brad’, with a kind of fake joviality that made Jaheira long to stomp on him. “Not a demon, not at all. I am what you primitive Primes call a devil, from the Nine Hells. I wouldn’t have anything to do with those nasty sloppy things from the Abyss – except for my dear Janet of course.” 

“Janet?” Jaheira asked. 

“Janetyxxphris, actually.” 

“But I thought demons and devils were mortal enemies?” Vivi asked. The gnome didn’t sound afraid at all, simply curious. 

“We are! But you know what they say, all is fair in love and war. And so, it occurred to the two of us that this thing you Primes call ‘love’ must surely be an excellent weapon for the Blood War, if we can determine how it functions. So far, the research has been fruitless, but we will persevere, taking on the traditional roles of one of your ‘couples’ until we have what we want. And the one who first masters it will slay the other, winning this skirmish in the war. That would be me, by the way. In the meantime, I still have to do my duties as Warder. So, what to do with you lot…dismemberment? Strangling? Being slowly lowered into a tank of piranhas and sharks? No, that one never works…maybe simply boot you all into space? That would be entertaining, and I’ll give each one of you a special shiny and silvery outfit to wear for the execution, to keep things stylish. With very short skirts for the girls of course.” 

“I’ll show you ‘short skirts’,” Jaheira growled. “Do your worst, fiend, but cease the taunts!” 

“What if I throw in a pair of pretty silver boots? Nice and shiny!” 

”NO!” 

“Oh well,” the devil sighed. “Die plainly then, see if I care. Now, let me…” At this point, an amplified scream sounded from the walls, in a booming but somehow terrified voice. “BRAD! SAVE ME! INTRUDERS! INTRUDERS IN THE CONTROL ROOM!” 

The devil startled, and almost fell off his throne. “Janet? Oh dear…more intruders. No problem, an extra strong domination spell funneled through the Molecular Entrapment Device, some slave collars, and that will take care of that…” He raised his hands, and as he started chanting the air grew heavy around him. 

_Oh Silvanus…_ Jaheira thought. She had a very worrying idea about just who the intruders were. _Please, let them be all right._ However, as she watched the slaves swaying and groaning in time with the little devil’s casting, and felt the heavy oppressive spell pressing in on her mind, she wondered if any prayer would be enough. 

-*-

She didn’t have long, and Zaerini knew it. The Domination spell hadn’t entirely taken hold of her mind yet, but it was well on its way. _And it’s coming out of that pole thing…like…like it’s gas or something._ That gave her an idea that might not have made much sense to her if she had been entirely herself. If the spell was coming out of the pole, shouldn’t she also be able to block it that way? Of course she should. With a triumphant grin on her face, the half-elf rammed the huge diamond ring into the claws jutting out of the pole. It slotted neatly into place, as if it had been created for this very purpose. _But that’s just silly, right? I mean, who’d make a device for blocking his own spells, and then just leave it lying around?_

Whatever the case, something certainly seemed to be happening. The light coming out of the pole was fracturing, cascading across the walls in sparks of every color from red to purple, and the high-heeled demon was screaming. “Nooooo! My diamond! Brad! Braaaaaaad!” Then there was a loud BOOOOM, and the pole exploded. Rini found herself flying through the air, and then she made impact with something. Something hard. Hard and scaly. Smelling of sulphur. Moving and twisting around beneath her… The half-elf had her sword out in an instant, and then she stabbed down as hard as she could, inserting the blade into the thick neck, right at the point where it met the skull. The demon made a brief gurgling sound, and then was still, except for a few twitches of its tiny wings. 

“Pretty colors…” Rini muttered, still feeling a little dazed, but pleased with her luck. Her head was clearing up, so the spell seemed to have worn off, but her ears were still ringing a bit from the explosion. _Wait a moment. That’s not my ears…_

There were sounds coming from down the corridor to her left. Screams and shouts. Thuds and more screams. Zaerini turned her head, felt a brief pang of regret as she noticed that the large diamond had exploded along with the silver pole and the runic device attached to it, and then shrugged. Nothing to do about that now, and in the meantime… “Let’s go!” she called to her friends. “Think the others might need some help.” 

“Of course they do,” Edwina muttered. “They do not have the most skilled wizard in the world along to help them not to trip over their own feet, so naturally they will have managed to somehow foolishly endanger themselves.” 

“More Stinking Evil Demons to fight!” Minsc said. “Minsc and Boo are ready, though Boo really should get chunks out of his teeth first, so he’ll be all nice and neat again.” 

Rini turned around. The hamster was sitting on the floor, nibbling casually on the leg of the dead demon. Boo looked calmly back at her, an unfathomable expression in his glittering black eyes. “Right…” she said. “You do that on the way Minsc, all right? Now come on!”

-*-

The devil called ‘Brad’, suddenly jerked back with what looked to be pain. He put his tiny hands against his temples, wailing. “The Orb…the Orb of Domination! Oh no! How damnably inconvenient!” 

His voice wasn’t the only one in the chamber though. Jaheira heard a muffled fizzing sound, and as she turned her head she realized where it was coming from. The collars worn by the Warder’s thralls were throwing off bright blue sparks, and the slaves themselves suddenly looked far more intelligent and alert than before. One of them, a large and muscular fellow wearing only a very minute loincloth, suddenly tore his collar off and drew his sword. “By the Stygian Pits, fiend!” he cried. “The mighty Gruntir suffers the yoke of no man! Now your crimson life fluid shall stain the passions of my blade, and your puffy organs of sight shall be sucked deliciously from out your hallowed head!” 

Jaheira tried to wrap her head around this sentence. It didn’t work, no matter what. Possibly the poor man had become deranged by his captivity, but the important part was that he was free, along with all the other slaves, and that they were all throwing themselves at the Warder. And that meant that the devil was distracted enough for Jan to act without fear of discovery. The gnome was already working on the lock of the cage imprisoning them. Meanwhile, the druid ceased the opportunity to make her own contribution to the fight. This place was far removed from Nature as she knew it, and there were many of her spells that weren’t applicable here, but she was not powerless. Jaheira raised her hands, murmured a prayer to Silvanus, and then released the power granted to her. Outside the cage, there was a bright flash of fire, coalescing into a vaguely humanoid shape. The elemental roared and charged Brad the Warder. Given his infernal nature, it might not be able to harm him, but at least it could provide a distraction. 

Anomen followed her lead, and at his command a swirling vortex of living air appeared before the Warder, pummeling him with fists of wind. The devil hissed, striking at the aerial servant, but that gave the slaves a chance to attack him from behind. Some of them had fallen already, but the others were clearly determined to have their vengeance. They wouldn’t last for very much longer on their own though, and Jaheira was vastly relieved when she finally heard the ‘click’ as the lock opened. 

“Right!” Jan brightly said. “All nice and neat, much like when Cousin Calvin Jansen had that unfortunate encounter with a pedantic Duke of the Nine Hells…pity that ‘practical flatness’ isn’t a way of survival for gnomes.” 

“Never mind!” Anomen snapped, then yanked the cage door open. “The twin duties of opposing slavery and aiding our friends call us to battle, so cease your yammering in the name of Helm!” 

“Good idea,” Jaheira said, and squeezed past the Helmite. “Keep it in mind.” She had her scimitar out before she had even set foot on the slippery pink floor, and from then on, the battle was all she had the time to think of. 

-*-

The scene Zaerini came upon was one of utter mayhem. She narrowly dodged a fireball thrown at her from a tiny ugly creature that seemed far more dangerous than his looks implied. There were dead bodies strewn all over the floor, there was a large and nearly naked man trying to impale the hissing little monster, and there were her friends, in the middle of it all. 

A small platoon of goblins suddenly sprang into existence right before her, squealing and grunting they brandished their wicked little swords and axes, and then they all instantly disappeared again, banished by Edwina’s magic. Minsc, Jaheira and Anomen joined the battle, each one of them trying to penetrate the unnaturally hard skin of the monster menacing them. No longer did it resemble a twisted version of a baby – it had grown, taking on a muscular hunched appearance, with jutting horns and a brutal snout filled with fangs. Jan was firing crossbow bolts at it, but most of them seemed to bounce off the thick skin, and the gnome soon switched to magic, joining his cousin in her efforts to fire off as many Magic Missiles per minute as possible. Edwina was doing much the same, alternating with hissing Acid Arrows that dripped corrosive fluid all over the pink floor and was already starting to make it look puckered. 

As for Rini herself, she was concentrating on her bow, firing as many enchanted arrows as she could at the monster. They were doing better than Jan’s crossbow bolts, even if they still didn’t do quite as much damage as normal. _You’re wasting your time, kitten_ , Softpaws warned her from across the room. _Do what you do best, instead._

The half-elf frowned briefly, and then she had an idea. She wasn’t entirely sure it would work…it would test her capacity for creating illusions to the limit, and she doubted she could keep it up for long. Still, just a few seconds might be enough. And so, she summoned the power of her dead sire, wrapping it about herself like a protective cloak, spinning it into an image of the dead demon she had left behind, perfect in all details. She even managed to work in the pink skirt and shoes, and even if the illusion was a little thin in the edges, she didn’t think she’d need it for long. Then she raised the illusion of a large, red, clawed hand, and waved at ‘Brad’. “Yooo hooo!” she called out. 

‘Brad’ startled momentarily. “Dammit, Janet!” he snarled. “What are you doing just standing ab…” 

That was all it took. The devil was so distracted by the illusion that he completely failed to see Jaheira coming up behind him. The druid thrust her sword into his back with all her might, and then gave it a nasty twist. When she yanked it out again, all sorts of slimy and disgusting things came trailing out behind it. 

After that, it was all a matter of cleaning up. Mortally wounded as he was, the devil couldn’t defend himself for much longer, and soon he was lying on the ground, staring glassily and just as dead as ‘Janet’. “Tsk, tsk,” Jan said, shaking his head. “These devils and demons clearly have no idea how to properly court each other. No wonder they did so badly when they left out the most important part. “

“Which would be?” Rini asked. 

“Why, the exchanging of turnips, of course! Plump, juicy, delicious turnips.”

“Dancing is good too,” Vivi remarked with a broad grin. “Works up the appetite for the turnips, you might say.”

“True, cousin. Very true. Say, do you know this one? It’s really simple, it’s just a jump to the left, and then a step to the right…”

“That will do,” Jaheira said. “We have more important things to do than to devote ourselves to gnomish mating practices, thank you very much.” 

“But I hadn’t even got around to the pelvic thrusts yet! What about you, Red, you want to see don’t you?” 

“Aim a single pelvic thrust in my direction, you warped little runt, and I will have you petrified and sold for a garden ornament. (Assuming there is anybody around foolish enough to purchase him.)” 

“That’s all right Jan,” Rini said. “You can show us later. Right now, I think we should try to find Haer’Dalis and his friends, don’t you?” She had returned to her normal appearance by now and smiled reassuringly at the naked barbarian in the loincloth. “Hi there…don’t worry, I’m not really a demon. Think you lot can escape on your own now?” 

The man goggled at her, then looked worryingly eager as he reached out his massive arms, trying to grab her. “Fine wench! The mighty Gruntir will honor your loins with the sowing of unfettered barbarian seed!” Then he screamed, suddenly and shrilly, and fell to the ground while clutching his groin. 

“Nybol’s Gentle Reminder,” Edwina said, and there was an angry flush in her cheeks. “To remind you not to so much as breathe in the direction of a female as superior to you as the sun is to a dead cockroach. Pity I was out of Acid Arrows…and Flame Arrows…and I wouldn’t have said no to a Skull Trap or two either. (Wants seeds, does he? When I’m done with him there will be moss growing in his empty ribcage.)” 

“Aw, leave him alone ‘Dwina,” Zaerini said, wrapping one of her arms around the wizard’s waist, even as the other toyed teasingly with a strand of her lover’s dark hair. “No need to hurt him anymore, I’m sure he won’t be rude again. And no need to be jealous either…I know who I want to touch me, and it’s not him. So, let’s just find Haery and the rest, and then take a quality break, what do you say?” 

Edwina’s face turned a little bit hotter yet, and there was an eager glint in her eyes. “Very well, my Hellkitten. For your sake, I shall let this wretched excuse for a simian crawl back into whatever tree he came from. My magic is wasted on such an inferior subject, when I could be using it instead to demonstrate to you the finer benefits of a Burning Hands spell…or perhaps a Grease.” 

Jan shook his head sadly. “And for that she passes down the chance to drive our illustrious leader insane with the unsurpassed Jansen dancing skills? Next, she’ll probably refuse the secret inspiring Jansen Turnip Mash, sold with no restrictions or questions asked, shipping and handling not included in the price…” 

Edwina smirked. “A red-blooded Thayvian needs no artificial enhancements, Jansen.” She looked Rini directly in the eyes and lowered her voice a little. “And besides, I have all the inspiration I need, right here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to worry, Vivi Jansen. Eventually, you *will* meet your True Love.


	106. Shadows of Amn

**Cards Reshuffled 106 – Shadows of Amn**

_Evil may come in many shapes and forms, and it behooves us all, from squire to full paladin, to maintain constant vigilance against it. Perhaps the most important lesson to learn is not to allow oneself to grow complacent, for one thing remains true of all evil. Whenever you come to believe yourself safe, that is when you are in the most danger._

_Excerpt from ‘Basic tenets of the Order’, a lesson series by Sir Keldorn Firecam._

It was late at night, and Edwina was sulking. The wizard was standing by the window of one of the upper floor bedrooms of the Five Flagons, and a very fine bedroom it was indeed. Obviously not fitting even for servants’ quarters if she compared it with the Odesseiron Mansion, but far better than the Copper Coronet at least. The floor was clean, as were the windows, there were no disgusting bugs, the curtains were made from fine lace, and the bed…oh yes, the bed. It was a large double bed, with a canopy above it, decorated with chubby little cherubs and golden bunches of grapes. The pillows were thick and fluffy, the sheets were soft (even if they weren’t the soothing silk that she preferred) and the company was of course exquisite. 

A smile crossed Edwina’s lips, a smile tender enough that it would have utterly surprised most of the people who knew her. She turned around and drank in the sight of her lover, a pastime she never grew tired of. Zaerini was deeply asleep, one of her arms thrown back across the pillows almost as if she was reaching for her missing companion. Her bright red hair looked almost black in the darkness, and her eyelashes were sooty smudges against her pale skin. She was smiling in her sleep, a small and satisfied little smile. No nightmares for her at the moment, no Bhaal. _I would have her sleep like this every night._ Even as Edwina watched, the half-elf turned over in her sleep, sighing a little as she hugged the pillow closely. The wizard couldn’t help noticing that the sheets slid down as she did that, revealing a glimpse of the slender body that was so…so…

Edwina gave a sigh of her own, and sat down on the edge of the bed, carefully pulling the sheet back up. _Let her sleep. She needs it, even more than you need her._ It had been a long day, for certain. Once the Planar Prison had been breached, and the Warder and his demon fiancée slain, it hadn’t taken the adventurers long to find Haer’Dalis and the other actors. Raelis had been very grateful and had awarded the Five Flagons Playhouse to her savior. Edwina once again smiled briefly to herself as she remembered the delighted and excited look on her lover’s face. _Were we back in Thay, I would build her a theatre of her own…a grand one, the most beautiful one imaginable, with the finest of actors at her beck and call. But this will suffice for now, I suppose. At least it made her smile._ That Haer’Dalis had chosen not to depart for the Planes with the rest of the actors was something of a disappointment. Well, at least he would not be journeying with them, and it was probably correct what Zaerini said that him remaining the playhouse’s male lead would spare her the trouble of looking for one…but Edwina still didn’t like it. No, not at all. True, she didn’t think her Hellkitten would be seriously interested in the tiefling under normal circumstances, but… _But at least he is male. And even if she says it makes no difference to her, having me like this…for how long will that last? She may mean it now, but that doesn’t mean she won’t change her mind._

That thought was enough to make her stomach tighten into a painful knot, and she bit her lip, trying to relax by lightly stroking her lover’s tangled hair. _So soft…so beautiful…so red. Like fire. If I should lose her…_ But she didn’t even manage to finish that thought. Beyond it lay oblivion. Tomorrow they would seek out the second of the liches guarding the golden bones of Kangaxx, and then hopefully the demilich would keep his word about breaking the Geas. _And what of that annoying verse? It seems likely we will need to fight him._ There was something…something that she almost remembered, but not quite. Something important. Something relating to the Planar Prison? Or to that silly gnome? At least she had left with Raelis and the others to do more Planes traveling, having first reassured herself that none of the actors, nor Gruntir the Enslaved Barbarian were her True Love. Jan had been sorry to see his cousin go, but as far as Edwina was concerned one gnome in the party was quite enough. As for the barbarian, Raelis had enlisted him in her troupe, claiming that he would provide some much-needed comic relief. 

_Much like me. There has to be a way to turn me back to normal…there just has to be! I would do anything to get my own body back, anything at all._ Edwina sighed again, and then hurriedly put a thick cloak on over her nightgown. She didn’t mean to go into the street like this, of course, but one of the fine features of this room was a cozy balcony, and some fresh air might help clear her head. 

Edwina soon found that she had been at least partially right. She still felt moody, but at least it no longer felt as if she were about to get a headache. The wizard leaned against the balcony railing, taking deep breaths of the cool air. Perhaps she would be able to go back to sleep soon. Thoughts of the bed, and especially of her bedmate, urged her to do so. And then there was a sound from below her. A female voice, a woman discreetly clearing her throat. 

“Ah, there you are…I was beginning to think you had all got lost.” The woman was standing right below the balcony. Edwina could just make out her face as a pale oval shadowed by the wide hood of her gray cloak. “I have been sent to speak with you, about a profitable bit of business you and your friends might be interested in.” 

Edwina frowned, straining her eyes to try to see the woman better. Darkvision would have been useful, but she didn’t want to wake Zaerini right now. In fact, she didn’t want to take her eyes off the strange woman for one second. There was something very wrong about her. For one thing, her eyes glittered far more than they ought to, and for another, her rather attractive chest didn’t move at all, except for when she was speaking. This, coupled with what her teacher had said, could really only mean one thing. _Vampire. Not Bodhi herself, she said she had been ‘sent’, but certainly one of her fledglings._ This wasn’t the first vampire Edwina had encountered, that honor was reserved for her own great-grandmother, but she had never been in actual combat with one, and didn’t particularly want to try that without a full array of spells memorized, not to mention her spell components. Far better to play along for now and pretend ignorance of what she had before her. 

“I am always interested in business,” Edwina said, toying with a lock of her hair as she gave the vampire a bored look. “You may tell me more, and we will see if yours is worth the effort, but only after you tell me your name. I believe that is common practice when putting forth a business proposal, even among the unwashed barbarians of this magic-hating midden of a town.” 

“Oh, I think you will find it so. All of you, but you especially.” The vampire smiled; fangs almost entirely concealed unless you knew to look for them. “But this is not the place to discuss such things, so let me just say that my name is Valen, though that will mean nothing to you. My Mistress wishes to meet with you all, and your leader especially, the half-elf. If you come to the Graveyard District at night, she will find you and explain her proposal. And for you, mage, a private word from my Mistress. Persuade the half-elf to come, and my Mistress will rid you of the curse that plagues you. Such a little thing, and such a great reward, would you not agree?” She smiled again, and then retreated back into the shadows, too swiftly for Edwina’s eyes to follow her. “Think about it…but the door that is now open may close soon. Do not take too long…” 

Edwina stared into the darkness, no longer even trying to spot the vampire, and it was not the cool air that made her shiver. 

-*-

In the Government District, Aerie was also having a sleepless night. This was completely voluntary however, as she was attending upon her Goddess. The Avariel was kneeling on the floor of her luxurious bedroom, her long golden hair spilling demurely down on either side of her slender white neck as she bent her head in supplication. She was nude to the waist, and on her back the scars from her sacrificed wings were joined by fresh marks. Ruby red drops trickled slowly down her back, staining the floor, and the short whip she was holding in her right hand was dripping as well. Aerie didn’t ignore the pain, though she could easily have done so. Instead she gloried in it, reveled in it, as a fitting sacrifice to the Maiden of Pain. Her wide blue eyes were glittering eagerly in the candlelight, and she was smiling, a demure yet disturbingly hungry little smile. Some of the blood had accidentally got into her hair, tangling the fine locks at her temples. 

_Great Mistress, hear Your humble servant! I, Cirindaeriella of Faenya-Dil, call upon You. To you, I offer my pain in tribute, that You may partake of it fully. To You, I will offer the pain of my foes and Yours, a tenfold sweeter than this._

Whip. 

_The time is come, Great Mistress Loviatar! The owner of this house, as well as most the young fops of the Government District, are my obedient thralls, utterly subservient to me. With the aid of my illithid ally, my hold on them has grown strong enough that they will gladly die for me._

Whip. 

_And they will serve me well, Great Mistress! The Bhaalspawn is returned to Athkatla at last – she was spotted this evening by one of my spies. Tomorrow, I will strike against her, and the pain I will grant her before her soul departs its husk will be enough for You to grasp her essence, enough for You to become even grander than now!_

Whip. 

_And I, I will have my vengeance, and it will be in honor of You, for are You not also the Goddess of Vengeance? The slow and painful death of the wizard, that impertinent little brat…that should be just the thing to not only grant what You wish, but to utterly crush my own foe as well. Pity I cannot force him to watch…but I will make do with what I have._

Whip. 

_Enter my mind, Great Loviatar, and know my heart! I am Yours, body and soul, and only You can fully appreciate the plan I have crafted in Your glory!_

Whip. 

As fresh blood scattered across the formerly pristine marble floor, Aerie suddenly jerked and convulsed, her eyes rolling back in her head. And then, inside her head, reverberating throughout her entire body, there was a voice. 

**YES.**

And Aerie smiled, tears of joy streaming down her soft cheeks to mingle with the blood, as she rejoiced in the approval of her Mistress. 

-*-

Further to the east, in the dark forest that lay to the north of the Umar Hills, Mazzy Fentan was beginning to worry. The halfling warrior kept her sword ready as she and her companions progressed beneath the dense ceiling of the woods, beneath sharp and jutting branches that could easily poke out an eye or slice through a throat if one were careless. _But I am not careless. In Arvoreen’s name, I will lay low the evil lurking in these woods!_

The quest was a noble one, of that there could be no doubt. Frightened peasants, cowering before an onslaught of some mysterious malignant force, something that killed and disappeared, striking from the shadows. She had been proud and happy to accept the task of helping them. And things had gone well so far, proving that tall folk certainly weren’t the only ones capable of heroic deeds. 

Why, several foes had been slain already, creeping shadows with red eyes and claws that sapped the strength – and then there were the wolves. Mazzy’s lips narrowed into a thin line. _No, you couldn’t exactly call them wolves. Not any longer. Foul creatures. Foul, evil and corrupted. But soon enough, I will shine a light into all the dark places of the world, and then everybody will know what halflings can do._

“Er…Mazzy?” Patrick’s voice, intruding upon her, and though she dearly loved him as much as she had loved anybody, Mazzy couldn’t help frowning a little. 

_And perhaps…perhaps one day it may even be that my valiant deeds will make it so that halflings are granted the full honor of being true Paladins! And I will stand as tall as a mountain in virtue, if not in stature, doing naught but good deeds until the end of my days, smiting Evil wherever I go._

“Mazzy?”

_Perhaps I may even get to meet Sir Keldorn Firecam himself, the living legend! Perhaps…perhaps he will allow me to touch him! Not in any indecent way of course, never that, only perhaps to shake his hand, as one Champion of Goodness to another…_

“Mazzy, I think something is coming!” 

“What?” Mazzy said, turning around. For the first time she noticed exactly how worried Patrick looked. Her other friends were clustered all around her, all of them whispering nervously to each other. “Do you hear something? More wolves?” She listened. “I can’t hear a single footstep.” 

Patrick shook his head. “No, not footsteps. But I hear something approaching all the same. Something large. Mazzy, please, you know my ears are the sharpest in the group.” 

Mazzy opened her mouth to reply, but then she heard it too. A…flapping sound, coming rapidly closer. A flapping sound as of very large wings. And now there was a loud wind, roaring from above, and there, just visible above the treetops, there were eyes. Terrible, terrible eyes. 

“Mazzy!” Patrick, screaming her name. “Mazzy, look out! It’s a…” 

Then, the shadows descended. Shadows, and death. 

-*-

“You…had a chat with a vampire?” Zaerini said, and she could feel her eyes widening. “A vampire came here? Why didn’t you wake me up?” 

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” Edwina said, not looking straight at her. She was looking pretty embarrassed, and she was even ignoring the fact that Insufferable was sitting on her shoulder making tiny braids in her hair. It actually looked quite attractive, Rini thought – but then Edwina always did. “You needed your sleep, and there was no immediate danger.” 

“I suppose…but still, if she comes again, promise to let me know, all right?” The bard tapped her fork thoughtfully against the rim of her plate. She had just been finishing off breakfast when Edwina broke the news. “Well, what’s done is done. We need to decide what to do about this ‘offer’ from Bodhi though.” 

“You can’t possibly consider accepting it!” Edwina exclaimed, and then lowered her voice. “You know what she is, and who she seems to be in league with. She…she may well have made this offer for the sole purpose of ripping your heart out as soon as you come close, and I absolutely forbid you going anywhere near her!” 

“But if she actually can turn you back to normal?”

For a moment, a brief look of regret crept into the wizard’s dark eyes, but then she shook her head adamantly. “No. I will not have you take such a risk for what may well be only her lure to make me persuade you. Absolutely not. (Bad enough that one of them is at risk from that creature – I will not have the other do the same.)” 

Rini was just about to protest, but then she noticed just how desperate her lover looked. _She would do that…she would actually bypass a chance to get her own body back…and for my sake._ “As you wish, Dread Wizard,” she said, and she smiled as she took the wizard’s hand and held it tightly. “I promise we’ll leave Bodhi waiting, at least for now. Besides, if she’s that eager to see me, it might be a good idea to string her along for a while…it might make her slip up, and that’s something not just we but your teacher might take advantage of.” 

“I never thought I would say this,” Jaheira said, nodding, “but Edwina is being very sensible, child. We do not want to walk into a trap, and this certainly smells like one. I would suggest we limit our movements to the daylight hours as much as we can, at least for now.” 

“Aw, but Minsc wanted to make the Evil Vampires into Blood Pudding and Monster Mush!” 

“We may yet get a chance at that, my friend,” Anomen said, clapping the ranger on the shoulder. “But for the nonce, I agree that we should move with caution. Helm would surely approve of wiping such an evil from the face of Faerun, but He also teaches that one should always strive to be carefully prepared for battle. We should move at a time of our choosing, not the vampire’s.” 

Jan nodded. “True, Ano. That usually is the best. Why, my cousin Buffy Jansen, the famous vampire slayer, she always used to say…” 

“Another time, Jan,” Rini interrupted. “All right, so we will leave Bodhi alone for now. There are other things we need to deal with, anyway. And number one on my list is Edwina’s Geas. We have to find the rest of those bones Kangaxx wants, and I say we go looking for them now. They’re even supposed to be in this part of town, after all.” 

_More fighting with rotting dead things?_ Softpaws commented from under the table. _Try not to get chunks of it into your fur – and if you do, you wash yourself._

_I just want the bones, Softy. Trust me, I don’t want to fight a lich unless we really have to._

Rini felt a certain sense of longing, stepping out of the Five Flagons, and she knew why too. The theatre downstairs might not be the grandest one in the world, but it was hers, and that made it feel like…well, like a home of a sort. Home. Once that had been Candlekeep, once, not so very long ago. But since Gorion’s death, she had been a wanderer, constantly on the run, and although adventures could be very interesting and exciting, it was nice to have a place of her own to come back to. She knew perfectly well that she didn’t have much time to spend on the theatre, at least not at the moment. Rescuing Imoen was more important than anything else. All the same, it was nice to dream a little about the things that might be done with the place. _I’ll need some sort of manager, I guess. Good that Haer’Dalis agreed to stay on as lead male actor – he’s really quite good, and he’s a crowd-pleaser. But he’s not the manager type, any more than I am. I’ll need somebody to handle the day to day business of the production. And what kind of play should we play? Something to really draw the crowds in, if we’re lucky we’ll get enough money that way to pay off the Shadow Thieves. Although it will take time…maybe too much time. Well, we’ll see. I’m sure I’ll be able to think of something._

“Better take a look at this, Your Worship!” Jan said, suddenly nudging her. “It looks like our very own Red has struck gold…or at least gold plate, eh?”

Rini turned her head and saw that he was right. Edwina was holding that pendulum of hers up, and it was swinging wildly from side to side. It was pretty clear what it was that it was pointing at too. Close by there was an old and pretty rundown wooden two-story house, situated right on the edge of the large bridge that had given the city district its name. It wasn’t the only house that hung over the edge like this, clinging to the bridge like a bloated tick that has gorged itself full on the blood of an animal and is just about to let go and drop to the ground. Rini didn’t think anybody would especially mourn if this house happened to do that. It didn’t look as if anybody had opened the crooked door for centuries, and the windows were all boarded over. All the same she could almost feel the windows watching her hungrily. “’Dwina?” She said. “This is it, isn’t it?” 

“Of course,” Edwina replied. “I told you before, the pendulum never lies! And now that we have found the proper place, let’s go fetch those bones! I cannot wait to have this Geas off – it is like a persistent itch in an unmentionable place.” Then she noticed what Insufferable was doing on her shoulder, turned a bright red and hastily held a hand up to obscure the monkey from view. “No Suffy!” She hissed. “I did not want you to mime it! No, I don’t care if monkeys always scratch their itches in public!” 

“We need a plan before we do anything else,” Jaheira said. Jan was already hard at work on the ancient door, where he had apparently found a very complex trap. “I do not intend for us to simply waltz in there and be blasted to smithereens by yet another insane dead wizard.” 

Shortly thereafter, Rini was sneaking into the house, using her cat form. She’d figured it would be the best approach for the moment. Not only was she able to move really silently this way, she was small and harmless looking enough that she likely wouldn’t even get noticed. The first floor of the house was empty. Nothing to be seen except for dusty old furniture and… _Oooooh…yummy…_

_Couldn’t you have saved me the tail?_ Softpaws complained as she caught up with her mistress. _You know I like the tails best._

_There are more rats where that one came from, Softy. Oh…and please don’t tell Edwina about it, all right? This shape sort of takes over when it comes to eating habits, and I don’t think she needs to know about that._

_As you wish, kitten. Though what anybody could have against a nice plump rat I really don’t know._

Having headed down a rickety staircase, the two cats came across a chamber dominated by a stone dais with a large and pretty foreboding sarcophagus, currently closed. _Wonder what the odds are that there’s a nasty lich inside that thing? Pretty good, I’d say._ As she jumped on top of the sarcophagus, Rini noticed the dry and dusty smell that rose from it, coupled with the smell of rotting cloth. _Yep, it’s a lich all right. Hope she’s as crazy as the last one, that should make it easier. And I don’t suppose we can get those bones out of there without waking her up. Hmmm…_

And then Zaerini heard something very interesting. It was a dry and dusty voice, sounding sort of like you’d expect a person to sound if they had just swallowed a mouthful of sand, and it was coming from inside the coffin. 

“Thinks she’s so high and mighty…just because she’s got her husband still. It’s not my fault Mr Peasy ran out, now is it? A woman has her needs after all. He just couldn’t keep up with me, that’s all. Weakling. It’s not as if I was that rough, is it?” There was a deep sigh, and then the muttering resumed. “Wonder if Kangaxx would be up for a date? Forget the Evil deal, at least he’s male.” Another pause. “Although he doesn’t have a body, which makes him pretty useless. I could let him have his ribcage back, but stupid senile Mrs Easy has the pelvis and other bones…no good. I can just imagine what she does with them too.” A frustrated sigh. “No, no, no! Must…guard…bones…kill all intruders.” Thoughtful pause. “Except maybe if they’re male…and good looking…and up for a quick cuddle. Sure, I may be undead, but it wouldn’t be the first time. There are all sorts of stories about undead women being kissed by handsome princes, right? Wouldn’t need to even be a prince as far as I care…” Sulky silence. “I mean, what’s wrong with me? Lichdom has made me look great, I’ve never been skinnier! Can’t imagine what Mr Peasy complained about. And what’s up with him going to that tramp Becky-Rose? She’s not nearly as skinny as I am!” Pregnant pause. “Maybe a nice song could convince him of what an idiot he’s been. Hm.” Creaky singing, horribly out of tune, emerged from the coffin. “If you touch me…I won’t crumble…I will only flake…Oooh oooh baaaaaa-beeeee…I’m not an innocent lich!” 

Rini had heard enough. For one thing, the singing was really too horrible to listen to. For another, she thought she might have an idea about what to do next. 

In the end, they all agreed to it. They needed to get the bones after all, and in order to do that the sarcophagus must be opened. And if they were to avoid open combat with the lich, some sort of distraction was in order. Still, just in case the plan wouldn’t work, Anomen and Jaheira cast all the protective spells they had available, concentrating the brunt of them on the cleric. Anomen was looking decidedly pale and worried, Rini noticed, and she couldn’t blame him. “Look,” she said, “you don’t have to do this. I could probably use an illusion to make myself fit the part.” 

“No, my lady,” Anomen protested, shaking his head. “I will not shirk my duty; you have my word on it.” He absent-mindedly fingered his mustache. “Besides, an illusion could work only so far, and methinks a creature of great magical power is likely to see through it. No, the real thing is necessary, and I am by far the likeliest candidate.” 

Rini looked from Jan, who was supporting his special crossbow against his belly as he loaded it, simultaneously telling a rather rude joke about liches, to Minsc, who was advising Boo on battle tactics, and she silently had to agree. “I guess,” she said. “Just be careful, and we’ll be right behind you, all right?” 

Anomen grimly nodded. “Helm protect me…” he murmured. 

-*-

The crypt was silent when the adventurers entered it, silent as a…well, as a crypt ought to be. Certainly, there oughtn’t to be singing going on inside of one, Anomen thought. The Helmite steeled himself and forced his legs to walk closer to the sarcophagus inside of which Horror awaited. If only, oh, if only he could have fought the undead thing instead! But he knew that would be unwise, there was too high a risk of them all being wiped out in the process. No, he would do his part, and do it well. _Pity the wizard has not been returned for what passes for ‘normal’ yet, or I would have made him do it._ But that was not an option, alas. 

Anomen took a deep breath, and slowly slid the lid off the sarcophagus. And there…there she was. A hideous creature, papery skin smeared thinly across jutting bones, jutting ribs cutting holes through the rotting black rag that had once upon a time been a very posh mage robe with silver embroideries. A tangled nest of dark hair partially obscured her ruined face, where the skin was pulled so tight across the bones that she was perpetually grinning a death’s head grin, but not all of it. Oh no, not all of it. The glowing red eyes were staring back at him with surprise and anger, and even now the lich tried to rouse herself and get out of her resting place. 

“Ah…fair maiden!” Anomen said, forcing a rather rigid smile onto his face. “I have…er…come here, drawn by your…by your beautiful crooning, that sings into my heart, filling it with sweet devotion. Pray allow me to steal but a single kiss from your fair lips?” _What lips?_

The lich grinned horribly. “A gallant knight, at long last!” she sighed. “Mr Peasy will go green with raging jealousy…go on, sweep me off my feet!” She sat up, and what had appeared to be her breasts fell out of the rotting rag she wore and was revealed to be the nearly petrified halves of an ancient cantaloupe. Below, there was nothing, but an empty ribcage covered with dry straps of skin. She looked at him with horrible eagerness, an unworldly hunger that made Anomen feel cold to the marrow. This creature wouldn’t hesitate to devour his soul if she could. “A kiss, sweet knight,” the lich sighed. “And then I think we need to go over your image before we can appear in public…we’ll trim your hair a bit, possibly shave your beard…” 

_Shave my BEARD? That…that is VILE!_

“…and those colors are so last century, I think you’d look just darling in pink…perhaps a little sarong outfit to emphasize your feminine side and…”

Anomen had had enough. Revolting as the next step was, he’d do anything to shut the terrible creature up. Bravely fighting down his revulsion, he firmly wrapped the lich in his arms, and then planted a solid kiss on her mostly non-existent lips. The lich was momentarily taken by surprise, but then she was kissing him back, and only Anomen’s firm devotion to duty made him stick with the plan once he reached the conclusion that she still had most of her tongue left. 

So preoccupied was the lich with what she was doing that she was entirely oblivious to Jan and Zaerini deftly pulling a golden ribcage out of her sarcophagus and passing it down to Minsc who was waiting just below the dais. The strong ranger easily stuffed the bones into his pack, and the bard and the gnome then followed him silently out the door. Anomen observed them out of the corner of his eye, and once he was satisfied they were out he decided that his suffering should be at an end. “F-fair lady!” he managed, pulling away from the lich, trying not to spit. “Your pardon, but duty calls…I must make haste, I fear. Rest assured though; I shall never forget you.” Though I wish that I could. Mayhaps my Lord Helm could grant me a spell of forgetfulness this eve? 

“Wait!” Mrs Peasy plaintively called. “Don’t go! Why, we haven’t even begun to discuss what to name our children yet…I think ‘Trademeet’ is a lovely name…” 

Anomen didn’t stay to listen. Instead he hurried out of the crypt, eager to get away before the lich could discover how she had been tricked. He rejoined his friends on the top floor, and they all hastened out of the house – and directly into an ambush.


	107. High Priestess, Low Dealings

**Cards Reshuffled 107 – High Priestess, Low Dealings**

_Beware the Inverted High Priestess. When all that formidable arcane power and divine wisdom is arrayed against you for reasons such as selfishness, greed or vengeance, to hurt rather than to heal, then you must avoid the most obvious path in order to hope to defeat her. For whatever the obvious path will be, you may be sure it is already heavily trapped._

_Excerpt from ‘The Chaltar Deck of Cards – An Introduction’_

Aerie was smiling, her blue eyes wide with pure delight as she surveyed the scene before her. Oh, this was perfect, so utterly perfect. The Avariel had dressed for the occasion, in a pristine snow-white robe, with a loose cowl that framed her pretty face in a lovely manner. Innocence Abused, the Fragile Female, that was the impression she was going for, and she thought she had pretty much achieved it. Of course, under the robe she wore a light yet strong set of elven chainmail she had taken off the corpse of some fool adventurer who had fancied himself in love with her. Well, technically he hadn’t been a corpse yet when she undressed him, but the distinction was fine enough. Anyway, he had spared her a tedious shopping expedition, so she was pleased enough. And the armor should protect her in case one of her foes tried something foolish. 

Not that there seemed a high risk of that. Her pet noblemen had come out in full force, and they had not only brought their own guardsmen, but had also involved a number of official guards. That was one very convenient thing about Athkatla, much like it had been in Thay. If you had the money, there was very little that wasn’t available for sale, including the law. 

At the moment, said guards were surrounding the six adventurers who had just come out of some ghastly old hovel of a place that looked about ready to fall apart. _Hm. I wonder what they might have been doing in there? But that is for later, not for now. Now is the time to let the pets do their work._

“Oh…m-my Lord Eckel!” Aerie breathed, addressing her main thrall. “It is they! The ones who…who k-killed your poor brother… c-cruelly taking that brilliant young man away from us forever…” This was all a lot of poppycock of course. It was the little brat of a wizard who had been involved somehow, quite possibly aided by that _damned_ assassin, not the others, and the dead man had been anything but brilliant. But with the right guards…and the right judge…this accusation would be all she needed, given that the wizard had been present at the scene, and had been seen to wreak havoc there. Especially with highborn witnesses to back her up, and her own…special…means of persuasion. She smiled at Lord Logum, making a small gesture to encourage him to speak. 

The nobleman had been prompted into a reasonable semblance of his old self for this little outing. She had made certain that he wore good clothes, that he was clean, and his hair was washed – he needed to be ordered to do such things now, or he just let himself go. But if you looked closely, you could see the desperate, haunted look in his eyes. You might see such eyes on a man who has stared deep into the Abyss, and found it not only looking back at him, but also laughing merrily at his horror. 

“Yes…” Lord Eckel said, in a dead, toneless voice. “They are the ones. They did it. They…murdered my brother.” 

“And…?” Aerie mildly prompted him. 

“And…and they most cruelly abducted the Lady Aerie…taking her away from her only home with false promises of adventure and splendor…then abandoned her to the mercy of the streets when she did not comply with their evil ways.” 

“Yes!” screeched the man standing next to him, a rather foppish-looking nobleman with long, blond curls and a decidedly insane glint in his eyes. An interesting specimen, Aerie had found him to be. She hadn’t even needed to use her illithid ally on that one. “Bastards! Evil bastards, all of them! Burn them all I say! Burn them alive! Because they’re EEEEEVIIIIIIL! Ah hah! Ah ha ha ha ha ha!” 

”Oooh…” Aerie said, delicately fanning herself with a lacy fan. “How…how h-horrid!” Behind the fan, she murmured a few quiet words, and her hold over the thralls intensified. _How horrid that I can’t have this nitwit burnt at the same time. Well, perhaps later._ “B-but if they will not come peacefully…” She left the word hanging, pleased with its effect as it related to the raving lunatic at her side. No matter how her foes acted, they would play into her hands. If they resisted arrest, they would either die painfully or have been seen killing city guards in public and would be branded as outlaws. All the more glory to the brave little elven girl who overcame her shyness and stepped forward to combat the evildoers. Even if by some miracle they should escape, they would be hunted by the guards, and eventually they would be hunted down. The outcome then would be the same as if they came along right now, which was what she was hoping for. If there was a fight now, they might get killed, and that wasn’t what she wanted at all. Well, not for the Bhaalspawn or the wizard brat, she had given the thralls strict orders to spare those at any cost and make certain they were only incapacitated. The others she would gladly kill right now. 

“This is an outrage!” the half-elven druid protested, directing her ire at the official guards. “We are falsely accused, and you are all participating in a gross injustice!” Only blank faces met her, and the odd sneer. 

“Save it, Jaheira,” the Bhaalspawn said. She hadn’t taken her eyes off of Aerie for a second, and those odd yellow eyes were glittering fiercely. “They won’t listen, they only do what she tells them to. Don’t they, Aerie?” 

Aerie allowed herself a small but satisfied smirk, just visible to the half-elf behind her fan. It was very satisfying to see the other woman’s cheeks go white with rage. “I…I am s-sure these good men know how to do the r-right thing without my prompting,” she said. Then she patted Lord Logum on the arm. It wasn’t so much the gesture of a woman being affectionate towards a man, as that of a woman encouraging a cowed dog. “Don’t you, my Lord?”

The nobleman groaned quietly under his breath. Presumably, he remembered the whips…and the spells…and the little metal clips…and just what a dedicated woman can do to a helpless man if her fingernails are sharp enough. Yes, Aerie thought it was safe to assume that Lord Logum knew exactly what to do without her explicit commands. Not that it would help him in the end, not once she had no further use for him. _Just you wait, Logum Eckel. Right now, you are only begging me for your life, but before I am finished, you will be begging for your death._

The wizard, still in that ludicrous female shape, had been glaring at her throughout, and now she spoke. She was holding onto a hissing little ball of fur that seemed to be a monkey, and thus preventing it from trying to throw itself at the Avariel. Pity. She would have enjoyed mangling the pesky thing. “You are a fool, witch. You bow and scrape before your mistress, letting her use you as a puppet dancing on strings.” There was something chilling in her voice, something eerily familiar. Not the boasting or angry threats Aerie would have expected at all. “You are doomed, either way. Is it possible that your miniscule mind is as deteriorated as your wings, you prancing pigeon-brain? Have you forgotten that much? You cannot win. Even if by sheer luck you should be able to withstand the devastating onslaught of my magic, you cannot win.” She smiled, and there was something ferocious about that smile, something almost hungry. “If I die – there will be no place for you to hide, not for long enough.” 

For a moment Aerie was almost swept along, she almost thought she could sense the shadows creeping closer. But then she shrugged it off. “Childish threats,” she said. “I should have known to expect them.” Then she smiled demurely. “I am no longer the frightened little g-girl you knew from the circus, too naïve and helpless to…to stand up to your evil ways! You don’t frighten me, and I will do all that I can to see you brought to justice.” Murmurs of admiration and approval from among the city guards. Good. They might be thoroughly bought, but adoration always made things ever so much easier. Forcing a little flush into her cheeks, she locked eyes with the wizard, and was overjoyed to see uncertainty in the other woman’s eyes. _Yes, the child still remembers…remembers the pain, the fear, the panic. Remembers how close I came to victory before._ “But I will f-forgive you…desperate people say and do so many foolish, careless, dangerous things. Only, with you s-safely behind bars, I think _I_ will not be the desperate one.” 

Oh yes. She could see the wizard going quite pale now, and now there was definitely fear to be seen, fear that Aerie drank in as if it were a fine vintage. This was so much fun! And she hadn’t even properly got started yet, imagine how much she would be able to amuse herself later on…once the judge had passed the sentence she had decided upon. 

“No!” The foolish Rashemite, that madman with the hamster. “Minsc and Boo cannot allow this! Heroes of Goodness should be parading proudly in the streets, with nice people throwing flowers and candy, and maybe a few nuts for Boo. Not be locked in nasty cages by Evil Aerie!” He reached for his sword, and as Aerie noticed the guards doing the same, she wondered if there would be bloodshed after all. If this idiot made her lose her two prizes somehow, she would make him eat his stupid rodent. Raw, with fresh red peppers and lots of lemon on top. 

However, the Bhaalspawn grabbed the large man’s hand, speaking rapidly to him. “No, Minsc! Please don’t fight them! If you do, we’ll be hunted by every guard in Athkatla! Minsc, please listen to me!” 

“She is right,” agreed the young Helmite. “As much as I doubt that proper procedure has been followed here, on the surface they have the law on their side. If we should fight them, it is we who will be denounced as villains, not they.” 

The guard captain was apparently growing impatient with the proceedings. No wonder – Aerie wasn’t paying him by the hour. “Enough chatter,” he growled. “You lot are all under arrest, and you’d do better to come along peacefully. So, what’s it going to be?” 

There was a heavy silence, during which the six adventurers looked at each other. Then it was broken by the one who hadn’t spoken yet, the annoying gnome. “Well, that is a difficult question, isn’t it? The lady or the tiger you might say, although of course the lady and the tiger are one and the same in this case. Anyway, it reminds me of a story. It involves one of my cousins, Dobby Jansen. Poor fellow was a bit unbalanced, he fancied himself an elf.” 

“The gnome thought himself an elf?” the guard captain asked, clearly fascinated. 

“No, no, my dear fellow. He fancied himself an elf, as in there was this elven lass he fancied. Strange, I know, what with her having such a tiny nose and being far too tall, but there you have it. Anyway, Dobby worked for the Cowled Wizards Institute of Higher Learning, doing their laundry, and the elf in question taught divination there – she was a little flaky, but was great with tea leaves. Well, she was actually only great with the part that involved drinking the tea, but she was a fabulous liar, so nobody noticed. I wonder if that’s an especially elven thing?” 

“What about your cousin?” asked another guard, and Aerie didn’t like the glazed look in his eyes much. There was a form of mind control going on here that she didn’t recognize and didn’t like at all. For a moment she wondered if she should attack, but it seemed premature – and she did not want to risk the Bhaalspawn or the wizard getting killed. 

“Well, Dobby did the only thing he could, really. He stole her socks out of the laundry basket.” The gnome sighed tragically. “I’m afraid old Dobby had a thing for socks, and the dirtier the better. Well, the elf found out, and she pulled him in front of the faculty, charging him with theft and indecent behavior. Poor Dobby didn’t know what to do, but then he remembered that the Headmaster just so happened to owe him a favor, after Dobby gave him the recipe for Jansen Turnip Toffees, with the taste you never forget.” 

“I just bet,” the wizard quietly muttered. “And I am very, very grateful that I was home schooled.” 

“Oh, I don’t know, Red…you might have liked Viper House just fine from what I heard of it. Anyway, the Headmaster made up a brilliant defense. He put forth that actually the elf had given Dobby the sock. See, Dobby just happened to be hiding in the laundry basket at the time, trying to sort through it, and when she came by and threw the sock in, she threw it at Dobby. So naturally he thought it was a special present for him and he should be made to go free.” 

“And that actually worked?” the Bhaalspawn said. 

“Of course, your worship. Especially since it was the Headmaster who was meant to pass sentence on Dobby, and he still wanted the recipe for Turnip Titillations. Classy man, very classy. Must have some gnome blood. Anyway, it just goes to show that it isn’t just the facts that matter, it’s having the right friends in the right places, especially high and respectable places, and knowing when to call upon them in order to have them speak those facts. See?”

The Bhaalspawn had listened to these insane ramblings with a curious look on her face, and Aerie was liking that look less and less, especially since she didn’t know what it signified. Aerie didn’t like not knowing what people around her were up to, it made her nails itch with the urge to gouge out eyes. It was so…untidy. 

“Yes, Jan,” The Bhaalspawn said, and there was a faint smile on her face. “I see what you mean.” She turned to the guards. “We will come peacefully, no need for violence.” 

And although it was exactly what she had wished for, Aerie suddenly didn’t feel happy at all. 

-*-

The cell was small. Cramped even, considering that it was holding six people. The furniture was what a charitable person might have called ‘minimalist’, and consisted of a pile of hay, and one bucket. Edwina tried to avoid looking at the bucket. She had thought the Copper Coronet was bad, but this was…an outrage! It was bad enough to be held in a cramped, filthy, dank cell, without having the dreaded specter of that bucket looming in the future. The wizard clenched her fists, wanting more than anything else for Aerie to appear before her so that she could…

_Boss?_ Insufferable was huddling on her shoulder, and he sounded very worried. _You don’t really want her to come here, do you?_

Edwina thought about that, and gradually the comforting anger left her, and was replaced with dreadful, paralyzing fear. No, of course she didn’t. Not here, not now, not when she was more or less helpless. 

“Dread Wizard?” It was her Hellkitten, reaching up a hand to touch her shoulder comfortingly. The half-elf’s glittering golden eyes were concerned and anxious, but not yet fearful. But they will be! We have to get out of here, we have to, before that thrice-bedamned elf…hurts her. “You’re the one of us with the most experience with her,” Zaerini said. “What do you think she’s planning?” 

Edwina tried to concentrate. It wasn’t very easy, since she could imagine all too well the kind of things Aerie might be planning for them. She still remembered the pain, the excruciating pain, and the despair and fear and…she swallowed heavily, forcing the memory back. Her lover was counting on her, and she would demonstrate her superior analytical powers of reasoning and planning if it killed her. “Pain,” she said in a bleak voice. “Whatever else the Avariel wants, and I do not for a second doubt that she has more than one motive, pain will be part of it. Pain and suffering, as much as possible. For all of us probably, for you and me certainly, since we have directly crossed her before. Your heritage probably plays into it as well, somehow. And in my case, I am certain she also means to use me as bait.” 

“Your…teacher?” Anomen asked, sounding curious. “You believe he would come for you?”

“NO! I _know_ he will if he learns of this.” Edwina hugged herself tightly, trying to keep from shivering. “And he will, she will make certain that he does, somehow…and she will be waiting and…and…” Her imagination was already supplying her with the conclusion to that thought, and she was unable to let go of its horror. 

“Edwina!” Zaerini was holding tightly onto her now, and she felt warm…so warm. A living flame, the only warm thing in this cold and hideous dungeon. “Edwina, please, please try to calm down! I can understand why you’re so worried, but surely he will know it’s a trap?” 

“You don’t understand,” Edwina said, feeling as if her stomach was a hollow pit of fear. “Of course he will know that. But he will come anyway.”

“Aye!” Minsc heartily agreed. “That is the proper way for a _dejemma_ to be handled! Minsc and Boo would never have abandoned fair Dynaheir to the Evil Gnolls, though there be thousands of them all yapping and snarling, or Little Rini to the Evil Masked One, and surely the Dark Hunter will do just the same and be welcome into his lodge for guarding you properly, or into the halls of his ancestors if he should fall in glorious battle!” 

Edwina gaped, for an instant imagining her teacher with Rashemite tattoos, a fur loincloth and a very large sword, charging Aerie in berserker fury. “That’s not why…he’s not on a …oh, never mind. It would take too long to explain, and it is not my business to do so. Suffice it to say, he will come, trap or not.” _And he had better not fall in ‘glorious battle’ or I will never forgive him!_ But she would. Of course she would. She didn’t think she would ever forgive herself though. 

“Well,” Jaheira said, “that may be so, but I think we would do better to think of what we can do to rectify this situation.”

Jan looked up from his examination of the lock on the cell door. “I could probably pick this,” he said. “They didn’t find all of my lockpicks when they searched us. There’s just one teeny tiny problem though…” 

“Yes,” Jaheira agreed, looking at the guard standing further up the corridor. “We could undoubtedly fight him, but that would cause problems all the same, much as if we had initially resisted arrest. Still, if the situation becomes desperate enough, we may have to do so.” 

“Surely the judge will see reason though?” Anomen said. “We are clearly innocent of any wrongdoing.” 

Edwina laughed hollowly. “And this would affect the outcome of a trial in what way, exactly? Do you seriously think the Avariel would have gone to all the trouble of arranging our arrest, only to neglect the preparation of the judge? (I suspect she wants to manipulate the sentence as well – a regular jail term would hardly be painful enough for her tastes.) ”

Zaerini nodded. “I agree. She would do that, wouldn’t she? She’d want to have the game completely fixed. So, I say, let’s not play the game she wants us to.” She leaned towards the barred cell door. “Hey! Hey, you! Guard!” 

The man approached, but stayed warily out of reach, despite the adventurers having been relieved of their weapons upon arrest. “What d’you want?” he asked. 

“Nothing much,” the half-elf said. “Just to send a message to let somebody know we’re here. That would be all right, wouldn’t it?” 

The guard nodded, slowly and suspiciously. “Maybe. But I’d have to approve it first.” 

“Oh, sure thing. You can read it first if you want, no problem.” She grinned. “Nothing underhanded about this – it’s going to a pillar of the community, after all.” 

-*-

He received the strange message just as he was about to retire for the night and read it with increasing concern. “Arrested?” he murmured to himself. “What in Torm’s name…” 

“Keldorn?” Maria sounded almost as worried as he felt. “Keldorn, what is wrong?” 

“I…am not rightly sure,” the old paladin said. “But I must find out. These young people aided me before, and now they seem to need my aid in return. Moreover, I am certain they are innocent of this crime they stand accused of.” He paused, thinking of the wizard. “Reasonably certain, at any rate.” 

His wife nodded, the candlelight making her hair shun as spun gold, making her look as young as when they had first met. “I understand, Keldorn,” she said. “Truly, I do. And of course, you must go. If you did not, you would not be the man I love.” 

Smiling, the paladin bent forward, to kiss his wife. After the encounter with Sir William, he and Maria had sat down for a good long talk. It would take some time before things were exactly as they had once been, but at least they were better than they had been in a long while. _At least we are able to talk to each other._ He would retire from active duty in the Order, focusing on training and teaching, so that he would be able to spend more time at home with Maria and the children. She, in return, had promised that if she should ever again find him wanting, she would speak directly to him about it. And so, they had both forgiven one another, or at least begun to do so, and Keldorn believed the wounds would heal fully in time. 

Time. Something those young adventurers might not have much of at the moment. But he would do what he could to grant it to them. Hopefully it would be enough. 

Upon reaching the prison in Waukeen’s Promenade, Keldorn identified himself to the guards, and explained his errand. He was given a few puzzled looks for that, but he was let in all the same. After all, paladins were unlikely to engage in jailbreaks. When he was brought to the cell holding his friends, Keldorn was relieved to see them all alive and seemingly unharmed. 

“Sir Keldorn!” Young Anomen sounded utterly mortified, and his face went crimson as he noticed the paladin. “This…this is not what it seems, I assure you! Upon my honor I swear to you that we have been wrongfully accused, and plotted against by a fiend in female shape, an insidious viper and…” 

“Keldorn!” Zaerini exclaimed, smiling widely. Her red hair was a little ruffled, but there was an excited glitter in her yellow eyes. “Boy, am I glad to see you! I thought you’d come, but I couldn’t be sure, see, despite what my latest Reading seemed to hint at.” 

“Of course I would come,” Keldorn said. “But I warn you, young lady, you had best be truthful with me if you wish my aid. Please tell me exactly what is going on here.” 

“Oh, I will…I just hope you’ll believe it, because I know it sounds a bit wild. Just ask the guard in the corridor to step far enough away that he can’t hear us, and I’ll tell you everything.” 

The story took some time, and Keldorn listened intently. It was the truth he was hearing; he did not doubt it for an instant. _Such evil…such malice! But of course, when an elf chooses to walk the dark path, she will have so much more time to delve deeply into corruption, to finely tune her capacity for cruelty. Just as the…drow._ Keldorn rubbed briefly at his temples, trying to banish the nasty memories. It would not do to let himself get wrapped up in them, not at this time. “I must keep within the confines of the law,” he said. “I must act as I have sworn to do, unless I have no other choice when it comes to protecting an innocent life.”

Zaerini nodded. “If you say so. But I wasn’t going to ask you to break the law, that wouldn’t really be fair to you. Besides, it wouldn’t help much. No, what I’d like you to do is something Jan inspired me to, with that story of his, to use the law to help us.” She looked at him, her eyes very serious. “Will you do that, Keldorn? Will you speak for us before the judge? I know there isn’t any evidence as such – but you are a legendary paladin, your word carries a lot of weight, and they will listen to you, I know they will. I’m not asking you to lie or anything.”

“Of course I would be happy to do so, my lady, but the burden of proof…”

“The burden of proof lies on the accuser, not the accused,” Jaheira said. “And there is no actual evidence, apart from the ramblings of a madman and the intrigues of that…elf.”

Keldorn nodded. “Very well. I will do what I can, of course. Perhaps if the true nature of your accusers might be exposed, their accusations would lose credibility in the eyes of the judge.” 

“And that’s another thing,” Zaerini said. “I think it’s extremely likely that the judge has been tampered with. If that’s the case, it doesn’t really matter what is said in court, we’ll be condemned anyway. One way or another we must make sure that the judge handling our case isn’t Aerie’s pawn.” 

“To her,” Edwina said, “All others are pawns.” She was biting her lower lip, looking nervous and very edgy. “She is the White Queen, and she has placed us neatly in check. But not mate yet, no, not yet. (Do not think of it…do not even think of it…)” 

“Sir Keldorn?” Anomen again, sounding anxious, yet confident that the paladin would be able to do something. “Is there not a way you can learn the truth of this matter? You are especially practiced in combating evil mages after all, and in ferreting out the truth.” 

“Aye,” Keldorn said. “I am. But you do not fully comprehend the problem. I may well be able to learn that the judge intended to pass sentence upon you is being manipulated somehow by this elf of yours. But what then? I cannot slay an innocent person, manipulated or not. And even if the judge is corrupt in his own right, I cannot take the law into my own hands. Surely you do not expect me to simply walk into the man’s house and snuff out his life?”

Zaerini’s eyes were glittering again, glowing faintly from within the gloomy cell. For a second, for a brief second the paladin was very glad to have the bars between her and himself. It was as if he had seen something in the girl’s place…something other. Something evil. “Of course not, Keldorn,” she said. “Not you.” 

Keldorn was surprised to see Edwina suddenly startle, and then grip the redhead by the arm, glowering at her. “No! I will not allow it! Not here, in this place! You know what it could mean!” 

Zaerini placed her hand soothingly on top of the other woman’s, stroking it, and her voice was very calm. “Think about it, ‘Dwina…you said yourself that he will learn, sooner or later. Isn’t it better that we let him know what’s going on than that he hears it from _her_?” 

The wizard was very pale by now, and her voice was almost inaudible. Whatever was affecting her so strongly, Keldorn could not imagine. “Yes. Yes, perhaps you are right. I do not like it, but you are probably right. I will…pass a message on. (And may it not be as disastrous as the other one.)” 

Keldorn wasn’t certain what was going on, but he didn’t approve of the implications. “Young lady,” he sternly told Zaerini. “I want you to tell me what you are planning, at once. I will not be an accomplice to murder any more than I will be an active participant, and if that is what you think…” 

“No,” the half-elf said. “Don’t worry, Keldorn. I’m sure nothing of the sort will be necessary. And I’ll explain it all.” A sudden amused but simultaneously apprehensive grin flashed across her face, quick as lightning. “Also, there’s somebody I really would like for you to meet…”


	108. Knight Gambit

**Cards Reshuffled 108 – Knight Gambit**

_Back and forth, and wrong and right,  
Pair the Black Knight with the White._

_Up and down, and rules will crack,  
When joins the White Knight with the Black. _

_Atkathlan children’s skipping rhyme, attributed to one ‘Haer’Dalis’._

Keldorn did not approve. The old paladin was in a fairly dark mood as he left the prison, and he was trying to think of any way he could have acted differently. And yet…without the intervention of that girl and her friends, where would he be now? Would it be Maria inside one of those dark cells? 

No, he would help the half-elf as much as he could, of course he would. Independent of the service she had done him, it was the right thing to do, of that he was certain. She was being wrongfully accused, and he would do his utmost to see her set free. Even if that meant doing something…unpalatable. 

But only unpalatable, no worse than that. _And a paladin must sometimes seek out people of a less than virtuous nature, in order to do good. It is not as if I am being asked to commit any crimes, or indeed to endorse them. And in fact, that it is I carrying this message should give me ample opportunity to prevent any theoretical wrongdoing._

The sun had just set when Keldorn reached Waukeen’s Promenade, and the shadows were lengthening minute by minute. A few lingering rays of sun gleamed on the rooftops, red as blood. The paladin passed the merchants in their stalls, all of them busy clearing their goods away for the night. He did not spare them a single glance. It was not shopping he had come here for. 

Keldorn took the steps past the Temple of Ilmater, sparing a compassionate glance and some coins for a ragged beggar sitting huddled outside it. The last sunlight glinted off his platemail, making it momentarily glow as bright an orange as the dying sun itself. Then the sun disappeared altogether behind the chaotic wreckage that had been part of the Promenade not so long ago, and Keldorn passed into the shadows. 

There was a small tavern here, in the lower reaches of the Promenade, one that lacked the glamour of the Mithrest or the more rustic charm of the Den of the Seven Vales. It was called ‘The Rampant Rabbit’, and there was a rather disturbing sign outside, portraying two purple, fanged rabbits in the process of energetically…making more rabbits. Keldorn squared his shoulders, sighed a little, and went inside. 

At first the tavern seemed tiny, but then Keldorn realized that the many little nooks and crannies of it caused this impression. There seemed to be walls jutting out everywhere, and odd corners that made no apparent sense. And it was dark, too. He could barely make out the people sitting at the various tables, carrying out muffled conversations, and that wasn’t solely because so many of them seemed to be wearing hooded cloaks, or obscuring hats. Their voices murmured constantly in the background, whispers caught and muffled before they could reach the wrong ears. 

_Of course_ , Keldorn thought. _There are inns you go to for the purpose of being seen in the right company. But this is the other kind, the kind you go to in order not to be seen, with the wrong company._ The heavy-set half-orc bouncer standing by the door gave him a suspicious glare, as if to warn him not to bother the customers. _And I should not be surprised. I do not exactly fit in here._ Undoubtedly some of the business carried out here would be illegal, but there was hardly anything he could do about that, unless a crime was openly committed. Suspicions did not allow him to assault people, after all. Also, he had a mission to fulfill. 

That decided, Keldorn moved on towards the bar. The bartender, a surly man in his late forties, eyed him warily. “Yeah?” he asked. “What can I get you?” 

“Some of your best ale, if you please,” Keldorn said. He sincerely hoped it would be drinkable and come in a mug that was at least mostly clean. Then, he proceeded as instructed. “Or perhaps you recommend the wine instead? I don’t suppose you have any Rasheman Red? I was told that 1345 was an especially good year.” 

The man’s eyes widened just a little bit. “Might be I can dig something up,” he said. “Can’t promise for sure though, and you’d best be prepared to wait.” 

Keldorn nodded politely, paid for a mug of ale to have something to occupy himself in the meantime and sat down at a table near a wall, with his back to said wall. Yes, he was wearing his armor, but this was a rough place and he did not wish to take any unnecessary chances. The paladin slowly sipped his drink, which smelled sharp enough to make his eyes water, and waited, something he was highly practiced at. Impatient paladins were plentiful – but impatient old paladins were extremely rare. At the moment, he could do nothing but wait, watch and be prepared, and so he did. 

Keldorn kept watching the bartender as well as he could, but the crowd around the bar was often thick and noisy, and if the man spoke closely with anybody in particular, he did not notice it. A couple of hours passed, and nothing eventful transpired. And then Keldorn turned his head back from yet another scrutiny of the bar, only to find another man sitting in the chair opposite him. 

_By Torm! I never even saw him approach._

“I understand you requested to speak with me,” the other man quietly said. “And so, I assume you would know who I am. However, I do not know who you are, and I would like to know that before we discuss anything else of importance.” Dark eyes narrowed a little in a sharp-featured face that was currently maintaining an expression of cool impassiveness. “And also, just how you knew to come looking for me in this place and what is your relationship with the only person who should know.” 

Keldorn nodded, and paused for a moment, thinking on how to begin. Diplomatic negotiations were something he was familiar with; he had done his fair share of them for the Order. As he thought, he took the opportunity to carefully scrutinize the young fellow opposite him, while trying not to be too blatantly obvious about it. _Young, yes. Everybody seems so young these days._ Dark hair and eyes, yes, but light in skin color, so no obvious clue to nationality there. And no trace of an accent either, which was a bit odd and not what Keldorn would have expected given that the wizard had a fairly heavy one. Marked features, and fairly lean as well, not with the bulky build of many fighters. _Definitely that of a rogue though. And he moves with the preciseness of one too._

“Do I perhaps have something unsightly stuck between my teeth?” the other man said, leveling a challenging look at Keldorn. “Or should I repeat my reasonable request in a louder voice, for your benefit?” 

“Young man,” Keldorn admonished, “I may have a number of more years added to my life than you do, but I am not yet hard of hearing. I am Sir Keldorn Firecam, paladin of the Order of the Most Radiant Heart, and come bearing a message from one you know well, who is currently in some difficulty and requests your aid.” 

The other man raised an eyebrow, looking faintly amused. “’Young man’, is it? Consider me duly chastised, Sir Paladin. And now, please explain to me exactly how you come to know this particular person of my acquaintance, and what is the nature of this ‘difficulty’ to which you refer.” He leaned back a little in his chair, steepling his fingers against each other while he watched Keldorn intently. “I do not doubt that it is a tale I should hear as soon as possible.” 

_Well, at least he is capable of more courtesy than the wizard is. Very interesting._ Keldorn began his explanation, attempting to quote verbatim as much as possible, and before long the other man wasn’t looking the least bit amused any more. Instead he was watching the paladin steadily, and his eyes had taken on a focused look that was just a little bit disturbing in its intensity. His face remained calm though, except for a slight tightening around the mouth as Keldorn got around to the part regarding the involvement of that elf. “I should have seen this coming,” he said. “This, or something akin to this. She always enjoyed acting through proxies, that one. I knew she was entrenched in the noble circles; I should have known that she’d infiltrate the justice system as well.” 

Now, this was something Keldorn was reasonably familiar with. It wasn’t uncommon for the diligent young squires, or knights for that matter, to be wracked with guilt over failing to attain what they considered to be perfection, and he was used to dealing with the situation. “Imperfection is part of what makes us human,” he simply said. “I know this well and consider myself fortunate to have been able to learn something from what mistakes I’ve made. What matters is how one progresses onward, attempting to atone for those mistakes.” As Maria and I have done and will continue to do. 

The dark man looked at him for a few seconds, his face unreadable. “You intrigue me, Sir Keldorn,” he said. “And there is some truth to your words, though I still think…but no matter. Something must be done, indeed. You have been told something of my and my student’s past involvement with the elf, I presume? Yes? Well, she would very much like to get me in her power, due to our previous interaction. And know that if I thought she would let the others go free; I would not hesitate to give myself up.” 

He meant it too, Keldorn was certain of that much. There hadn’t been the slightest hesitation, nor any sense of falsehood. “I believe you, yet that would serve no purpose,” the paladin carefully responded. “If she is truly all that I have been told, which I have no reason to doubt, then this creature will never settle for less than a complete vengeance.” 

The younger man nodded. “I know it,” he said. “I suppose I simply wanted to explain that I am utterly serious about this matter. I will have them out of there, one way or another.”

“Force would be counterproductive,” Keldorn admonished. “I cannot condone it, unless it should be in a situation of utmost emergency. And also, it would lead to later repercussions.” 

“Yes, of course. They would not be able to move freely, and that would be very awkward. Yet it would be infinitely preferable to being left to the tender mercies of a certain…lady.” He leaned forward a little and looked Keldorn straight in the eyes with a challenging stare. “I hope you agree with this.” 

_Ah, the rashness of youth. Was I ever that…impetuous?_ “There is another way,” Keldorn said. “It was suggested to me, by a certain young flame-haired lady, that my own influence and good word might well help. However, it must first be ensured that the judge is an impartial one, not subject to…corruption.” 

“Ah.” A faint smile. “Yes, that would be only prudent, of course. And preferable to tackling the elf directly, at this time. Now, as I understand it, each district of the city has one appointed senior judge, as well as two subordinates who handle simpler cases, and to fill in for him. But who, I wonder, would fill in if some unfortunate accident should render all three of them incapable of participating in the comical play that is the justice system?” 

“One would need to be brought in from outside,” Keldorn said. Then his voice turned steely. “But I will see no harm brought to innocent people! If it is as we suspect, then these men are themselves victims of dark magic, and I would have to defend them with my own life.”

The younger man sat silent for a moment, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against the tabletop. “I thought you would see it like that,” he said. “Very well. Sir Keldorn, as long as you provide me with the names I need, then I swear to you that the people in question will suffer no more than temporary inconvenience. I give you my word of honor upon it.” Then the corners of his mouth quirked upwards a little in an ironic smile. “Though I realize that this is probably about as precious to you as a wooden coin, it is all I have to give you. If you are not content with it, we will simply go our separate ways, and I shall be making my own arrangements from now on.” 

Keldorn thought upon this, searching his soul for the right answer. The smells of spilt beer and unwashed people, the murmuring voices, the flickering candle flames, all these distractions and many more he shut out, focusing only upon himself and his companion. _Torm, grant me wisdom now, and help me stay true. Grant me the clarity of vision that I need._

And the power of his God filled him, forming a tentative connection between him and the man before him. It was nothing as plain as a reading of thoughts, nothing as clear as a ‘good’ or ‘evil’. Rather, it was a chaotic storm, a jumbled mixture of confusing sensations and impressions. Darkness, that was the strongest one, darkness and danger, and for a moment he almost pulled back. But no…wait. There were other impressions as well, brief flashes. _The night sky…holds a million stars and more._

The connection faded, and Keldorn felt himself once again solidly grounded in his own body, with all its familiar aches and pains, including that annoying twinge in his right knee. Eyes as dark and distant as the night sky were looking coolly back at him. “If you ever again should find that kind of reassurance necessary, you will do me the courtesy of asking first, unless you deliberately wish to make me severely displeased.” 

“My apologies,” Keldorn said. “But I bear a heavy burden of responsibility and could not afford to make my decision lightly. I did what I thought was best, and I believe you can understand that.” 

“Perhaps. And have you made your decision now, Sir Paladin, to trust my word or not?” 

Keldorn did not answer at once. Instead he reached across the table, grasping the other man’s hand and shaking it firmly. “Aye,” he said. “So I have, and so I will.” 

-*-

Aerie was singing quietly to herself as she entered the prison, now and then directing a dazzling smile towards the guards she encountered in the corridors. She didn’t own them all…if so, she could simply have had her prisoners delivered straight to Lord Logum’s estate, and that would have been that. No, she would still need to go through the charade of a trial, but that was really only a minor obstacle. The three resident judges were all firmly in hand, and the verdict was already fixed. 

_That the miscreants should be sentenced to…service, to be forced to do good deeds in order to outweigh their past crimes. And who better to take custody of them than the sweet, kind, generous Aerie, who will be pleading so tearfully for them, stating that she cannot abide more death? And then…they will be mine, and no further questions will be asked._

She was singing in Elven, as was her custom, her blonde locks dancing merrily against her back as she descended the long staircase towards the dungeon. Lightly as she stepped, her sharp heels still clip-clopped sharply against the stone steps, the sound of them edgy with anticipation. Undaunted by the lonely dripping of cold water along the moldy stone walls, unfazed by the bitter cold that made her low-cut yellow dress cling to her body like a second skin, totally indifferent towards the darkness or the stench of dirt and despair, Aerie sang. Her light, breathy voice sounded sometimes sweetly innocent, sometimes innocent yet seductive, and many of the guards smiled as they heard it. They, of course, could not understand the words. 

_With a taste of my whip,  
You will bleed,  
I am poison  
You’re slipping slowly…  
With a taste of fun and games…  
I’m addicted to pain,  
Don’t you know that I’m poison?   
And I love what I do!  
Don’t you know that I’m poison?_

“You really need to practice your pacing, you know. Not to mention that you constantly sound like you’re running out of breath. Now, I would offer to give you some singing lessons, but I really don’t like you very much. My cat might spare you a moment or two though, certainly her voice is about ten times as melodious as yours.” Zaerini said all this with a quite impressive poise for one so young, but Aerie was good at spotting signs of weakness in people. She could see the tension in the mongrel’s posture, and the way her eyes glittered just a little too brightly. _So, she has had time to think, and perhaps share some stories with her little paramour. Good. She may even think she fears me now, but of course she doesn’t. Not as she should. Not yet._

Aerie stood a little distance away from the cell, well out of reach, her hands primly folded in front of her, and she smiled pleasantly. “Primitive insults,” she said. “I did not come here to exchange naughty words, you know.” Ah, it was good to be able to do away with that miserable stutter for a while – enemies were nice that way, when you were able to let all masks fall before them and truly be yourself. 

“And why did you come?” The other mongrel, the older one. “To gloat? Just what one might expect.” 

“No, not exactly.” Aerie smiled again, toying idly with a lock of her golden hair. It ran through her fingers easily, soft as silk, strong as steel. “Only to prepare you for what is to come, so that you have time to think about it. It will save me some effort, later on.” _The more broken they are to begin with, the easier my task, after all._

“Then speak and be done with it, wench.” The wizard, still looking rather pale and tense, but still with a spark of defiance in those dark eyes. _On the other hand, it’s more fun if they’re not fully broken to begin with. Much more fun._ “And you had best do it quickly. The sight of you sickens me, and if it eventually makes me regurgitate my breakfast, I will make certain to aim for your face. (It would be a vast improvement, actually.)” 

“Wench?” Aerie allowed her smile to widen just a little bit, while she carefully studied the girl’s figure. “How amusing, little one, given your own current circumstances. Tell me, did you run crying to your minder yet, lamenting your woes? I suspect he finds you quite wearisome by now – perhaps he would be secretly relieved to be rid of you, hmm? Not being constantly forced to attend upon you and clean up your messes?” 

“That…that is not true!” The girl was gripping the bars of the cell-door by now, her cheeks flushing a bright red, but there was just a hint of desperation in her eyes. _Oh, lovely…so she does fear that. I must remember it._ “That is a filthy lie, and for that I will rip your slandering tongue from your head and use it to polish the soles of my shoes!” 

“’Dwina, calm down!” The redhead mongrel again, she had grasped the wizard by the shoulder and was pulling her back from the bars, speaking rapidly to her. “She’s just trying to bait you, to hurt your feelings, you know that.” 

“Yes…yes, of course I know. Preposterous of course, utterly preposterous. As if anybody could grow weary of me. (Only…he has had to put up with quite a lot for my sake. Suppose…no. I will not speak of it. I will not think of it.)” 

“Well, perhaps I was mistaken,” Aerie purred. “It may be that he does care for you after all…enough to attempt to come for you here, even. Or enough to attempt to harm me. Either way could be very amusing entertainment. If he does, I will make certain to let him share this cell with you. Or at least, to let his head do so.” 

Oh, that had been a good one. The girl clearly didn’t want to believe any such thing could possibly happen to the man she practically worshipped, but she still feared it, feared it greatly. She wasn’t crying, but Aerie suspected that she wasn’t too far from doing it. _Tonight, I believe I will ask the guards to toss a sack containing some suitably round object in there. A cabbage perhaps. Her reaction should be…interesting._

“I believe that even as prisoners, we have the right not to suffer undue harassment.” The Helmite priest was watching her coldly and had stepped in front of the women. _How very chivalrous. Pity I couldn’t have kept him._ “If you have anything other to say I suggest you do so, or we will call on the guards.” 

Aerie thought about this. It hadn’t been too difficult to persuade the guards on this floor to allow her to have a word with the prisoners, seeing that she was supposedly one of their victims. Still, the ones currently on duty had only been persuaded with normal means, not with her special tricks, so they might still protest if there was too much of a ruckus. Anyway, she had managed to sow quite a few seeds of fear and worry already, and she had had a tremendous good time doing so. “Of course, Sir Anomen,” she said in her sweetest voice. “Oh…I am so sorry…you have not been knighted _yet_? Well, I am sure recent events will require some special consideration.” _Hah, that one made him flinch! Goody._ “I really only came to tell you that I will do all in my power to avoid you having to stay in this rotten, horrid old jail,” Aerie went on. “I’m sure that if I just explain things to the judge, other arrangements can be made, and then we’ll have lots more time to talk. Have a nice night, now.” 

With that, the Avariel meant to turn around and leave. Her implications had been vague enough to create fear and unease, she hoped, yet not specific enough to give her opponents any advantage. And really, what could they possibly do, locked in here as they were? Nothing, of course. 

It was the voice of that addled ranger that stopped her, of all things. He sounded almost sad, but very certain. 

“Minsc is sorry to see Aerie being so Evil – Minsc had hoped that maybe he was all wrong, like he sometimes is, but now Minsc sees that Aerie wants to hurt Minsc and Boo and friends, and make little Rini cry, and make the Evil Girl Wizard cry too. That is a very bad thing to do, and Boo says that Aerie wants to do things so Evil he doesn’t even dare tell Minsc or Minsc might go very mad and maybe hurt his friends by mistake, being shut inside this tiny cage. But Boo knows, and he is not a happy hamster.” 

Aerie turned around, to see the big oaf looking back at her. He was holding that disgusting little rodent he always carried about in the palm of his hand, and it was watching her too, with a very disturbing look in its beady little black eyes. The hamster was watching her, in a far too knowing way for an animal of its kind, as if it could see directly into her soul, and it was puffing out its furry cheeks contemptuously. 

And then Boo leapt, squeaking furiously, and before Aerie knew it the little animal was scurrying towards her across the floor, having easily passed between the bars of the cell, and agonizingly sharp little claws were digging into her leg, and then there were teeth, teeth that felt far larger than they should have been, and far more painful. “Oooowwww!” Aerie screamed, kicking furiously. “Get off, get off of me, you disgusting little beast!” She could handle pain, but she preferred to be properly prepared, and she definitely preferred it to be dignified. The laughter of her foes made her hiss with fury, and then she finally managed to shake the animal off. 

Boo slid across the floor, and eventually hit the wall with a dazed look in his eyes. Smiling triumphantly, Aerie stepped over to the hamster, and pure joy rose in her chest as the annoying laughter stopped. Her foot in its elegant shoe was poised directly over the prone animal, her aim perfect. Her shoe with its very sharp and spiky heel. 

“NOOOO!” Minsc screamed. “NOT BOOOOOOO!” 

“Oh yes,” Aerie said. “And tomorrow – the bigger pests.” 

The feeling of small bones shifting and shattering beneath her foot was highly satisfying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, this cliffhanger was evil - but it's Aerie, after all!


	109. Mock Trial

**Cards Reshuffled 109 – Mock Trial**

_If you should ever find yourself in court during the course of your adventures, it may help to remember one thing. The truth is only one part of what goes on in the courtroom, the rest of it is about how well or badly you and the other performers play your parts. And if the truth is fuzzy, as it sometimes is, then the best performer wins._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

It couldn’t be happening. It shouldn’t be happening. But it was. Zaerini stared at the sad little lump of fur on the ground, trying to fathom the unfathomable. No more Boo. _No!_ She was suddenly reminded of something else, something completely different, something that also shouldn’t have happened, but still had. Reiltar. Another cell, and hot breath licking against her skin, cold fingers touching… _NO! I don’t want to see…don’t want to remember that!_ But she did, and it didn’t drive her insane, not this time. And now, as she heard the icy tinkle of Aerie’s laughter ascending the staircase, intermingled with Minsc’s despairing howls, she knew why she had been reminded of that past suffering. Reiltar had also wanted to cause hurt, but he had been an amateur compared to Aerie. And she had had Edwin to come back to…but Minsc…

Minsc was shaking the bars of the cell, desperately trying to tear them apart, and his howls were those of a wounded beast. Large tears were flowing down his face, and the veins on his neck seemed as thick as ropes. He was berserk, and at any moment he might turn upon her and her friends, slaughtering them all in his terrible, maddening grief. But that wasn’t the most important thing right now. _His Witch. I’m his Witch, and he’d die for me if necessary. I owe this to him._

“Minsc…” The half-elf could hear the deep sadness in her own voice, and she hoped Minsc could hear it as well. She reached up to put her arm around the big man’s shoulder, though it didn’t even reach halfway around him. “Minsc…I’m so sorry.”

At first Minsc just snarled, and Rini feared that he might attack. But then some measure of sanity slowly crept back into his eyes. “Boo? Where is my Boo?” 

Rini held onto him, touching his wet cheek gently, willing herself not to look at the remains of the hamster. _He needs to know, to understand the truth…but not all at once, it’s too much for him._ “Minsc…Boo is…he’s…” 

_Dead meat? Hamster mush? A very small rug?_

_Softy, that is not helping! Imagine how I would feel if that had happened to you!_

The cat’s clear green eyes looked infinitely puzzled as she licked her paw. _What of it? That is completely different._

_Oh yeah? In what way?_

_Because I am a cat_ , Softpaws said, obviously convinced that the statement said all that needed to be said. _The pinnacle of existence? Meant to be worshipped by all?_

Zaerini sighed. _Never mind. I’m trying to help Minsc here, so can you just try not to…_

“Boo? Boo!” Minsc’s hearty bellow, right next to her sensitive ears, made Rini wince a little. Oddly enough, he didn’t sound crushed with grief anymore…instead he sounded…eager? “Look Little Rini, look! Boo is all right! Ah, I should have known that there is no way for Evil to stomp out the mighty team that is Minsc and Boo and you, and may the Foot of Evil get infested with the Fungus of Goodness for trying!” 

“Minsc,” Zaerini said, “I’m really sorry to have to say this, but Boo is…” Then she broke off. Boo was slowly crawling across the floor, towards the cell, and although his left hind leg was clearly out of order, his fur matted with blood and one of his ears had been flattened, he was very much alive. _But…but that’s impossible! He was squashed flat, I know it, I saw it! He couldn’t have survived that!_

She didn’t say this though, she just watched, her mouth gaping open, as Minsc picked the hamster up, fussing and crooning over him, and urging booth Jaheira and Anomen to help see to the hamster’s injuries. One after the other, she looked at the rest of her friends, and saw the same question in their eyes that was in her own heart. _Just what is up with that hamster, anyway?_

-*-

The answer to that question was something Zaerini would eventually learn, but this was not the time for it. Nor did she have the luxury of speculating. The following morning, she and her friends were brought under armed guard into the ‘Chamber of High Justice’, a vast marble monstrosity of a building, situated on the outskirts of the Government District. Well inside, they were taken into a fairly large room, and made to stand before an elevated podium, on top of which stood an ostensibly simple chair. Rini didn’t miss out on the fact that it was the only chair in the room though, and that the curious onlookers were seated on hard marble benches, as were the witnesses. She could glimpse Aerie in the crowd, and as the Avariel turned to look at her a sharp, foxlike smile crossed the elf’s delicate face. Clearly, Aerie felt very secure of the outcome of this trial. Rini kept a firm hold of Minsc’s hand, hoping her friend hadn’t spotted Aerie – a berserker charge would not help them right now.

Certainly, Aerie didn’t need to worry about a daring escape plan being carried out, there were enough Amnish legionnaires lined up along the walls that all their collected armor could easily have sunk a small ship. Rini wondered if any of them were in Aerie’s service – it wouldn’t surprise her if at least some of them were. The bard tried to concentrate, to focus, to drown out the murmurs and whispers of the crowd, the sharp smells of leather and armor polish from the soldiers, or the fretful squeak of a chalk against a blackboard as a clerk wrote down the names of her and her friends, for the benefit of the court. _It will work…won’t it? Keldorn will speak up for us, he knows we’re innocent, and his words carry great weight. It was what the cards foretold…wasn’t it? That he’d help turn disaster away somehow?_

Keldorn was present, sitting close to the right of where she stood, and the old paladin sent her a brief and reassuring smile. Of course, he would probably try to reassure her independent on how things were going, wouldn’t he? _And I can sure use it._ She stretched her hand out, until she could touch Edwina’s, and felt the wizard squeezing her fingers back. Her lover’s skin felt cool though, she was undoubtedly nervous, and no wonder. _If Aerie gets her wish, then Edwina and I will be wishing we’d been granted a plain old execution._

“Attention!” The speaker was a plump man in sober dark blue robes, and with a few strands of once-dark hair desperately clinging to his emerging scalp, like wet seaweed to a jutting rock. “This is the trial of Zaerini of Candlekeep and named companions, as charged by the honorable Lord Logum Eckel. The trial will be conducted by our duly appointed representative of the Council of Six, Supreme Judge Dar Gelnik!” 

Silence. More silence. Nervous murmurs, and much frenetic whispering among the many clerks who were lined up around the empty chair followed the silence. Quite a few of them fiddled with their scrolls and books of law as if they expected the missing judge to mysteriously be found inside of them. Zaerini could just make out the sharp whisper passed along to the head clerk by a frantic-looking and red-cheeked young man who half sneaked, half scuttled into the room with a very embarrassed look on his face. “The Judge…he can’t be found, Sir! His servants haven’t seen him since yesterday evening, they’re all quite frantic!” 

“Well, what of his subordinates? What of Edric Saurin or Ander Vitt?” 

The nervous-looking young man swallowed heavily, and it was a few moments before he could get the words out. “Disaster, Sir! Edric Saurin has taken violently ill…he’s been spending most of the night with his head down the privy. They’ve had a cleric over, but so far no luck at all.”

“And Ander Vitt?” 

“Was found in a dockside tavern and had taken enough Black Lotus that he claimed to be the Queen of the Elves.”

“Oh. That is bad.” 

“Yes sir. The dress he had on didn’t really suit him either, I always thought green was a bad color for him…” 

“Ah,” the clerk said, looking very disconcerted. He cleared his throat. “Well, in that case, I suppose we will just have to send for one of the judges from another district…”

“That won’t be necessary, young man.” The frail, tremulous voice had come from the door, and as Zaerini followed the example of the rest of the crowd and turned her head in that direction, she spotted an extremely elderly looking man standing there. If he were less than ninety, she would have been very surprised. A fluffy fringe of pure white hair surrounded his bald head like drifts of cloud around a tall mountain, and his equally white eyebrows were so thick and tangled that the eyes themselves were barely visible. The same went for the drooping moustache that made it look as if he was speaking through a thick snow-covered hedge. The ancient man’s hands, covered in woolly mittens with the fingers cut off, were trembling continuously, and he was leaning on a heavy cane. It looked as if he was cold too – the high-collared white robe he was wearing was apparently not enough for him, for there was a thick scarf wrapped around his throat as well. 

“Oh dear,” Keldorn murmured. The paladin sounded seriously distressed. “This is unfortunate – Judge Gelnik is said to be extremely fond of death sentences. It would have been to our advantage if he had not been here, but…” 

_But somehow, the plan failed._ Rini turned towards Edwina and noticed that the wizard had gone very pale. Clearly, she had come to the same conclusion and was already fearing for her teacher’s life. She’d been nervous enough already, and the head of cabbage that Aerie had made the jailers throw into their cell in the middle of the night hadn’t really helped her nerves at all. She’d been having horrible nightmares for what remained of that night, now and then waking up with a scream. Wordlessly, Rini reached out to grasp her lover’s hand, holding it tightly. 

“Your Honor!” The clerk sounded both relieved and shocked. “We were concerned for your well-being.” 

“Pah!” the old man scoffed. “I’m as sprightly as on my eightieth birthday, and can take care of myself just fine, thank you very much.” He hobbled on up the aisle, and then lowered himself very carefully onto the chair standing on the podium. His breath was wheezing so loudly that it could be heard right across the room, and when it paused Rini momentarily thought he had passed on. “And I’m only delayed,” he continued, “because some inconsiderate young hoodlum attacked me in the night…I woke up locked in the hold of some rotting old wreck of a ship down the Docks.” A sly grin materialized below the drooping mustache. “Good thing it was rotting…wasn’t too difficult to get out of there.” 

“You…picked the lock, Your Honor?”

WHAM! The judge’s cane slammed into the floor, not two inches from the unfortunate clerk’s toes. The man squealed and leapt into the air. 

“Picked the lock?” The judge hissed. “PICKED THE LOCK?! Such is for thieves, for hoodlums, for SCUM OF THE STREETS!” Then his voice turned calm again, almost friendly, if as creaky as a rusted old wheel. “What utter nonsense. I picked the door instead…picked it right apart with this handy little thing.” He patted the cane affectionately, and Rini noticed that the end of it was capped with steel. “An old man’s best friend, you might say. Now then. Shall we get on with the sentencing of these miscreants?” 

“Your Honor!” Keldorn’s deep voice rang out in the room, and the paladin hastily got to his feet. “With all due respect, my young friends here have not yet been tried and found guilty of any crimes, and until such a time you cannot sentence…” 

“Oh, can’t I?” Judge Gelnik said, sounding vaguely disappointed. “Such a shame…the sentencing is so much more fun, isn’t it? I prefer to skip right to it. Oh well, we’ll do it the tedious way then.” There was an ominous glitter of eyes beneath the bushy eyebrows. “And while you do that, I’ll spend my time devising some suitable punishments.” 

_Oh crap. This is really falling apart…_

Zaerini’s misgivings were made even worse as Aerie daintily stepped up to the podium, her lacy white dress elegantly trailing after her. A light flush was in the elf’s cheeks and her eyes were bright. “Your Honor!” she began in her light, breathy voice. “I…I am b-but a humble young woman, and as such unworthy to…to appear in this court…” 

The judge snorted. “Humbug,” he said. “Humbug, my dear.” 

“What?” The tremulousness disappeared from the Avariel’s voice, and for an instant, just for an instant it was replaced with a sharp flash of anger. 

“I said ‘humbug’, my dear lady. You are very worthy to appear before us, very worthy.” The judge leaned forward on his cane, and something about his stance reminded Zaerini of an aging vulture eyeing a rotting carcass. “Please continue…the sooner we get this rubbish out of the way, the sooner we can get to the sentencing part…” 

Zaerini wasn’t surprised at all by the fact that it was Aerie who presented the accusations towards them. Not only did the Avariel have a personal interest, but Lord Logum Eckel, the brother of the dead man, didn’t seem to be in such a condition that he could be trusted to speak coherently. The nobleman sat timidly on his bench, twisting a soggy handkerchief between his fingers, now and then twitching a little. Rini guessed, quite correctly, that Aerie had prepared him well for this mock trial. _Not that it makes much of a difference what he says…not when the judge is already on their side. This is all going wrong, and it’s all my fault! Should have fought to escape after all…_

WHAM! The half-elf startled violently as the steel-capped cane the judge was wielding slammed into the floor with deadly accuracy, right between her feet. If it had hit, she would have lost a toe or two. 

“Pay attention, girl!” the terrible old man with the drooping white mustache hissed from within the depths of his white robe of office. “Young people today…always daydreaming, never paying attention to what’s right in front of them. Deplorable, if you ask me.”

“Yes, your Honor,” Zaerini said. “But…” 

“Silence!” There was the faint hint of a satisfied smirk beneath the mustache now. “This, my dear girl, is the courtroom of Judge Gelnik, in case the fact had slipped your mind. And so, the only voice that matters here is that of Judge Gelnik, and his will is supreme, and not to be contradicted. Now, who am I?” 

“Er…Judge Gelnik?”

“Very good. See that you don’t forget it.” 

_Kitten?_ Softpaws sounded seriously concerned, and the cat pressed herself closely towards Zaerini’s legs beneath the bench. _I think you’d better do what he says._

_Yeah, yeah. It’s not as if I have much of a choice. Still think he’s an old bastard though…_

“Now, back to business,” the judge crisply went on, turning towards Aerie. The Avariel was frowning a little, as if she was feeling a little out of balance. _But how can that be? She’s bought him off already…hasn’t she?_ “You, Lady Aerie, have leveled certain accusations towards these people. Let me summarize. They have killed what’s-his-name…Lord Logum’s brother, that is. They have abducted you from the circus that was your safe haven, after murdering your adopted uncle, one ‘Quayle’, and then they abandoned you in the streets. What else…oh, ‘Illegal Use of Magic’, always a popular one if you want a nasty punishment. Oh, and here’s a good one. Being Evil.” He chuckled. “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn how ‘Evil’ they are – what matters is if they have broken the law. Let’s find that out, shall we? This is how it goes. You detail the accusations, we examine the proof, and the accused may speak in their defense.” He chuckled again, a dry, rasping sound. “I believe Sir Keldorn Firecam means to speak on their behalf…but, seeing how guilty they apparently are, there will undoubtedly be heaps of evidence against them, won’t there?” 

Aerie blinked, and her frown deepened a little. “I…I am but a young w-woman your Honor, unaccustomed to…to matters of law, and…and overwhelmed by the wicked crimes committed by these…people.” 

“There, there, my dear,” the judge sympathetically said, patting the elf on the arm. “I have no doubt you will perform magnificently. Let’s take one thing at a time, shall we? First, the murder of Lord Logum’s brother. What evidence do you bring against the accused?” 

“Evidence?” Aerie said, and now there was definitely an annoyed tone to her voice. 

“Yes, my dear. Evidence. Tedious, I know, but it is sort of required before I can pass a sentence. But not to worry, given the evil nature of these young hooligans I’m sure you have heaps of it ready and waiting.” The judge watched Aerie curiously, eyes glittering beneath his bushy white eyebrows. 

Aerie nodded curtly, and then started giving a heavily edited version of the events of the night of the fatal masquerade ball. Once she was finished, Keldorn stepped forward, bowing deeply to Judge Gelnik. 

“Your Honor,” the paladin said. “Truly there has been grave evil afoot here, but it is not caused by my young friends here. Indeed, only one of them was even present at the ball that night, this young lady here.” He gestured towards Edwina. “Nor does being present at the event make her guilty of the death of Fedric Eckel. But as for the others, let me put it to you that there will be no witnesses found placing them at the party, simply because they were not there. Instead, they were at the Five Flagons of the Bridge District, and if necessary, witnesses may be produced to confirm this.” He cleared his throat. “I believe that especially young Zaerini over there was witnessed dancing with her trusty friend, Minsc.” 

“Oh yes!” Minsc cut in. “Minsc danced with his Witch, and Boo helped him not to stomp her toes!” Then, his face darkened. “But Evil Aerie tried to stomp Boo into Hamster Mush! If you can stomp an innocent hamster, you can do any Evil.” 

Aerie’s face was an immobile mask as she listened to this, and she said nothing in response. 

“Moving on then,” Keldorn said, “to Edwina Odesseiron, who was present at the masquerade ball and does not deny it.” 

“I don’t?” Edwina whispered. 

“It’s not as if it’d do any good,” Rini murmured in reply. “Too many witnesses saw you there.” 

“Now,” Keldorn said, “from Lady Aerie’s testimony I understand that she, herself, was not present at the scene of young Eckel’s death, and only arrived after the fact. Thus, her testimony is at best guesswork. She had been involved in a…heated exchange with Edwina Odesseiron mere minutes before, and so it was perhaps a natural conclusion to make, one that may be forgiven her.” 

“I don’t guess!” Aerie said, and now her voice was sharp, and her blue eyes icy. She’d forgotten to stutter as well, Zaerini noticed. “I know what I know, and I tell you the wizard did it!” 

“But how?” Keldorn asked. “From the documents put forth, I am given to understand that she was casting a spell at the time, keeping the guards of the house away from her.” Significant pause. “In a non-lethal fashion, I might add. But it was no spell that killed young Eckel. I call upon the cleric who first examined the body, that we may better understand what did.” 

The cleric turned out to be a sturdy woman in her late forties, with short and curly brown hair and a slight overbite. There was a definite no-nonsense air about her, as she described the state of Fedric Eckel’s corpse. “Poison,” she firmly stated. “No doubt about it. Nasty one too, paralyzed him and made his breathing stop almost instantly. A Maztican variant, possibly, but there are many plants that cause a similar effect. It had been administered by a kind of small dart that had penetrated the skin.” 

“Nasty business,” Judge Gelnik said, leaning forward with great interest. His mustache was quivering just a little bit. “So, no sign of magic then?”

“None.”

“That proves nothing,” Aerie interjected. “She could have thrown that dart…you know she could have! She didn’t have to use magic!” 

“Perhaps,” the cleric said. “But I doubt it. We did perform divinations to attempt to locate the killer. Though we could not make a certain identification, all our scryings hinted that the deed had been done by a woman, but by a woman older than this one, old enough to be her mother even. A dark woman, and a dangerous one.”

Judge Gelnik shook his head. “Well, my dear,” he told Aerie. “I suppose that settles that. Seems everything points in the direction of this ‘mystery woman’.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Do let me know if you catch her though…sounds just like my type.” 

“But…” Aerie began, her mouth partially open. “But…you…you can’t do this!” 

WHAM! 

This time, the cane hit the ground just before Aerie’s toes, and the Avariel leapt backwards with a startled ‘Eeek!” 

“As I told the other young lady before,” the judge went on in a deceptively friendly voice, “this is the courtroom of Judge Gelnik, in which he does exactly as he pleases. And who am I, hmm?”

“J-j-judge Gelnik?” Aerie stammered. This time around, her stutter actually sounded genuine. “But you…” Then she bit her lip. If she had intended to remind the old man of whatever deal they had previously made, she must have realized that doing so publicly would be a very bad idea. “Very well,” she said in a cool voice. “We will perhaps discuss this later. Now, what about my poor Uncle Quayle?” 

“Yes?” the Judge kindly asked. “What of him? Please explain what happened to him, my dear.” 

As if on cue, Aerie’s blue eyes went very wide and shiny. Then, a few silvery tears started trickling down her cheeks. _That’s a very neat trick_ , Rini thought. Should be useful on stage. _And she does it without sobbing, or wrinkling her face up, or getting her eyes red. Wonder if it’s a spell or a regular stage trick? Almost a pity I can’t ask her._

“The…the circus was attacked,” Aerie said in a small and pitiful voice. “There was this g-gnome…Kalah. He did that, released his…his m-magic on us all. And then they came, and I thought they were heroes…that I could trust them! They killed Kalah…but they killed my poor Uncle Quayle as well, blasting him with…with their magic!” There were resentful murmurs from among the crowd of the courtroom. “And then,” Aerie sorrowfully went on, “then they…they m-made me come with them, to…to serve them and heal them when they were hurt…to carry their…their heavy things.” She raised her pale, delicate arms appealingly towards the judge. “Until…until they could find a cleric more…to their liking, I guess.” She sobbed. “They probably meant to kill me too, once they had no f-further use for me…they kept…making jokes about it!” Another angry murmur, louder this time. “Surely that is proof enough of their wickedness?” 

“Deceitful creature,” Zaerini could hear Anomen murmur. “Were it Helm she served, rather than her own vile goddess, she would soon regret making such false accusations!”

“Yeah, Ano…but if it were Helm she served, we wouldn’t be here to begin with, would we?” 

Keldorn cleared his throat. “The lady makes an emotional appeal,” he said. “However, once again, she has not bothered to provide us with any actual proof. That her uncle is dead is beyond doubt, but what proof is there that the Lady Aerie is right in her assumptions? She was, naturally, quite distraught at the time, and she could easily have been mistaken. It might just as well have been the gnome Kalah who slew her poor uncle, and in the confusion of the battle, she misread what she saw. The gnome was said to be a master of illusions, after all. Also, I put it to you that she was mistaken about my young friends here wanting to cause her harm. They did indeed bring her along with them – as charity towards one destitute and in need of aid. Now, it is natural that a frail young woman should be easily concerned and fearful, worried to be abandoned…but her fears were unfounded, were they not?” 

“But…” Aerie said. 

“Aye,” Keldorn went on, raising his voice. “For my friends were joined by another healer, my own young brother in the Order, Squire Anomen Delryn. Would Helm faithfully hold his hand over him, were he a foul would-be murderer of innocent young girls? I say NO!” The paladin beckoned Anomen towards him, and the priest stepped forward, looking a little uncertain. “Anomen Delryn, priest of Helm,” Keldorn formally said, bowing to the younger man. “I would ask you to deliver Helm’s blessing unto this court, and unto His Honor, Judge Gelnik”

“The spell?” Anomen asked. 

“No, just the regular blessing. And hold out your holy symbol as you do it. There must be no accusations of illicit influencing of the judge, do you understand me?”

Anomen nodded and took out the small ‘eye in gauntlet’ symbol he had hanging around his throat. “In the name of my Lord Helm, the Great Watcher, I bless the judge of this court,” he said. “May his life be long, his judgment sound and his duties carried out with full devotion.” 

“And his loins fruitful!” Jan piped up. “That’s always a good one…especially if it’s turnips…” Then he fell silent as Jaheira clamped a hand firmly across his mouth. 

There were a few moments of silence. “Well,” Judge Gelnik said, after a considering look at Anomen. Jan he ignored entirely, to Zaerini’s relief. “Helm doesn’t seem to have struck you down for blasphemy, young man…so I presume you are what you appear to be. While I doubt my life will be all that much longer, I appreciate the thought – and I always paid much devotion to my duties.” There was a rather disturbing glint in his eyes, beneath the bushy eyebrows. “No miscreant ever got past me. As for my loins, and their hypothetical fruits, let’s leave them out of this for the moment, shall we? Including the turnips.” He rubbed a little at his moustache, as if it were itching, and then fixed Edwina with a penetrating stare. “About the ‘Illegal Use of Magic’ charge…a certain document was submitted anonymously to the court only today.” He held up a roll of parchment, with a red tassel hanging from it. “It is a magical license, in the name of one ‘Edwina Odesseiron’, and it is dated three weeks ago. I presume you simply forgot to submit it to the court yourself, didn’t you?” 

Edwina’s mouth was hanging open a little. “Er…yes?” she eventually managed. “Yes, yes, of course! Magical license…don’t leave home without it!” 

“See that you don’t.” There was a narrow smile beneath the moustache. “Well, that settles that. I have heard quite enough, I think. I’m an old man, and I need my naps…not to mention quite frequent visits to the privy. The curses of advancing age, isn’t that so, Sir Keldorn?” 

“What?” the paladin said, blinking. 

“As is failing hearing, or so I am told.” The smile was still there, looking quite pleased, Rini thought. She found herself holding her breath. “As I said, I have heard enough nonsense and outright lies spoken here today to last me a lifetime. And the verdict is…” 

WHAM! The cane slammed into the floor one final time, and Judge Gelnik spoke. “Not guilty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another plot I had a great deal of fun writing, since I could run wild with it and do exactly as I pleased. Judge Gelnik agrees with me that this is always to be desired.


	110. Transformation Aria

**Cards Reshuffled 110 – Transformation Aria**

_If you’re an adventurer, you’re pretty used to winding up in bad spots. Getting kidnapped, tortured, chased by the local constabulary, getting lost in the Underdark or some other plane, it’s all in a day’s work. In order not to get totally depressed, try to remember that sometimes, everything really does turn out for the best and there is such a thing as a happy ending. Unless, of course, you’re a character in a Jansen tale._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

_Not guilty._ The words echoed in Zaerini’s ears…she didn’t quite dare believe them. Then she turned her head around and saw that she apparently wasn’t the only one who had a hard time believing in the verdict.

“This…this is outrageous!” Aerie protested. There were angry red spots in her cheeks, and her hands were clenched into little fists. She wasn’t stammering either. “You…you senile old fool! What do you think you’re doing?” 

“Why, exactly what I am paid to do – passing a verdict,” Judge Gelnik said. The ancient man was looking highly amused with the livid elf. “A humble servant of the Law, that would be me.” Then the jovial mask dropped, and his voice turned icy. Senile Aerie might have called him, but for all his eccentricities Zaerini didn’t doubt that he was quite sane and knew exactly what he was doing. “And now, you will remove yourself and your trumped-up accusations from this courtroom, young lady, or I will hold you on contempt of court. That would be contempt of me, by the way. Any questions? No? Excellent. Guards, escort this woman and her companion from the premises.” 

Zaerini grinned as a pair of armed soldiers stepped forward on either side of the Avariel. Aerie’s face was white with rage, but she went along. She probably didn’t want to risk an open fight inside the courtroom, since that would entirely destroy the social position she had acquired. However, as she passed Zaerini and the others, her blue eyes turned towards them, hard and cold as chips of ice. “So, you have won the day,” she said. “But believe me…for this there will be a reckoning.” Then she was gone. 

“Good riddance,” Judge Gelnik muttered, scratching at his mustache. “That shrill voice of hers really grated in my ears. Is that a hanging offence, I wonder? No? Pity.” Then he shook his head. “Where was I…oh yes. The accused. Clerk, have the formal release papers written up at once, and I will sign them. Then, have these people brought to my personal office, I want a word with them.” He got to his feet and waved impatiently towards one of the guards. “What are you waiting for, young man? I’m old; I can use a strong arm for support. Escort me to my office at once, and don’t dawdle. Oh, and then you can fix me some hot tea…I’m parched.” Holding onto the young guard’s arm, he hobbled out of the room and disappeared. 

“Well,” Jaheira slowly said. “That was…interesting. Not quite what I had expected though.” 

Keldorn nodded, rubbing his chin. “Yes, I was surprised myself,” he said. “Judge Gelnik hardly ever finds for the defendant, he likes hangings far too much. Still, it has happened before, and he is both old and eccentric. He must have been taken by some fancy.” 

“I suppose so,” Zaerini said. _But I thought Aerie had bribed him or blackmailed him or whatever? Why would he suddenly risk crossing her like that? He didn’t seem afraid of her either. Maybe he was under so strong mind control that it broke his mind, and he went insane? But he didn’t seem insane either…_

“Whatever the reason,” Edwina said, “we should not linger here a second longer than necessary, in case he should change his mind.”

“Aye,” Anomen agreed. “Once we have those papers in hand, the verdict will stand and no official of Amn will question it, but until then there is still a risk.”

Fortunately, it wasn’t long before a pair of soldiers escorted the adventurers to a spacious and impressive office. There was plenty of dark and solemn furniture, of the kind that is supposed to impress visitors with the superior finances and education of the owner. A miniature gallows stood in one corner, and a straw dummy hung from it, black button eyes staring blankly at nothing. One wall was entirely covered by a bookshelf filled with leather-bound books, another by a painting. The painting depicted a mass execution, Rini noticed. The swirling sky was black with a cloud of ravens, circling a forest of gallows that entirely filled Waukeen’s Promenade. From each and every one a corpse dangled, and there was a long line of people chained to each other being led towards the field of execution, escorted by stern guards in Amnian uniform. “Beautiful piece, isn’t it?” Judge Gelnik said. The old man was sitting behind a vast desk that was empty except for an official-looking document with a fancy red sigil at the bottom. “I think it nicely illustrates how there is no such thing as an innocent person, only one who hasn’t been sentenced yet.” He gave the adventurers a considering look. “You may want to keep that in mind. Next time, you may not be so lucky if you should wind up in here. All in all, it would be better to avoid getting caught altogether, don’t you agree?” 

“Your Honor?” Keldorn said, speaking in a very carefully polite voice. “You…ah…wanted to speak with my young friends here? Do you remember?” 

There was a flash of dark eyes beneath the bushy white eyebrows. “Of course I remember, young man,” the judge snapped. “I haven’t entered my dotage yet, thank you very much. And I will speak with them, but this is not the proper time or place for it. They are weary no doubt and need their rest.” He shrugged. “Besides, the incompetents who roam this place are far too likely to bother us. They may well be eavesdropping on us even now. But at some later point perhaps, I would be very interested to speak with you all regarding today’s events, and especially the…ah…young lady who so vehemently accused you.” He deftly folded the fancy document into a paper bird, and then threw it across the room until it landed in Zaerini’s open hands. “Read it through, carefully and above all quietly,” he said. “Then, once you are done, show it to the guards at the door, and get out of here. And no dawdling, or I may have you all arrested for Loitering with Malicious Intent.”

“But your Honour…” Keldorn protested, looking quite agitated. “I don’t understand…” 

“Don’t interrupt me again, young man.” The judge stroked his drooping mustache with great satisfaction as the paladin fell silent. “You don’t _need_ to understand. You simply need to do as I say and remember that right here and now, I _am_ the Law.” He sighed pleasantly, then leaned back on his chair in a manner that looked very precarious and put his legs up on the desk. “I always wanted a chance to say that…now, read your papers, and then make yourselves scarce.” 

Zaerini carefully unrolled the document and read it through. Everything seemed to be in order, the charges against her and her friends had all been dropped, and the judge had signed the release paper. And then she noticed it. There was another note, a smaller one, that had been inserted into the rolled-up scroll. There was a single sentence written down on it. Zaerini turned around and stared at the decrepit-looking man behind the desk, feeling her mouth slowly drop open. _No…no, that’s just impossible!_

And then Judge Gelnik winked at her, and she knew that it wasn’t. 

“Edwina…” Zaerini said, her voice very slow and careful. “I want you to do something for me, no questions asked. All right?” 

The wizard looked concerned; her dark eyes large with worry. “Hellkitten? Is something wrong?”

“Huh?” Rini said, hardly hearing her lover. How could I have been so blind? “Oh. No. Not really. I just want you to…make sure we won’t be disturbed, if you see what I mean. Please?” 

Edwina nodded, and raised her hands. A few quietly murmured words later, and she smiled with satisfaction. “There,” she said. “No pitiful Cowled Wizard or snooping servant could possibly penetrate these wards. None will hear anything spoken in this room, and should anybody approach, I will know it.” 

“Good…” the half-elf said, moving across the floor in the absent way of a sleepwalker. “Thanks…” 

_Kitten?_ Softpaws sounded as concerned as Edwina did, and she wound herself around Rini’s ankles in a way that almost tripped her up. _You feel very strange. Are you sure you’re all right?_

_Sure. Yes. Sure. Just watch me._ She was standing directly in front of Judge Gelnik now. The old man was still seated at the desk, and she thought that she could make out the hint of a smile beneath that humongous mustache. “Got enough glue to spare?” she asked, surprised at how calm her voice sounded. “Otherwise I won’t do this, much as I want to.” 

“Of course I do,” the Judge said, nodding. 

“Good. I’d hate to have to pass on this one.” She reached up her hand, still feeling oddly disconnected from her body, as if the walls of reality had come crashing down on top of her. Reached towards the white mass of hair in front of her. 

“Child?” Jaheira’s voice was sharp, alarmed, and now the druid’s swift footsteps could be heard from behind her. “What foolishness is this…” 

And Zaerini tugged, and the mustache came clear off, even as the face beneath it relaxed into a different one altogether, pretense set aside. The eyebrows he removed himself, and the bald-cap with the wig of white hair surrounding it. “Nice and dramatic, girl” ‘Judge Gelnik’ said. “But you have to admit, if I hadn’t given you a hint, you still wouldn’t have guessed.” 

There was a strange sound coming from Edwina, one that sounded more than anything like a strangled squeal. “Teacher DEKARAS?!”

-*-

Aerie was angry. No, not just angry. ENRAGED! How could things have gone so wrong, so quickly? She had had everything well in hand, and then; somehow, the Bhaalspawn and the wizard had slipped right out from between her grasping fingers. Something was wrong here, very wrong. Judge Gelnik had been completely and entirely on her side, she hadn’t even needed to tamper with him in the first place. Why, the old man had practically been champing at the bit, so eager had he been to help. He might not have been a Loviataran himself, but by the Goddess, he did enjoy watching people hang. And now…this? 

_They got to him. They got to him and tampered with him, somehow. But how? They were all locked up!_ Then it came to her, and she dug her nails deeply into her palms, hard enough to draw blood. The pain was good, it helped clear her mind. _No. Not them. Him. It was_ him _again, it has to be. This whole deal has his stink all over it._ And so it did, now that she could think back on it. That subtle feeling of wrongness, that had been present all through the trial, the feeling that she was standing on top of a slippery rug that her invisible foe was about to yank out from under her feet. She didn’t know how it had been accomplished, and it hardly mattered. What mattered was that she had been humiliated and defeated. Again. 

“But the third time is the charm, assassin,” Aerie murmured, and the cold fire in her blue eyes might well have made a demon flinch. “Third time pays for all, and with interest.” 

_Your confidence is foolishness, elf._ The Hidden spoke within her mind, pale lips never moving. The Illithid emissary was still maintaining the illusion of a human form, that of a plain and unassuming businessman in fine but drab clothing. _Had I come with you to this ‘court’, as I suggested, I would have been able to influence matters to your liking. As it is, you have lost your prize. Also, you have squandered our resources._

His foot, in its beautifully embroidered slipper, reached out to nudge the corpse lying on the floor. The blood had mostly stopped flowing, but even his closest relatives would have found it difficult to recognize Lord Logum Eckel by now. 

“His pathetic ranting wearied me,” Aerie coolly remarked. “Have a care that you do not do the same.” True, she had lost her temper, but that had been understandable under the circumstances. Also, the pain she had inflicted had greatly strengthened her, and granted new favor from her Mistress. 

Lord Logum Eckel had looked pained, but worshipful still, and that was the beauty of it, really. That he should love her, and hate her, and yet love her to the end, unable to be free of her. “My…my love…my precious…it matters not. You still have me. We…we still have each other. You are beautiful, and brilliant, and wise, a Goddess walking the world, and I am unworthy of even looking upon your perfect face! All you stand against you will fall, surely! And I will love you, and guard you, and protect you, forever…” There had been a smile on his face, a desperate, pleading, utterly repulsive smile. 

“I do not need anybody’s protection,” so she had told him. “And forever is for me, not for you.” And then she had begun with him. It had been a long while before she finished though, and his screams, muffled as they had been after his tongue was removed, had been the sweetest of music. 

And now this Illithid dared chastise her over her termination of her own thrall? Perhaps it would indeed be for the best to terminate the alliance. “Get out,” she told The Hidden. “Invade Athkatla with your slithering brethren, as best you can. No longer will I aid you in gathering the willing pawns into your traps.”

She could feel the mind probe battering at the wards around her mind, attempting to slide in, to modify her, and she smiled, her mouth a small rosebud against her pale skin. The creature was strong, but her mind was well capable of resisting it, and eventually there was a flare of resentful disappointment and hatred. The Mindflayer knew failure when it saw it. Should she attack it? No, best not to. She needed to keep her mind focused on resisting the psionics, she could not afford to be distracted. 

_Cirindaeriella of the Avariel_ , the Hidden sent to her, a muscle of make-believe flesh twitching as the illusion rippled with strain. _I will go, and you will see me no more. Know that you have made an enemy out of an ally this day._

Now she did slip a lashing of pain through the Mindflayer’s shields, swift and sharp, even if she couldn’t spare enough mental energy to make it fatal. “I have more promising allies and more important enemies than you, squid,” she said, her face serene once more. “And in time, those enemies will suffer.” 

She had the beginnings of an idea already, in fact. 

-*-

Edwina felt her knees buckling a little under her, and she had to use all her willpower to keep upright. She just kept staring at her teacher, trying to assimilate the fact that it was actually he. But of course it was…the makeup he had used was still in place, making his face look older than normal, but she thought a great part of the impression had come from the way he acted out his part. With the wig and false mustache gone, it was impossible to understand how she could have been so fooled. 

“I am sorry I could not tell you in advance,” the assassin said. “You especially, Edwin. But there was little time to spare, and I also thought it would be safer this way. I wanted you all to act normally towards ‘Judge Gelnik’, you see.” 

“Where is the real judge?” Keldorn asked, sounding quite suspicious. “You swore that he would not be harmed!” 

“He isn’t,” Dekaras said, shrugging. “I simply blackjacked him and stowed him away in a safe place where he won’t be found for quite some time.” He smirked. “I understand the good judge is quite keen on the Amnian expeditions to Maztica, so I tied him up and hid him in the hold of a ship heading there. I imagine he’ll be found eventually, but I hardly think the entire ship will be turned around for his sake, and it should be a long time before he can get back to Athkatla, long enough for us to conclude our business here. When you all leave here, I intend for the ‘judge’ to be seen going down to the Docks, and there he will disappear from sight. People will assume he has been mugged, possibly killed.”

“What of our release papers?” Jaheira sternly asked. She had placed her hands on her hips and was glaring directly at the assassin, who pretended not to notice it. That, of course, made her jaw take on an even firmer look. “They are fraudulent, are they not? Will they not they be questioned?”

“Of course not,” Dekaras said. “Quite a few witnesses saw the ‘judge’ finding you ‘not guilty’, and you will have release papers with his signature on it – I took the precaution of acquiring a copy of the real thing from his house before I fetched him, and I’m good enough at counterfeiting that there should be no problems. No need to fret.” 

”I AM NOT FRETTING! I simply believe that certain people are too clever for their own good and are likely to come to a bad ending because of taking foolish risks!” 

“Well,” Zaerini cut in, “At least it worked, didn’t it? Sure, we might have managed with a real judge, but this way was really far better.” She grinned. “Brilliant acting, by the way…if you ever want to switch careers, I can probably offer you a job…did I mention yet that I’ve got a theatre of my own now?” 

“I will keep it in mind,” Dekaras said, his lips quirking into a crooked grin. “Though I am quite satisfied with my current position.” He gave Jaheira a curious look. “Why does it concern you, anyway? I did what was necessary, that is the important thing. The only thing that matters.” 

Edwina swallowed a little. By Jaheira’s stunned look, the druid was feeling entirely baffled by this casual comment. Not Edwina though. Once, perhaps, but not anymore. _He really doesn’t understand it, does he? Why can’t he understand it?_

_Understand what, Boss?_ Insufferable was clinging to her shoulder, the fluffy tail of the little monkey tickling her throat. 

_How much_ he _matters._

She turned her head to see that her teacher was watching her now, looking quite serious. “Edwin,” he said. “We really don’t have much time, you should all leave before the guards start getting suspicious, and I must get back in character and get out of here. But before that, I wanted you to know that Degardan will no longer be a problem.” 

“What?” Edwina asked. “Do you mean…” 

“Yes. He is, you might say, a Dead Wizard. Now, there may be others in time, depending on how intent your former superiors are on punishing you, but for the moment you are safe from the emissaries of Thay.” He reached into that white judge’s outfit he was still wearing. “And…he had something. I cannot be certain it will be of use, but I think it will.” The object was an oddly frail-looking talisman, light and airy, and it spun easily in the air. 

“What is that?” Edwina asked. “I have never seen anything like it.” 

“You wouldn’t have. This was made in Rasheman, for the _Wychlaran_ taking part in the wars against Thay. It is called a ‘Curse Breaker’.” 

Edwina’s heart was beating faster in her chest, and she forced herself to remember to breathe. “A…a Curse Breaker? As in…as in breaking _my_ curse?” 

“Yes,” the assassin said, and he approached, carefully placing the chain around her neck. The talisman felt as light as a feather, barely there. “But you have to understand, I cannot know that it will work. I couldn’t exactly test it in advance.” 

_But it will. It will. I know it will._ Previous anxiety forgotten for the moment; the blissful certainty of childhood settled over Edwina. Of course it would work. Her teacher could fix anything, couldn’t he? Of course he could. Carefully, steadily, almost as if in a trance, she let her fingers glide across the magical object, following the instructions about how to operate it. And then…

Magic. Glorious, seductive magic, rolling over her, coursing through her. Devouring. Cleansing. Changing. Her entire skin was tingling, her muscles tensing up, shifting, and moving. Edwina gasped, and the sound came out in a lower key than she had gotten used to and then…She reached up, touching her face, feeling sharper contours than before and…yes! Yes! YES! Her precious beard was coming back in! Finally, finally she would look properly dignified and intimidating once again! The changes were continuing, her body diminishing in some parts, expanding in others, and what a blessed relief that was. 

Finally, it was done. Edwin looked with wonder at himself, feeling happy enough to burst. “My…my body!” he gasped. “My own, glorious, utterly perfected wonder of a body! (True, even in female form I was stunning, but I much prefer this one.) I am CURED! Cured of my wretched condition at last!” He turned around, practically whooping with joy, and outright leapt into his teacher’s arms, hugging him tightly. “Oh, thank you…thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“You are welcome, boy,” the assassin said, sounding just a little bit strained. “I’m just glad to see you back to normal again.” Then he blinked. “Well, mostly normal.” 

“What?” Edwin asked. “Am I not once again Edwin Odesseiron, the most wonderfully handsome wizard in the world? Do I not once again possess the same face that could blind any female gazing upon its perfection? (Not to mention a stylish beard, and one, I might add, extremely classy nosering?)”

“Oh, your face looks as it should,” Dekaras said, and now he was looking very much amused. “With the exception of that horrible nosering, of course. I think, however, that you may want to remove the eye shadow, rogue, mascara and lipstick before showing yourself in public. 

-*-

Edwin was practically walking on clouds all the way back to the Five Flagons, paying little or no attention to the world around him. More than once Zaerini, who was maintaining a firm grip on his arm, had to pull him forcibly out of the way of an oncoming cart or an inconvenient lamppost. Also, there was a wide and slightly dazed smile on his face, and a glassy look in his eyes. _Finally…finally! I’m myself again, my own glorious, wonderful self! No more dresses, no more makeup, and above all, no more ‘female problems’._

_Glad to hear it, Boss!_ Insufferable cheerfully commented. The little monkey pouted with his lips in what was probably meant to be an imitation kiss. _And speaking of females…isn’t it about time you showed yours a really good time? I’m talking HOT MONKEY LOVE here, Boss! Try showing off your hot bod’ first, like this!_ The monkey flexed a biceps the approximate size of a piece of grain and looked immensely proud. _See?_

_Not a bad idea, monkey. Except that I am of course far less hairy, and extraordinarily more attractive._ Edwin paused. _Though I am certain that to a monkey you would be the most stunning monkey imaginable. You are my familiar after all, it only makes sense._

So elated was he that all problems and worries seemed to have shrunk into insignificant motes of dust, barely perceptible any longer. The troublesome Avariel might well be back at some later point, but for now she had been driven well and truly off, his teacher had promised that he would stop by at some point tomorrow to discuss how to deal with the whole Kangaxx business, mentioning something about ‘if I estimate correctly you probably won’t be good for any serious thinking tonight anyway’, the sun was shining and HE WAS MALE AGAIN! He would have run whooping and hollering down the street if it wasn’t for the fact that awesomely impressive and stylish conjurers really shouldn’t do such a thing in public. _Possibly in private? No…I think I will have her whooping before the night is out. I should get a new robe first of course, this one no longer fits. One with plenty of gold thread…embroidered into patterns depicting my greatness…and sequins! And jewels, lots and lots of them…though no jewel could possibly match the brilliance of her eyes…_

The wizard turned his eyes once again towards the woman walking next to him, and he could feel that dazed smile on his face growing even wider. The half-elf’s fiery red hair was shining in the sunlight, and her wonderful eyes were filled with love. “Feels great, doesn’t it?” she asked, squeezing his arm a little tighter. 

“It is…incomparable,” Edwin replied. “To finally be back to my own, extraordinarily wonderful self…it is enough to make me want to sing and dance and kiss the whole world.” He thought for a moment. “Except, of course, for the Helmite. And the Rashemite. And the gnome…” 

“I’ve got an even better idea,” Zaerini said, and she took hold of his face with one hand. “Why don’t you just settle for kissing _me_?” 

“Why yes, I believe I should be able to just about fit that into my busy schedule of world domination…” 

Here, Edwin’s words were cut off very suddenly, as his lover pulled his head down towards hers and their lips made contact. All coherent thoughts were scattered into sensory fragments such as ‘soft’, ‘silky’, and ‘hot’. It was with great regret that he was eventually forced to draw away to get some air. Dimly, very dimly, he was aware of Jan’s chattering in the background. 

“So, that was a very interesting trial, don’t you think? Never was on trial before, actually. Arrested yes, trial no. Of course, a favorable judge helps…I’m sure my cousin Brandy Jansen would have appreciated having one when he was on trial for Private Disturbance…” 

“Public Disturbance, surely,” Anomen said. He sounded a little strained. 

“Nope, Private Disturbance. He was a mime artist, see, very natural profession for a Jansen, being all quiet and subtle in his approach, and he didn’t get enough of an audience in the streets. So, he figured he’d make house calls instead. Only problem was, nobody wanted to let him in. That didn’t stop cousin Brandy though, he just picked a few locks and performed anyway.” 

“He broke into people’s homes to give them mime performances?” Jaheira said. She sounded repulsed. 

“Oh yes. And when they told him to go away, I’m afraid he told them that they were griffin-loving, turnip-hating scum.” 

” So he did talk then?” 

”No, no. He mimed it. Like this…” 

Brief silence. 

“Jan, that is disgusting!” 

“Oh, that’s nothing, Jae. You should have seen what he told the judge. Very foulmouthed he was, cousin Brandy, but he really punished himself in the end. Poor cousin Brandy got so carried away that he really put his foot in his mouth trying to communicate the judge’s close resemblance to a rabid yeti, and that was the end of him.” 

”How?” Anomen again, sounding morbidly fascinated. 

“Well, Ano, if you’re going to put your foot in your mouth, I’d really recommend washing it first. Foot fungus down your throat is a very sad way to go, you know. Always keep on good terms with your judge so you won’t be tempted to do that, that’s what I’ve always said…” 

Another brief silence. Then Jaheira’s voice again.

“Jan, I think you should follow your cousin’s example. Miming would really suit you.” 

Edwin tuned the voices out, dismissing them as insignificant in the larger scheme of things. He had far more important things on his mind, after all. “Hellkitten?” he whispered. 

”Yes, Dread Wizard?” 

“Tonight, when none of these chattering monkeys are around to disturb us, how about if I give you a stunning display of body language? I believe I could wax quite elaborate too.” _Finally, finally, finally! To get to be with her at last…in my own body!_

Her smile was enough to make him feel as if his spine was melting. “Eddie, I thought you’d never ask.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's baaaaack!


	111. The Lovers

**Cards Reshuffled 111 – The Lovers**

_The Lovers. This Card most commonly represents deep, true love between two people, but also the completed sexual union, and the intimacy that reinforces the bonds of love. A fortunate card under almost all circumstances._

_Excerpt from ‘The Chaltar Deck of Cards – An Introduction’_

Zaerini was nervous. No, scratch nervous. Terrified. Exhilarated as well, and anticipatory, but definitely terrified. True, it wouldn’t be the first time with her lover, not as such, but…

_But that was Edwina. Not Edwin. The same, but…different._ How long had she been waiting for this moment, anyway? It felt like years. _In a way, since the first time I saw him, back in Nashkel._ She smiled fondly as she recalled that first, rather explosive meeting. _Practically ran me over, he did. And insulted me on top of that._

And there had been all those others times, after that, the verbal sparring that had somehow changed, evolved into something else entirely, until she had found herself goading him on not just because they both enjoyed matching wits, but because she wanted to hear the sound of his voice almost as much as he did, or get the chance to stare directly into those wonderful eyes. 

_Or at his wonderful…_

_Softy! I told you, no peeking in! And you can tell Insufferable the same, if Eddie hasn’t already._

_He has._ The cat sounded very smug. _And with a lot of very long words too. But obviously I am different, Kitten. You’ll want some instruction._

_No, I won’t! I’ll manage on my own, thanks._

_Oh, all right._ The cat sounded rather huffy now. _Just remember to claw his face a little if he bites your neck too hard. He’ll expect that._

_Somehow, I don’t think he will. But if he does bite, you have my word that I’ll clout him in the ribs, how’s that?_

There was a reluctant sense of approval along the familiar link. _It will do. Just let him screech and yowl a little first – toms enjoy making themselves look bigger than they actually are._ With that, the cat’s presence faded away, and there was the sense of her going outside, probably to hunt for rats. 

The bard fiddled absently with her scroll case for a few minutes, sorting through its contents. She stopped once she became of the fact that she had been staring at the same Stoneskin scroll for about five minutes, entirely unable to comprehend the runes on it, or even to see them. _Where is he, anyway?_ She picked up a hairbrush, pulling it a few times through her bright red locks, then threw it back into her pack. She picked up a pair of pants (red, tight, really nice) and held them in one hand, then a skirt (black, billowy, also very nice) and held that in her other hand, gazing absently from one to the other, unable to choose. _What’s he doing?_ She’d already agonized for almost ten minutes about what to wear, while the sane part of her brain tried to argue that Edwin would be just as happy if she wore nothing at all. Still, this would be a very special occasion, and she wanted to make it even more so. However, most of the party funds had to go towards Imoen’s ransom, and the rest tended to be used for upgrading their weapons and armor, as well as acquiring magical items, all of those also for the purpose of Imoen’s rescue. A stab of guilt lanced through her stomach as she thought of her best friend, locked up in some nasty Cowled Wizard jail cell, while she herself was happy enough to practically float through the roof. Then she told herself that she was being silly. _Immy knows how much I love him. She’d know how much this means, and she wouldn’t begrudge me being happy. I just wish…I just wish she were here. And that she could have this herself._

No, that was it. This waiting was driving her nuts. If Edwin hadn’t come to her yet, then she would go to him. She knew where to find him too, in Minsc’s room. Normally he would have been in her own quarters of course, they had been sharing for some time now, but he had said he wanted some time alone for ‘preparations’ whatever that meant, and since Minsc was busy giving Boo a very lengthy and very noisy bath in the bathhouse, that meant his room was free. Swiftly, before she could lose her nerve, Zaerini left her room, slamming the door shut behind her. She padded silently along the corridor on bare feet, and eventually reached her destination. _Right. Here goes._ “Edwin?” she called out, even as she knocked on the door. “Can I come in?” 

-*-

Edwin, meanwhile, had been very, very busy. The new robes he had found himself were admirably stylish, and though they weren’t quite the superior Thayvian quality he would have preferred, they were a lovely vivid red, bright enough to satisfy even the delicate and discerning taste of Edwin Odesseiron. The cut was nice too, impressively billowy around the ankles and with a dramatic high collar that he thought made him look appropriately sinister. _Although of course sinister in a handsome and charismatic way. Also, I do believe these robes make my shoulders look broader – not that such is in any way necessary of course!_ It had of course been necessary to add plenty of gold thread and sequins, and by now he had done enough precision embroidery to make his eyes and fingers ache. He was very satisfied with the result though. _And for my next project, more sequins of course. Perhaps some gems as well?_

_Oh, come on, Boss!_ Insufferable said. The fluffy little monkey was sitting on Edwin’s head, playing with a leftover piece of cloth. Currently, he had tied it around his neck to form a little cloak and he kept flourishing it proudly. _You should just do it the simple, basic way. Make hooting noises and show off your rippling fur!_

_Suffy, I must once again inform you that outside of extremely bad novels only simians such as yourself have ‘rippling fur’, a fact for which I am immensely grateful, since I cannot bring myself to believe that any woman would wish to couple with a creature resembling a yeti._

_Oh, all right. Wait, here’s a good one! See, what you do is this…_ The monkey started wiggling his lower body about, while he simultaneously pointed meaningfully at his crotch and grinned maniacally. _Oooooh, the Love Monkey strikes again…or you could ask her to play ‘Find the Banana!’_

_Absolutely not! I told you, human mating procedures are not the same as monkey ones! Not to mention that those ridiculous gestures could only have been invented by a demented monkey! She would think I had gone insane._

_Wait, wait, I’ve got another one! How about if you flex your bottom at her, really showing it off? That’s what baboons do; you know._

_NO! Now be silent, I need to finish this._ Edwin mentally went through his checklist again. Lovely robes, check. Clean underwear, check. He had had a thorough bath, a haircut, and a beard trim, along with manly aftershave. Teeth clean, check. Nails clean, check, even though getting a proper pedicure in these barbarian climes was really hopeless, so he’d had to cut his own toenails. Nothing to do about it though. Edwin stared nervously at himself in the mirror. Yes, he looked perfect, his own impeccable self, but…but… _Suppose I have forgotten something? Something vital and critical, something that will make her run screaming when she notices?_ Yes, he’d made love to his beloved Hellkitten before, but…he had been a she then. A hideous thought occurred to him. _Suppose she prefers me that way? Suppose she doesn’t want to…_

A knock on the door, a familiar voice outside, and Edwin barely managed to suppress a squeak. _It’s HER! Suffy, remember what I told you – no interference._

_Whatever, Boss_ , the monkey said. _I still think you should do the crotch-grab thing, but it’s your loss, I guess…good luck!_

Edwin cleared his throat, trying to sound calm and dignified. “Ah…come in!” 

The door opened, and Edwin felt most of his blood leaving his brain, on its way elsewhere. “Uhhh…” he said, staring with his mouth open. 

Zaerini was standing in the open door, shuffling her feet a little awkwardly. Edwin could see that her cheeks were adorably flushed, and her flame-red hair was looking even more wild and disorderly than normal, as if she’d been running her fingers through it. She was wearing a clean white shirt, and it was unbuttoned enough that the wizard could catch tantalizing glimpses of pale skin now and then. The little hollow at her throat. The collarbone. _And then…oh yes, there we are. So…perfect…_ His admiring glances moved downwards, falling upon a shapely expanse of bare legs, long and slender. _Magnificent! Utterly magnificent! And even more so for not…_ “Mmffrrrll?” Edwin said as his stunned brain tried to response to what he was seeing. “Ffllyp?” 

-*-

Minsc’s room was fairly large, suitable for such a big man. It was dominated by a vast bed, one that currently looked as if a seamstress had set up shop on it. Red cloth, several spools of gold thread, needles and scissors, not to mention a large jar of sequins all competed for space with a large collection of pleasantly smelling jars and bottles. Insufferable had unscrewed one of them and was sitting on the bed rubbing what looked like wax into his fluffy fur, forming it into spikes. The vast majority of her attention was focused on Edwin though. 

The wizard was standing next to the mirror hanging on the wall and had apparently been in the process of admiring himself. Rini actually had to blink in order to be able to see him properly, what with all the glittering things he had sewn onto his robes she was nearly blinded. She thought they were still red somewhere underneath all the sequins and gold thread, but it was rather hard to tell. As for Edwin himself, he must have come directly from a bath, since his hair was still slightly damp. Her fingers itched with the desire to play with it. And he had done something with his beard…was that wax in his mustache? A strong scent hung in the air about him, not unpleasant but definitely penetrating. Something spicy. He was looking at her, an oddly glassy look. _Oh Gods. Why isn’t he saying anything? Is something wrong? Did I mess up somehow?_

She looked down at herself. Hair…not combed, exactly. Well, it had been, until she started fretting. Shirt clean at least, and it was a very nice one, with lace around the collar. Pants…no pants. No skirt either. No…no nothing. Just bare legs and…bare… _Please, please, please let it just be unusually drafty in here. Please tell me I didn’t just waltz in here wearing nothing but a shirt. OK, that’s not working. Say something. Say something witty and clever and charming, to save face._ “Uh…heh…” Rini stammered, a feeble smile on her face. “I…er…seem to have left my pants behind in my room…I…er…got impatient and wanted to see you. Um…that’s a lot of sequins…”

Edwin was still staring at her, his eyes darting rapidly back and forth between her face and the place where her pants ought to have been. Under the circumstances she couldn’t really blame him. “Ah…yes…” he managed. “I mean to eventually have them make patterns depicting all my brilliant accomplishments and acts of bedazzling magic.” His fingers twitched towards his mustache, and the carefully formed shape of it deteriorated as he fingered it nervously. “I…ah…hope you approve. I wanted this to be special…” Then he blinked, and a genuine smile spread across his face. “You…were impatient enough that you forgot about getting dressed?” 

“Afraid so.” Her heart was beating faster now, and she could feel herself smiling as well, smiling for real this time. “And you…you spent hours making yourself sparkly for my sake? And waxed your beard?” She took a few steps closer, close enough that she had to look up to see him nod proudly. “Oh Eddie…I do love you; I hope you know that.” She winked up at him. “I don’t suppose you’ll let me paint glitter on your toenails to make the image complete? We could make it gold glitter?” 

“Absolutely not,” Edwin said, but the haughtiness in his voice was offset by the way his arms suddenly wrapped themselves around her waist, pulling her even closer. “Such is not for Edwin Odesseiron, the King of Fashion and Taste. Besides, we do not have the time for frivolous things. You, my Hellkitten, are dangerously exposed, and that simply will not do. If you get cold, you might catch some horrible disease. So, I will take the burden upon myself to warm you up.” 

Rini sighed happily, pressing herself a little closer yet, luxuriating in the close contact, feeling the contours of his body beneath the soft robe. As she did so, she felt him catch his breath for a moment, and his eyes went momentarily unfocused. Her skin was tingling, wanting his touch, needing it, needing it badly enough that she was almost ready to beg for it. “Actually,” she whispered. “You seem to be doing a pretty good job of that already. But then again, better to be on the safe side, right?” 

“Oh yes,” Edwin readily agreed, even as Rini noticed that a waxed mustache tickled quite a bit more than a natural one. One of his hands had wandered under her shirt and was very busy there, doing things that suddenly made her give a little gasp of pleasure. _Yep. Definitely warming up already._ “Safe. Safe is…good.” He gave her a hopeful look. “Bed is better?” 

“What? That’s Minsc’s bed!”

“He’s not here,” Edwin said, using one of his legs to kick the door shut, after he had shooed the protesting Insufferable outside. Then his free hand made a few brief gestures and he murmured something. “And he won’t be here either, not unless he can unseal a magically locked door. Also, he hasn’t slept in this bed yet, it was made fresh today. (I could not take the risk of getting hamster hair or worse onto my precious robes after all.)” 

Zaerini thought that perhaps she ought to protest some more about occupying poor Minsc’s bed in this fashion. Then, Edwin bent down and kissed her throat, and she promptly forgot all about her scruples. _Never mind…it’s not as if we’ll break the bed or anything…_ She sat down on the bed, having first shoved all of Edwin’s sewing implements off of it, and slowly began to unbutton her shirt, but her fingers were shaking so badly that she couldn’t quite manage it. 

“No,” Edwin said, sitting down beside her. “Allow me.” With that, he set about his task, and the look of awe, nervousness and joy on his face reminded the half-elf of a small child about to unwrap a long-awaited birthday present. There was nothing childish about the way his fingers trailed encouraging patterns along her skin though, and she half expected little sparks of lightning to fly from them whenever contact was made. As his hand cupped her breast, she couldn’t quite hold back a little moan of pleasure, and she pulled him closer, eager to see all of him. 

“Better watch out, Dread Wizard,” she breathed against his ear. “If you excite me too much, I might just lose it completely and _tear_ your robes off.” 

“The erotic onslaught of Edwin Odesseiron can be quite overwhelming, of course,” he solemnly agreed. “But fear not, I am in a magnanimous mood today and will forgive you any such displays of wild and untamed behavior, provided I can leave you gasping for more.” The kisses were moving lower down now, and meanwhile one of his hands was paying particular attention to her thigh, stroking in rhythmical motions. The pleasure was building, a hot whirlwind deep inside her belly, spinning faster and faster, and she wanted to be completely swept up by it, to dance and whirl and be totally lost to the rest of the world. _Except to him. Never to him._

He was undressed now, and so was she, and there was the silky feeling of skin against skin, of pressing herself closer towards him as if they might melt into each other completely. No, her love was not a model of muscular manly appeal perhaps, but to her eyes he was perfect, scrawny though a more critical eye might find him. _Don’t care ‘bout big muscles anyway. What he has is just right for him._ One of her hands was entangled in his dark hair, holding on tightly, and the other went exploring across his body, seeking out all the little secret spots of pleasure. She knew where she was heading of course, and so did he, for she could feel him trembling a little even before she reached her goal. “Mmm…” she murmured. “What…have we here?” 

Edwin was quite red in the face by now, but he didn’t cease with what he was doing, and she found herself automatically undulating, unable to keep still. _Need. More. Need!_ “You know what it is, you imp,” he barely managed. “Don’t tell me…aaagh! Don’t tell me you spent all those years in a library without looking up the appropriate books!” 

“Well…maybe. And Immy found the ones I didn’t. So…like it?” 

“Oh yes,” Edwin fervently said. He bent forward again, kissing her mouth this time, and she could spot little drops of sweat on his forehead. “But patience…I want you to be fully ready. As a dedicated master in the art of lovemaking it would be unthinkable to leave you wanting in order to hurry things along. Only the basest of simians would do that.” His hands were suddenly even more busy than before, and he was actually concentrating hard enough that he was sticking his tongue out a little of the corner of his mouth. 

Not that Rini noticed. The whirlwind was spinning even faster now, and she was dancing with it, caught between a cry and a laugh. Her vision was getting a little blurry, and although great gulps of breath raced in and out of her lungs it felt as if she couldn’t quite keep up. “Love you…” she murmured. “Love you so much…” 

“As I love you,” he whispered, and his fingers pushed her sweaty hair out of her eyes. “Now…let me know if you are ready.” 

She couldn’t quite get the words out, but she managed an empathic nod. And then he was closer still, gently drawing her towards him, and they were melding together, joined as one. It hurt a little at first, but nothing she couldn’t cope with. The pleasure increased again as they moved together in the perfect rhythm of two dancers fully matched against each other, with the endless pull of the moon on the sea, with the consuming heat of a raging brushfire. 

It ended eventually, as all such things much end, and they lay together, her back resting against his chest, his arms firmly wrapped around her. “I had planned,” Edwin murmured into her hair, “to perform a cantrip in order to make little glittering motes of light encircle you at the height of passion. However, it seems that the overpowering sensuality and tender ministrations of my Hellkitten quite managed to make me forget about that. (I’ve been waiting so long for this…far too long. But it was all worth it.)” 

Rini laughed quietly and nestled a little closer towards him. “Didn’t have to…I think I saw stars as it was. Don’t think I ever forgot to breathe before.” 

“Ah. Er…of course. And did the earth move? I understand that is the optimal result of an encounter with a skilled and devoted lover such as myself.” 

“Well…maybe a little,” Rini said, grinning. “Now and then.” 

“A _little_? Now and then? That settles it. We will not leave this room until a perfect result has been achieved, even if it has to take all night! (Not that I will mind the chore, not at all. The look of ecstasy on her face will be a fully satisfactory reward.)” 

As he made an enthusiastic effort to get himself into a kneeling position, Zaerini’s sharp ears picked up on a small, creaking noise. It was getting rapidly louder though, and it was coming from beneath her. Now it was shifting into a splintering sound. “Uh…Eddie? I think that…” 

The earth, or to be more exact the bed, moved. Most of the bottom of the bed splintered and broke, crashing to the ground in a confused mixture of broken boards, bedclothes, bard and Red Wizard. For a few seconds, the surprised pair simply lay there, limbs entangled, staring at each other with wide eyes. Then, Rini felt laughter building up inside her, bubbling wildly to the surface. “Minsc’s poor bed…” she giggled. “I think that’s about as much of a perfect score as you can get, love. And…and…” She laughed helplessly, tears streaming down her face. 

“What?” 

“Can you imagine what Jaheira will say about this? Or Jan?” 

Their intermingled half-hysterical laughter filled the room for quite some time, and it turned out that beds are strictly optional as long as there is proper enthusiasm available. 

-*-

“You two broke _another_ bed?” Jaheira’s green eyes were wide with disbelief, and the fork she was holding fell from her suddenly limp fingers onto her plate and landed with a loud clang. “You broke _Minsc’s_ bed?!”

“Oh, come on, Jae,” Zaerini said, hoping that if she talked quickly enough, she could ignore her burning cheeks. “It’s only two beds so far, and the first time we were temporarily transformed into little kids, remember? This is the only time that…uh…and besides, Minsc wasn’t even in the room, was he?” 

“Minsc had to sleep in Little Rini’s bed,” the large ranger helpfully added. “It smelled very nice, and Boo made a cozy nest on the pillow. We also helped sort out your clothes since they were all over the floor and somebody might trip on them, and it was very edu-kay-tional, until Boo told me about how they were private lady’s clothes, and then I kept my eyes closed and let Boo sort them out.” The hamster squeaked in agreement, his beady little black eyes looking quite amused. 

_A hamster has sorted out my underwear_ , Rini thought, not quite knowing if she wanted to laugh or cry. _Well, serves me right for walking about with no pants on, I guess._

“You will not touch her personal garments, Rashemite!” an indignant Edwin cut in. The wizard wasn’t quite as sparkly as he had been the previous night, but his new robe still glittered whenever he moved. He was sitting right next to her, close enough that their thighs would bump together whenever one of them moved even a little. Both of them were taking full advantage of this fact. “That honor is reserved for me, Edwin Odesseiron, unsurpassed lover and…” 

“Breaker of beds,” Jan said, his eyes glittering mischievously as he reached across the breakfast table and grabbed another egg. “Honestly, kids these days…leave them alone for two minutes and there’ll be the crack and crash of crumbling boudoir furniture. One might think you’d been up to no good.” 

“Can we just please forget about the bed?” Rini asked. “It was an accident, all right? We’ll pay for it.” She looked around the table. “Say…where’s Ano this morning? Has he had breakfast already?” 

Jaheira nodded. “He has, and then he went for a morning jog.” She leaned her head against her hand, looking a little bemused. “I cannot imagine where he finds all that energy. Oh, and then he went to speak with the innkeeper about borrowing a private room where we might discuss our next plans privately.” Her face turned more somber. “Our plans regarding a certain elf, and a certain lich.” 

The bard nodded, shivering a little, and she reached for Edwin’s hand almost unconsciously, squeezing it tightly. _Aerie. And Kangaxx, the Demilich. Well, we’ll just have to deal with them somehow. They will not hurt him if I can help it._

“Has it occurred to you” Jan asked, “How many of the liches in Athkatla seem to be utterly loopy? Maybe it’s something in the embalming fluid…though I suppose shutting oneself into a small tomb for centuries on end, with nothing to do but watch one’s body parts slowly drop off could get to anybody. Much like my Great Uncle Magius Jansen, the famous lich.”

Jaheira slowly buried her face in her hands. “Jan…” 

“Now, Uncle Magius was a great wizard,” the gnome carried on. “Huge fireballs, lightning from the sky, raising of dead, binding of demons, summoning of turnips, you name it. There was only one minor spell he never quite could get the hang of, but he didn’t think that would matter.”

“And that was?” Edwin wearily asked. 

“Patience, Red, I’m getting to it. So, one fine day he decided to become a lich, and after a heinous ritual that involved binding his immortal soul inside a jar of turnip jam, he succeeded. Rotting body, immense magical powers, bad taste in clothes, he had it all. So, he built himself an impenetrable crypt, shut himself inside it and prepared himself to lurk there for a few centuries until hopefully some random adventurers would stumble on him so he could kill them. Too bad he didn’t know how to cast the ‘Light’ spell – and poor uncle Magius was terribly afraid of the dark.”

“A lich who’s afraid of the dark,” Edwin said in a toneless voice. 

“Oh yes. Some adventurers did find him eventually, but by then he was a nervous wreck, completely insane and gibbering incomprehensible nonsense, so unlike any true Jansen. However, he did manage to make a successful career for himself as a translator of instruction manuals for magical items and fit right in there even though he had a tendency to ooze on the pages when he got excited.” 

There was a brief pause. “Right,” Jaheira eventually said, rising from the table. “If everybody has finished – yes Minsc, you may leave the crust if you like – then I think we should go find Anomen. We have much to do, and little time to waste.” 

However, just as Zaerini was about to rise from the table, a stranger came up to her. He was a middle-aged human man, short and skinny, with slightly thinning blond hair, and a little twitch in his right cheek. “Greetings, my lady!” he said, sweeping off his plumed red velvet cap with a grand flourish. “I am Higgold, and I am told you are the new proprietor of the fine establishment located within the basement of this very inn?” 

“Oh, the theatre?” the bard readily agreed. “That’s right, but I haven’t exactly had the time to do anything about it yet, so if you’re wanting to buy tickets or something, I’m afraid you’re out of luck.” 

“No, no,” Higgold said with an amused smile. “You misunderstand me. You see, I have come to offer you my services. As I understand, you are an adventurer, likely to travel a lot in the near future, and so I thought that you might have a use for a professional manager to help you stage whatever play you intend to produce. If you wish for references, just ask around the theatre district here on the Bridge – I am quite well known.” 

“Is that so?” Edwin asked. “And if you are so skilled, why is it that you are also unemployed?”

Higgold’s face darkened a little. “I fear that there were some irresolvable creative issues with my former employer. Really, the plays that man writes are too repulsively bad to even describe. I have no wish to have my name connected with his in any way. Unfortunately, he was so incensed with my ‘betrayal’ that he did his best to smear my name, not to mention threaten and bully any theatre owner who considered hiring me. And so far, he has got away with it – he is woefully untalented, but he is nasty enough to scare most people. He told me I’d ‘never work in this town again’, and I’m afraid it looks more and more likely that he’ll be correct about that.” 

“Right,” Rini said, blinking. “And you want me to hire you. You’d better be very good, in that case. Who is this jerk you worked for anyway?” 

“His name is Ashley Parsley,” Higgold said with a small grimace of disgust. “And he may be a halfling, but he has an ego too large for an ogre.” 

“Ashley Parsley?!” Edwin said, thumping his hand down on the table. “Ashley Parsley! I know that name! He was that revolting little halfling who tried to flirt with me at the Jysstev Masquerade Ball!” He noticed the surprised look on Higgold’s face and noisily cleared his throat, going somewhat red in the cheeks. “Of course, I happened to be female at the time…no, what I mean to say is that…” 

“That I will be happy to hire you, Higgold,” Zaerini said, smiling broadly. “You just go ahead and round up a troupe of actors – you can have a word with Haer’Dalis, the tiefling, about that, since he agreed to stay on with this theatre when the rest of his friends left. I’m sure the two of you together can find the people we need, though I’ll of course want to approve of them before hiring anybody. Oh, and although I’m sure you’re good at what you do, I think I’ll also want to bring in a person I know already, as joint manager. If this halfling is about to cause trouble, I think it could be very helpful.” 

“Hellkitten?” Edwin asked. “Who is this person you are referring to? (It is a pity I cannot keep an eye on this ‘artist’ myself, but since I will of course remain by her side I suppose it is an adequate safety measure.)” 

“You’ll see. I’ll send a messenger out, as soon as I can. Higgold, if me and my friends are still alive tomorrow morning, we’ll meet you at the playhouse then, to discuss the details.” 

“Ha ha, a fine joke, my lady!” Higgold asked. Then, his smile faltered a little. “You…you are joking, aren’t you?” 

“Just stop by tomorrow, Higgold. And now, you’ll have to excuse us. We’ve got places to go, things to kill, stuff to loot…you know how that is.” 

“Ah…yes, yes of course,” Higgold said, smiling nervously as he excused himself. “I…will see you all tomorrow then. Ta!” 

The adventurers made their upstairs, towards the room Anomen had procured. As she approached the door, Zaerini paused, however. She could hear Anomen’s voice coming quite loudly from behind the door, and the cleric seemed pretty frustrated. “But…but that is quite impossible!” he protested. “It simply cannot be. My Lord would never…” 

The next voice took her by surprise, and then she ruefully chastised herself about that. _Well, he did say he would stop by today. Why be surprised that you didn’t see him coming in through the door?_

“It must be a grand thing to know the inner workings of Helm’s mind so closely,” Dekaras said from behind the door, and there was a faint hint of amusement in his voice. “To know exactly what a god would or would not do, that is a marvelous gift indeed. It is good to see you are so humble about it though.” 

“But you can’t! The Watcher is…I mean, the finest of paladins are part of his flock! You couldn’t possibly belong there!” Rini felt her jaw drop slowly open, and as she looked at Edwin, she saw that he had the same stunned look on his face. 

“You know, this whole ‘flock’ idea never really appealed to me,” the assassin said in a thoughtful voice. “Reminds me too much of sheep. But all the same, yes, I do pay my respects to the Watcher, and since he hasn’t seen fit to hit me with any lightning bolts over it yet I don’t think he has all that much against it, do you?” He paused, and then raised his voice. “You lot might as well all come in. You’re scuffling your feet enough to sound like a herd of elephants.” 

When the group entered the room, Edwin was the first who spoke. “Helm?!” he said to his teacher, with almost the same half accusatory, half disbelieving voice that Anomen had used. “What do you mean, _Helm_? And why didn’t you ever tell me?” 

“You never asked,” Dekaras said in a maddeningly reasonable voice. “Young Anomen did, though.” He rocked his chair nonchalantly back and forth, balancing it on two legs as he leaned back against the wall. He’d done away with the judge disguise, of course, and was once again dressed in his customary black. “Well, actually, he spent about an hour or so trying to inform me in a most persistent manner of the virtues of the Watcher, but strangely enough he seemed to get unhappy when I finally found it a bit tedious and informed him that he was preaching to the converted.” 

“But…Helm!” Both Edwin and Anomen spoke in disbelieving unison, and then gave each other an annoyed look. 

The assassin sighed. “Look,” he said, “I can see we won’t be able to get down to any serious business until this whole ‘Helm’ thing has been sorted out. Anomen, what is Helm’s dominion?” 

The cleric looked a little nonplussed for a moment, but then he spoke, reciting obediently. “Helm’s dominion is guardians, protectors and protection.” 

“Just so.” Dekaras gave Edwin a sidelong look that Rini couldn’t quite interpret, partially amused and partially exasperated. “And given that Edwin has lived to see adult age I would say that I am reasonably qualified to call myself a competent guardian, would you not agree?” 

“You are the best!” Edwin immediately agreed. “But…Helm…” 

“Anomen,” the assassin went on, “would you please recite the dogma of Helm? Slowly.” 

Anomen was looking more confused by the moment, but he complied readily enough. He was even standing up more smartly, Zaerini noticed, as if he was being given an exam back at the Order or something. “Er…never betray trust. Be vigilant. Stand, wait, and watch carefully.” 

“Check, check and check. Go on.” 

“Be fair and diligent in the conduct of your orders?” 

“Oh, no problem there. I always am diligent.” 

“Protect the weak, poor, injured and young, and do not sacrifice them for others or yourself?” 

“Slightly iffy on that one – but if you must know, I never took an assignment against anybody without the means to defend him or herself, and I would never dream of harming a child. Next?” 

“Well…Anticipate attacks and be ready?” 

“No problem.” 

“Know your foes?” 

”Absolutely. Reconnaissance is extremely important.” 

“Care for your weapons so that they may perform their duties when called upon?” 

“Wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise. You do not want to suddenly find out that your best dagger has gone blunt when you’re in the middle of some delicate procedure. Go on.” 

“Careful planning always defeats rushed actions in the end?” 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” 

“Ah…always obey orders, provided those orders follow the dictates of Helm?” 

“Hm…that’s a tricky one. Let us just say I obey those orders I think should be obeyed. It’s not as if all that many people try to give me orders anyway, you know, so the issue rarely crops up. Next?” 

“ The final one. Demonstrate excellence and purity of loyalty in your role as guardian and protector?” 

“I try my best, at least. Edwin?” 

“I could never have wished for better,” the wizard quietly said. Then, he blinked. “But…Helm? Shiny armor? Armor polish?!” 

“I never said I was a paladin of Helm, did I? Those things don’t apply to regular people, only to the professional worshippers. I’m sure he appreciates the occasional follower who doesn’t gleam or clank like an ironworks.” The assassin looked at the ceiling. “Hm…no, still no lightning bolts. That’s reassuring. So, shall we get down to business then? I believe some of that ‘careful planning’ is in order now, unless you wanted to just rush off and tackle a demilich unprepared…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did write a short drabble, regarding how the whole 'Helm' thing initially came about. If people would like me to, I can post it separately.


	112. Plans and Plotting

**Cards Reshuffled 112 – Plans and Plotting**

_Whenever you mean to kill somebody, you want to make certain to make careful plans in advance. This is especially true if your target is some sort of supernatural creature. Finding out at the last moment that your chosen victim can only be harmed by a weapon made of rowan wood and dipped in the blood of a virgin basilisk, is the sort of thing that can really put a crimp in your style._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

“Oh, will the two of you please get over this!” Jaheira stated, alternating her fierce glare between Edwin and Anomen. “You are being very childish, you know. So, the man worships Helm. That hardly has any bearings on our current problems, nor is it really any of your business.” 

“Quite so,” Dekaras said, with a grateful nod towards the druid. The assassin was still leaning nonchalantly back on his chair against the wall, balancing in what looked like a terribly precarious position to Zaerini. Despite the unconcerned air though, he did look mildly annoyed as he watched the two younger men. “I would not even have brought it up if you hadn’t asked, and I cannot really see that I’m in any way obliged to participate in some sort of religious tribunal over my personal beliefs.” 

“But Teacher Dekaras, don’t you think that some other god would be more…”

“But really, sir, as a Priest of Helm I feel it is my solemn duty to question the hearts of the congregation in order to best provide guidance, and…” 

“I said, that is enough,” the assassin said, and there was a steely finality in his voice that made both Edwin and Anomen instantly shut their mouths, pale a little and shoot nervous glances at each other. “There are far more important things to consider.” 

“Like Aerie,” Zaerini said, shivering a little and hugging herself. 

“Like her, yes. Now, I did some snooping around the place where she has been staying earlier today – oh, don’t give me that look, Edwin, you know I don’t take unnecessary risks – and I learnt some interesting things. The servants were all in an uproar about the bloody death of their master, and the Avariel has disappeared. Nobody has any idea where she has got to, but most suspect she was abducted by the same person who killed Eckel.” 

“Yeah, right,” Rini muttered. “I wonder why she did that…I guess she didn’t have any further use for him. Or maybe she lost her temper.” 

“Perhaps. But wherever she has got to, it is safest to assume that she already is formulating some plan for vengeance. Actually, I can easily imagine two things she might have done.”

“Her Illithid ally?” Jaheira suggested. The druid was fingering the hilt of her scimitar thoughtfully, a grim look on her face. “That seems one likely option to me.” 

“Agreed. Or, she might have decided to opt for a new ally, and we know who has already been sending her overtures. Good thing I am in a prime position to find out more about that.” 

At this, Edwin’s face turned the approximate colour and texture of a damp cheese, and there was a sudden tic in his left cheek. “You…not Bhodi! You cannot possibly mean to remain in the presence of that creature any longer, not if the Avariel could turn up there at any moment!” He got to his feet, and drew himself up nervously, but looking his teacher straight in the eyes. “I…I…I forbid it! I _order_ you not to!” 

Rini winced. _Uh Oh. Bad move, Eddie. Bad, bad, bad move. I’ve known him a fraction of the time you have, and even I can tell that._

“Well, well,” Dekaras said in a calm, conversational voice, one that betrayed nothing more than detached interest. Rini did notice that he had stopped the rocking of his chair though. “Isn’t that interesting? I should perhaps point out to you the difference between being an independent agent and a slavish thrall, but I fear that would take too long. And as it happens, I have no choice, though this means I will need to work more quickly than I would have preferred. We still need the information Bhodi holds about Spellhold, Imoen’s prison. My…temporary ally and I stole the plans for it on Bhodi’s behalf, but since she was expecting immediate delivery, we had no choice but to give them up to her or risk being immediately hunted by a herd of vampires. I had always planned to get them back when the time was right though, either copies or originals, and now it seems I must see about doing so at once, before the Avariel decides to take Bhodi up on her offer. I do not wish to be caught between the two of them, I can assure you that.” He gave Edwin a cool look. “We will discuss these ‘orders’ of yours later, I think. I would hate to have missed out on something vital.”

Edwin deflated downwards in his chair. 

“Er…” Zaerini said, hoping to break the awkward silence. “About Aerie…think we should get out of town for a bit?” 

Dekaras nodded. “Actually, I think that is a very good idea,” he said. “It will make it harder for her to find you and get to you. Did you have a particular place in mind?” 

“Yep. There’s this place called the Umar Hills, where they wanted to hire adventurers in order to…” 

Minsc’s face split into a huge grin. “Ooooh, Minsc remembers! This was the Noble Quest that Minsc found, all by himself except for Boo of course! Will we go soon, Little Rini?” 

“Pretty soon, I guess. We just need to sort out Edwin’s Geas first.” 

“Which will not be easy,” Jaheira said. “This is a Demilich we are talking about, remember? As I understand it, if we should get attacked by him, his magic is likely to wipe us all out in an instant. And even if we should survive that, we do not have powerful enough weapons to even dent him.” 

Rini chewed thoughtfully on one of her thumbnails. “You know, I’ve been wondering about this,” she said. “Remember when we met up with Nevaziah, the Lich, the last time? When he sang us this really odd song about Kangaxx? It seemed he wanted to give us a weird sort of clue or something, for whatever reason. So I memorized the song, just in case. Here, I’ll sing it to you all, in case you’ve forgotten.” She cleared her throat and started singing, in a far more melodious voice than Nevaziah’s. 

_Mean old Kangaxx, cheap old Kangaxx,  
Wants his bones returned  
Will bones you find?  
A Geas unbind?  
Or will you get burned?_

_Lying Kangaxx, sneaky Kangaxx,  
Kangaxx never pays  
One must hide well,  
Where shadows dwell,  
To win when Kangaxx plays_

_Nasty Kangaxx, clever Kangaxx,  
Death is what he brings  
Take care my dear,  
And plug your ear,  
To live when Kangaxx sings_

_Wicked Kangaxx, boasting Kangaxx,  
Thinks to trap your soul  
So set a spell,  
To guard you well,  
And you will reach your goal_

_Clever Kangaxx, ancient Kangaxx,  
Face him soon you will  
Your form depart,  
Weave Word of Art,  
And Kangaxx you will kill._ ¨

“That’s it. So, what do you guys think of it all?” 

“Very interesting,” Dekaras said, watching her thoughtfully. “I cannot claim to be an expert on Demiliches, and I certainly have never encountered one, but I do know that their howl is supposed to be instantly fatal to anyone who hears it. I suspect that is what is meant by ‘plug your ear’. And of course, they are said to be invulnerable to all ordinary weapons and most magical ones. I don’t suppose any of you have a vorpal sword or Mace of Disruption lying about somewhere, do you?” 

“Regrettably not,” Anomen admitted. “And of course, unlike a regular lich, a Demilich cannot be turned, not even by the most powerful of priests.”

“And they are said to trade some of their teeth in for diamond teeth,” Jan contributed. “And then, when they fight somebody, they suck that person’s soul right out of his body and entrap it in their teeth, making the nasty bugger of a demilich even more powerful than before. It’ll make your body rot on the spot too, no way of bringing you back whatsoever. Sort of reminds me of my Uncle Scratchy, he had this set of wooden teeth, you see, and sometimes he’d forget to put them in and leave them lying about somewhere. Finding Uncle Scratchy’s teeth lying under your pillow when you go to bed, little bits of spinach stuck between them, is the kind of thing that can warp a young gnome for life, you know.”

“Ah,” Edwin said. “The mystery is solved at long last, and we need wonder no longer. (And here I always thought his annoying manners were caused by lengthy overexposure to turnips.) Now, regarding the Demilich, obviously we cannot rely on brute strength. Cunning, guile, and my own inimitable magic will certainly win the day though. Weave Word of Art indeed – the senile lich got at least that much right. Now let me think…only a few spells are useful against a Demilich. Once I knew them all, but it was many years ago that I read that ancient tome. (And I am sure nobody needs to know that I was really searching for a ‘Summon Concubines’ spell at the time.)”

“Well?” Rini asked. “Can you remember any of them at all?” 

Edwin scratched his beard as he thought about this. “A spell of forgetfulness may potentially cause a Demilich to retreat, though it is very chancy. Also, I do not have one, no more than a Shatter spell. Something else that can supposedly damage a Demilich is a ‘Holy Word’ spoken by a powerful cleric.”

Anomen shook his head. “I fear that although Helm has granted me increased strength and powers since embarking on our journey, such a spell is still beyond me.”

“Still,” Dekaras said, “it seems this lich you encountered meant to imply that magic is the key. Which reminds me…” He started rummaging in his pockets, and eventually hauled a tightly rolled up scroll out. “Degardan had this in his possession,” he said as he handed the scroll over to Edwin. “I didn’t think he would be likely to have any further use for it, but I thought you would be interested in it. I would have given it to you earlier, but we were all a bit preoccupied with the whole trial business, so I decided to wait.” 

Edwin’s eyes lit up. “Oh!” he exclaimed. “What is it? Is it…a demon summoning spell?” 

“No. But just as powerful. You won’t be able to actually cast it yet of course, but if you keep studying diligently, I have no doubt that you eventually will.” 

Edwin eagerly grasped the scroll and unrolled it. “It’s…it’s…oh, thank you! Thank you so much! This is a wonderful present, and I’ll be very careful with it and not waste it, I’ll learn to cast it properly and one day I’ll be powerful enough to do so, and I’ll make you proud of me, I promise!” He was practically stumbling over his words, so eager was he. 

Dekaras was smiling fondly at the wizard, but as Zaerini looked more carefully, she thought she could glimpse just a trace of melancholia as well. Then it was gone, so swiftly that she wondered if she had imagined it. “I am that already,” he simply said. 

“Oh…I…you really are?” Edwin’s cheeks had taken on a distinctly pink color, and Zaerini could see his fingers trembling a little as he held the scroll. She turned her head and happened to meet Anomen’s eyes. The cleric looked away almost instantly, but not before she had seen the longing there. _Of course. Poor Ano…that’s what he always wanted his father to say. And from what Eddie has told me, his teacher has always been more of a father to him than his actual one – much like Gorion was for me._

“Yes, Edwin,” Dekaras said. “I really am.” He patted the wizard on the shoulder. “Now put that scroll away, before you accidentally tear it up.” 

Edwin was just about to do so, but then he suddenly froze in place, staring at the scroll. “This spell…” he whispered. “Yes, now I remember! Such an obscure text it was…but I remember it! But you would need something else…and we do have it! Of course, we do!” 

“Eddie?” Rini asked her lover. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, nothing!” The wizard happily crooned, as he lovingly studied the spell scroll again. Then, he leapt to his feet, pulling her off her chair as well, and kissed her soundly. “I have it! Ha, that foolish Demilich thought he could be a match for Edwin Odesseiron, the most skillfully educated of sages, but this spell shall be his doom!”

“Good going, Red,” Jan approved. “I just hope it won’t make us all turn into the opposite gender – not that the Jansen charm would be in any way diminished of course.” 

-*-

“So, this is it?” Zaerini asked, pointing at the dingy house in front of her. It was so narrow that it was practically invisible between the two larger buildings on either side of it, and the thick mists that drifted across the Docks this day hadn’t made it any easier to find the right spot. There was a heavy smell in the air, of cold water and rotting seaweed. Perhaps, just perhaps, of something else rotting as well, in the alley they had just passed. Nobody had wanted to take a closer look, especially when they glimpsed the huddled form lying motionless in the shadows. 

“Yes,” Edwin said, nodding. He turned towards his lover, momentarily distracted by how little drops of moisture glittered in the red hair, like tiny diamonds. “This is the dwelling of that annoying floating skull, Kangaxx. And truly, I wish you would reconsider, I can deal perfectly well with him on my own. (And then I believe I will put a little candle inside him and use him for a desk ornament. Assuming I ever again get a proper room with a proper desk of my own.)” 

“Forget it, Edwin!” The half-elf had put her hands on her hips and was glaring at him. “Now, listen carefully…” 

_She really does look quite adorably attractive when she’s in a rage…_

“Edwin!” 

_Especially with the way her nose scrunches up like that, and her eyes practically spit fire, and then when she takes really deep breaths it’s amazing how she…_

“EDWIN!” 

“Er…what was that? I mean, yes, of course, I was listening very carefully, paying particular attention to every word to pass between your lips. (And such sweet lips they are too.)” 

“Were you? And what was I saying?” 

“Ah…that is…” 

“She was saying,” Dekaras cut in, “That there is no question of you going in there on your own, a statement to which I offer my full and unwavering support.” The assassin had paused to examine the door to the house, but now he turned around to give Edwin a firm look along his nose, a look that made the wizard vividly remember what it had been like being six years old and getting caught just before attempting to make his bedroom carpet fly, like they did in Calimshan. His teacher had not been in a happy mood as he pulled both Edwin and the carpet off the windowsill. “Now, if we are fortunate the creature may be satisfied enough when you bring the bones it wanted, and then what do you do?” 

“I…”

“You do not fight it. You also do not provoke it in any way that may cause it to attack _us_ , is that clear?” 

“Yes, yes, all right,” Edwin said, somewhat sulkily. It had been his extremely clever plan, after all, hadn’t it? ¨

“Yes, you did come up with a quite ingenious plan,” Dekaras admitted, as if he had been reading the wizard’s thoughts, “and I am impressed with it. But it is still extremely dangerous and chancy, and I don’t want you to get so carried away with your own cleverness that you try to fight the demilich unless there is no other choice available, do you understand that?” He smiled faintly. “I would be quite seriously upset with you if you got yourself killed because you wanted to prove a point.” 

“And so would I,” Zaerini said, reaching out to touch his cheek briefly. The look in her eyes was enough to melt away any lingering traces of frustration, and Edwin suddenly felt certain that he was smiling as goofily as any village idiot. He didn’t care much though. 

“It behooves us all to be cautious in that place,” Anomen said. The priest was a little pale, and he kept fingering the symbol of Helm repeatedly, as if he was trying to draw strength from it. “A single misstep and we could lose more than our lives; we could lose our very souls to the foul powers of that creature. Yet, I believe we are well prepared, should battle prove necessary.” 

“As long as everybody remembers what is important here,” Jaheira said. “If it comes to a fight, it will come down to one of us and one alone.” Her green eyes bored into Edwin’s, and he took a sudden and involuntary step backwards. “Remember this, Edwin. None of our weapons can harm a demilich. Only you can do so, and you will only have one single chance. You cannot afford not to take this seriously, or to act without thinking. If you should fail…”

“Then we’ll all be dead,” Jan helpfully added, “or possibly soul-sucked and living inside a demilich’s diamond tooth. I did tell you about the soul-sucking part, didn’t I?” 

“Yes,” Edwin barely managed to say. “You did.” For the first time, it really came home to him. Death, doom, destruction. His plan was a good one, he knew it was, but it was still hideously dangerous, and if it failed, if it failed they would all be doomed, all of them, and it would all be his fault, wouldn’t it? He’d be responsible. 

_Boss?_ Insufferable’s voice sounded even smaller than usual, and Edwin instinctively reached his hand down into his pocket to give the tiny monkey a reassuring touch. Or possibly to reassure himself. Or both. Certainly, the soft and fluffy fur beneath his fingers made him feel a little better, but he could also feel the monkey’s rapidly beating heart under the small ribcage, and that didn’t reassure him at all. _I don’t want us to die either. Are you sure you can do this? Maybe one of the others could help, like your female? Or maybe your teacher? You said he knows about how to use scrolls, and I’m sure he’d do it if you asked him._

At once, without even thinking about it, Edwin’s eyes did turn towards his mentor, who was leaning against the wall of the building, only partially visible in the thick mist. _Yes, Suffy. And that’s why I mustn’t._ It was tempting though, oh so tempting. His teacher certainly knew how to use scrolls, and there would be no risk of him losing his head and acting too soon or making some other nervous mistake. _And using scrolls hurts him. He doesn’t know that I know, but I do, having seen it so many times I couldn’t not know. And the more powerful the scroll, the worse it is. A scroll this powerful wouldn’t simply hurt him; if the spell failed, he would be completely open to Kangaxx’ counterattack. No, I cannot ask it of him. It was I who took the Geas, and I must be the one to get rid of it._

A sound clap on his back interrupted Edwin’s train of thought, and the booming voice next to his ear nearly deafened him. “The Evil Wizard needn’t worry! Boo may not be able to go for the eyes of the Nasty Skull, but he will still fight with his full unleashed hamster fury! It is small, but it knows just the right spots to nibble. And Minsc is big, and he will bite great big chunks out of the hide of Evil!” The large man was beaming brightly, clearly without a single concern about possibly coming face to skull with a demilich in just a few minutes. “Also,” he proudly said, “the Heroes of Rasheman are the fiercest Heroes in all the world, and now there is not just Minsc but one more, and one and one make…TWO BUTT-KICKING BERSERKER HEROES OF RASHEMAN! Three with Boo.” 

For a moment, Edwin drew a complete blank and thought that the ranger had finally gone completely off his rocker. Then, his eyes followed Minsc’s outstretched finger, and when he saw where it was pointing, he winced. _Curse that big-mouthed, blabbering fool of a ranger._

His teacher was looking blankly back at Minsc, his face perfectly immobile, and when he spoke, he did so in hollow, carefully even tones. “I really cannot recall ever aspiring towards the title of ‘Hero’, and as for ‘Berserker’, that idea is even more preposterous.” He was still speaking in that calm, dead-sounding voice that made Edwin’s skin crawl, and forced the wizard to blink fiercely a few times and then turn away before anybody noticed. “And about Rasheman, I was finished with that long ago, and I will thank you not to mention it again.” 

Minsc scratched his bald scalp in some puzzlement, but then nodded. “Minsc is sorry, if he said something bad, even if he doesn’t understand what it was. Only, Boo says…” 

“Yes?” Dekaras said, not looking back at the ranger. Instead he was staring emptily out into the drifting fogbanks, at something only he could see. “What does the hamster say?” 

“Boo says Rasheman might not be finished with you.” 

-*-

Edwin clutched the amulet around his throat in a death-grip as he approached the silent sarcophagus, hard enough that it cut into the palm of his hand. It wasn’t the amulet he normally wore, the one that he had worn for so long that it practically felt like a part of him. That was unpleasant in itself – the usual amulet always made him feel better as he touched it, safe and secure. This one, the one they had found in the Planar Prison, was a cold and alien presence against his skin, and gave him no comfort at all. Yet this was the one in which he had to trust. His own amulet would strengthen his magic, but against Kangaxx he knew that he had no spells that would be enough protection. No, he would have to trust in just one spell, the one on the scroll his teacher had given him, and it would need to be cast at the exactly right moment or it would all be wasted. _And then we would all be dead, or worse. I will not let that happen. I will not. I am Edwin Odesseiron, Spellcaster Supreme, and I can do this._

Gingerly, the wizard touched the sarcophagus, feeling the icy cold that emanated from it, so cold that it almost burned his fingers. “Kangaxx,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “I have come, to repay my debt and carry out our agreement.” 

There was a brief moment of silence. Then, a deep, somehow liquid chuckle came from inside the sarcophagus. It was the laughter of a rabid killer trying to seem genial, while simultaneously holding a dripping axe behind his back. “Well, well, my good friend the wizard!” a voice said. “I see you’ve changed a little – pity, that. How absolutely perky of you to fetch me my bones. You did fetch my bones, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Edwin said. “Arms, legs, torso, pelvis, they are all there.”

“Goody goody! Just place them right here then, on top of my coffin, and we’ll be all done.” 

“In a moment,” Edwin said. This was dangerous, but necessary. “Before I do so, I want the Geas lifted. I would not wish for you to be so overjoyed with your release that it slipped your mind, after all. (Or whatever passes for one in a disembodied skull.)” Behind him, he could hear a faint intake of breath from all his companions. _What? I am utilizing the finest tricks of Thayvian Diplomacy, the creature will be as putty in my hands. Not that I want it to actually be putty of course, I would settle for a finely ground dust._

There was a long, ominous silence, and then Kangaxx spoke again. “You have some nerve, buddy. But that’s all right, I like that in a chap. I bet you could make for a fine lich, not like that senile old lunatic Nevaziah.” Brief chanting from inside the sarcophagus, during which Edwin frantically held onto the scroll that he carried in the pocket of his robe, wondering if he was going to have to pull it out. But the words spoken did not imply a spell of attack, and now he could feel something…something shifting inside, as if a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders, one he hadn’t even known he carried. 

“It is done,” he said, breathing a sigh of relief. “The Geas is lifted.” 

“Well, it was a deal, Neil! Now give me the bones, and I’ll come out to play, Ray. For if you don’t, I will be really mad, Brad.” 

Edwin paused, looking back across his shoulder. This was where he had to make a choice, a choice that could well doom them all. If he withheld the bones, the demilich would certainly attack. If he gave them up, the demilich might let them go in peace. But if it did not, it would be more powerful than before, perhaps too powerful. There was no way of knowing which it would be, none at all. Briefly, he met his teacher’s eyes, wanting reassurance. Dekaras nodded, almost imperceptibly. It wasn’t so much an acknowledgement of choosing one way or the other, but it was far more important than that. _He trusts me enough to let me decide this. I will show him that I deserve that, whatever happens._ “Very well,” he said, carefully placing the bones, one by one, on the sarcophagus. “Here are your remains, as agreed. (And very nicely gilded they are too, just how I would prefer mine if I happened to be a fleshless undead.)” 

At first, nothing seemed to happen. Then, the bones started stirring, moving about on top of the coffin, as if handled by invisible hands. Faster and faster they spun, until they leapt into the air, swirling around each other, connecting, coming together. The lid of the sarcophagus crashed open with a loud bang, and the gust of ancient, somehow spicy air that whooshed out of it made Edwin cough, and his eyes tear. He blinked, and when he opened his eyes again, the skull was there, just settling down on top of the spine, the empty sockets glowing with a fierce, golden light that somehow managed to be just as cold and dead as the bones himself. One…two…no, three of the teeth had been replaced with diamonds, sharp and glittering ones, and Kangaxx had a fat cigar firmly in place between them. “Oh man, Stan!” Kangaxx chortled. “This is so much better than being in pieces…just try having your remains scattered all over town for a few centuries and you’ll see what I mean, Dean.” He chuckled again, that rich, syrupy sound, and shifted the cigarr from one corner of his mouth to the other. “Now what…shall I let you go, Moe?” Another chuckle. “Nah…I need some exercise anyway, so I think I’ll just have fun and kill, Bill.” 

As the demilich almost lazily opened his mouth, to howl or to cast, Edwin hoped that he hadn’t just made the most fatal mistake of his entire life. If he had, there would be nobody left alive who knew about it, of course. Not that he could take much comfort in that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boo, as always, is quite right.


	113. Skull Spell and Stage Sage

**Cards Reshuffled 113 – Skull Spell and Stage Sage**

_The Fool. He walks blindly into a chasm, never noticing the fierce beasts nipping at his heels. Sometimes, he is the divine Fool, the bringer of inspired madness and insight. But then again, sometimes he is just a Fool._

_Excerpt from ‘The Chaltar Deck of Cards – An Introduction’_

Kangaxx the Demilich opened his mouth, and a terrible, eardrum-shattering howl emerged. It was the mournful scream of a thousand souls being eternally tormented, or perhaps that of a fanboy discovering that after spending two weeks sleeping on the street outside the theatre where ‘Orc Wars’ will be played, the last fifty tickets have just been sold to the black market seller standing right in front of him. 

Had he actually been exposed to the howl, Edwin didn’t doubt that he would currently have been a prone corpse, most probably one with its face frozen into a horrible scream. Fortunately, he had been just fast enough in activating the amulet around his throat. The world shifted around him, becoming gray and blurred. He could still see the crypt he was in, including Kangaxx’ sarcophagus, but they all seemed oddly insubstantial. The wizard suspected that if he chose to, he probably could walk straight through them. 

The Demilich himself was a floating, fuzzy white pearl in the smoky shadows that whirled around Edwin, with only the sparkling diamond teeth clearly visible. In fact, those seemed even more radiant than before. _The soul trap gems. So powerful…_

Unbidden, a verse of Nevaziah’s annoying song floated to the forefront of Edwin’s mind. 

_Nasty Kangaxx, clever Kangaxx,  
Death is what he brings  
Take care my dear,  
And plug your ear,  
To live when Kangaxx sings_

He looked across his shoulder towards his companions, and then sighed with relief. They were all still standing, apparently unharmed and alive. And every single one of them was wearing a set of nauseatingly orange fluffy earmuffs, shaped more or less like turnips. They looked especially odd on Minsc, who had painted happy, smiling faces on his. Boo was sitting on the ranger’s shoulders, wearing a pair of earmuffs about as large as a human fingernail, and the hamster almost seemed to be grinning. Then, the adventurers charged the demilich, charged him with weapons they knew would do no good but provide a distraction. 

_Jansen Brand Earmuffs_ , Jan had said as they discussed it and he proudly displayed the ghastly things. _Protects against any unwanted noise, I kid you not! Thunderstorms, guards banging on the door, those wandering people from the Temple of Cyric who come preaching at the door…why, there is this very interesting story about how I once wore them when working on my combined flying-machine and chicken coop, and this one particularly loud-beaked rooster was…hey!_

_Oh, I am so sorry_ , Dekaras had solemnly said, taking off the earmuffs. _I was merely trying out your excellent invention. It does seem to live up to your promises, filtering out all unwanted noises. I do wish you carried some optional colors though, but this will do for now._

Edwin had a suspicion he wasn’t the only one who would be hanging on to his pair of earmuffs once this battle was over, assuming he survived it. As for now, he was safe without them. He was no longer entirely there, having gone ethereal, and Kangaxx’ howl could do him no harm.

Edwin was pulling out the spell scroll, readying himself for casting. It would take time though, and they had precious little time to waste. Moreover, although the demilich couldn’t harm him at the moment, it wouldn’t do to let it become aware of what he was doing. That was why the others had to come along, to keep Kangaxx distracted long enough, confusing him by presenting him with multiple targets. Out of the corner of his eye, Edwin could just glimpse Zaerini, her lips moving very swiftly. Her face was pale and tense, but she never faltered, and as soon as she finished, something appeared, striding confidently towards Kangaxx. 

It was a tall young warrior, wearing plate mail so shiny that even the faint light of the crypt reflected painfully off of it. His face was proud, and handsome in that way that hints at many hours spent before the mirror, and a fortune spent on skincare products. With a dazzling smile, he tossed his blond locks back, and drew his sword. Light tinkled along the shining blade, and off of his sparkling white teeth. “Die, unworthy foe!” he declared. “I am Sir Purity Pious, and ‘tis my most solemn duty to smite all foul undead I chance across!” The sword had little blue sparks crawling along the edge now, and it was hissing angrily. “Verily, so shall I…” 

“Die, Guy,” Kangaxx laughed, a dark, deep chuckle that reminded Edwin uncomfortably about the bubbling noises coming from a swamp. The demilich spoke, and one of the diamonds in its mouth briefly flashed with a brilliant white light. The illusion Zaerini had conjured was instantly evaporated, and now Kangaxx would be sure to turn his wrath upon the remaining party members. 

_But not if I have anything to say about it_ , Edwin thought. The final verse of Nevaziah’s song ran through his mind as he intoned the last syllables of the spell. 

_Clever Kangaxx, ancient Kangaxx,  
Face him soon you will  
Your form depart,  
Weave Word of Art,  
And Kangaxx you will kill._

.

He had departed his form, becoming ethereal to amplify the spell…and now, he would trust in his Art. The scroll evaporated from his fingers, even as magic rushed forth, so strong magic that it almost deadened his senses. _Unbelievable! And this is only a scroll – imagine what it would be like casting it for real!_ The pulse of magical energy blazed forward from the wizard’s outstretched palm, and he staggered momentarily, forcing himself to remain upright. Kangaxx’ mouth came open, and the demilich’s eye sockets flared briefly with a light that was sooty orange, a light that held no warmth at all. It was too late, though. With a loud CRACK, the golden skull shattered, splintered into a thousand pieces, and the torso, arms and legs clattered uselessly to the ground once more. 

_So that’s a ‘Power Word Kill’_ , the dazed Edwin thought as he slipped back towards the regular, solid world. _Now, if only I could get to do that again…_

“Eddie! You did it!” 

Edwin staggered a little as he suddenly found his arms filled with eager half-elf, but he didn’t mind in the least. Zaerini was grinning broadly, and she took advantage of his confusion to tickle his beard in a manner that was really highly undignified, and against which he ought to seriously protest…at some later point. Right now, he was too busy celebrating that he was still alive, with his soul intact, and holding the most wonderful woman in the world. 

“Of course,” the wizard managed between kisses. Her smallest touch was still enough to electrify him to the point of forgetting all else, but some things really needed to be pointed out. “Am I not Edwin Odesseiron, the most supreme spellcaster in the world? Utterly crushing that crackpot old cranium was all in a day’s work for me…” 

“Yes, you did do very well,” Dekaras said. The assassin was bending over Kangaxx’ remains, poking them with a look of great fascination on his sharp face. “You really have improved your skills in an admirable manner.” 

Edwin beamed. “See, I told you so! Didn’t I tell you so? Teacher Dekaras? Do you suppose I might…” 

Dekaras sighed. “Demon summoning again, boy? Peculiar, I do not recall you beating me at chess yet, and that was the agreement we had, wasn’t it?” 

“But please! I really am skilled enough to handle it now, honestly, I am! Did I tell you yet about how I dropped a cow on Elminster, that strutting old fraud?” 

“Yes,” Dekaras said, in a perfectly even voice. “You did. And quite frankly, if that was meant to reassure me as to your capacity for restraint, I have to inform you that it failed miserably.” 

“But…”

“However,” the assassin went on, “I will concede that you have the magical capacity for demon summoning now, even though I am still not convinced of your capacity for control. So yes, you may attempt it, if you happen to acquire the appropriate spells, which will include all the necessary protective spells, by the way. Also, you will give me your word that you will not attempt it on your own. If I do not happen to be present, you will at the very least make certain that your friends here are.” 

“Yes, yes…” 

“Oh, and they should be _aware_ of the fact that you’re doing it and agree to it. All of them.”

“But Teacher Dekaras…” 

“All of them, Edwin. And I want your word on it.” 

Edwin hung his head miserably, shuffling his feet as he tried in vain to think of a way to slip past any such thing as a vow. “Oh, all right,” he eventually said. “I promise.”

Anomen paused in his task of pouring holy water over the pieces of Kangaxx’ skull. Wherever the drops hit, the bits of gilded bone hissed and smoked, and eventually evaporated. “Which will not be any time soon, wizard,” he said. “Your teacher and I may not agree entirely upon Helmite doctrine, but in this I fully support his opinion. Prove to me that your dark dealings with the Nine Hells will aid the cause of Helm, and the forces of righteousness, and I will give my agreement, but not before that.” 

“Well said,” Jaheira agreed, tossing her hair back across her shoulder as she gave Edwin a firm glare. “Demons and devils are unnatural and evil beings, and I will have no truck with them unless it is absolutely necessary.” 

Minsc clapped Edwin encouragingly on the shoulder, making the wizard cough a little. “The Evil Wizard needn’t worry,” he said. “Demons are Nasty Evil, but Boo says it will all be all right anyway, so Minsc agrees and will kick Big Red Demon Butt whenever it begs to be kicked!” 

“Whenever you feel like it, Red,” Jan said. “Only don’t summon good old Demogorgon, would you? I hear that both his baboon heads have cravings for turnips, he’d eat all my stock.” 

_Demogorgon…Prince of Demons! A fitting servitor for the soon to be Grand Zulkir of Thay, the Ultimate Red Wizard, Edwin Odesseiron! Too bad he looks like a pair of monkeys…_

“It’ll work out, Dread Wizard, you’ll see,” Zaerini said, squeezing his hand. “If you want a demon, we’ll get you one. Well, maybe not Demogorgon, but still…” 

“And in the meantime,” Dekaras said, “you might be interested in this.” He held out a small object on the flat of his palm. A ring, Edwin saw, rather heavy and ornate, and made from dark red gold. It had been engraved with disturbingly twisted pictures of cavorting naked liches, male and female, and Edwin rapidly decided that he didn’t want to look too closely at those. Much as he appreciated knowledge, he did not long for any further education about lich erotica. _The Book of Kazaa though…time for some bedtime reading tonight, I think…_

“Don’t ask me how he was wearing it,” the assassin said. “Possibly around one of his teeth. But I thought it might make for a nice little memento. Just please remember not to put it on until you have determined what it actually does – I think we’ve had enough of curses and transformations for some time, yes?” 

_Sometime later, at the Five Flagons playhouse…._

“But…but…but…” Higgold said, his face a pasty white. 

Zaerini sighed. “Look, I told you that I’d bring somebody in from outside, to help with the day-to-day running of this place. I’ll be around to handle any major decisions, but I need somebody to handle things while I’m gone.” 

“But…but…but she’s a…” 

“Just go ahead and say it, male,” Viconia purred, watching the stuttering theatre director beneath half-closed eyelids. “It’s not that complicated a word, even the most feebleminded of surfacers usually can pronounce it.” 

Higgold gulped. “But…” 

“It’ll be fine, Higgold,” Zaerini said, patting the frightened man on the arm. “She won’t hurt you, and it’s the perfect solution, really. Viconia likes art, don’t you, Viconia?” 

“Oh, I do,” Viconia said with a small and secretive smile. “In the Underdark I had quite an extensive collection. As for your surfacer ‘theatre’, I will reserve my judgment for now – and I will make certain that my _abbil_ Zaerini is not cheated out of any of her profits. Should I discover anything of the sort had taken place, I would become very, very displeased.” 

“Not that there’s any danger of that,” Rini brightly said, flicking her red bangs out of her eyes. She idly scratched the neck of Softpaws, who was curled up on her lap, purring loudly. “Higgold’s an honest man, I think.” 

“Of-of course,” Higgold said, his eyes darting nervously between the two women. “Very honest. Remarkably honest. Famous for it! I’ll…I’ll start looking for a troupe of suitable actors then, shall I?” 

Things were really going very well, Zaerini thought. She was quite happy about her decision to ask Viconia to help manage the theatre for her. The Drow was happy about having a way to carve out a niche for herself in Athkatlan society, and this was something she would almost certainly be good at and was in no way charity. Besides, although Rini didn’t really think Higgold would try to steal from her, he seemed a bit of a wet blanket. Far better to let him concentrate on the actual artistic matters and let Viconia handle anything that required a firm hand. 

The meeting was taking place in the basement of the Five Flagons, in the theatre proper, and it was the morning after the battle with Kangaxx. Zaerini was sitting on the edge of the stage, her legs dangling in midair, and Higgold and Viconia were both seated on the red plush chairs in the first row. The half-elf noticed with some amusement that Higgold seemed torn between admiring Viconia’s physical attributes, and dreading letting the Drow notice he was doing so. 

_Time to wrap this up_ , she thought. _Must get started packing for the trip to Umar Hills tomorrow, and then there’s the dinner at Keldorn’s house tonight…oh, and I’d better make sure Eddie doesn’t go on a shopping rampage for more fancy robes…_

The bard’s train of thought was suddenly and rudely interrupted by a rather shrill voice, coming from the direction of the door. “You there!” it trumpeted. “I demand to see the owner of this wretched establishment, at once!”

Zaerini looked up, and saw that the speaker was a halfling, and an uncommonly small and haughty looking one at that. His brown hair was starting to thin at the top, and he had a permanent sneer fixed on his face. _Gee_ , she thought. _Talk about jerk at first sight._

“Oh, you want the owner?” the half-elf said, smiling pleasantly. “That would be me, actually. Zaerini of Candlekeep. And you are…?”

The halfling completely ignored her question, and strode along the aisled towards the stage, where he stopped to point an accusing finger at Higgold. “You!” he sneered. “I thought I told you that you’d never work in this town again!” Then he turned towards Rini again, smiling condescendingly. “You don’t want to hire him, girl. Total incompetent, incapable of working with a genius such as myself. Now, seeing that you are a complete and total amateur, with no real idea what you’re doing, and probably less talent, I’ll let it pass. Don’t do it again though.” He sniffed. “Oh, and when you eventually manage to produce some kind of a sad excuse for a script, pass it on to me. For my regular 90% part of the profits, I’ll make the necessary changes to the plot, to match the demands of the leading figures of the Athkatlan theatre community, namely me. As the premiere script writer, director, producer, actor and general thespian genius of Athkatla, I consider it my responsibility to serve the community by ensuring certain standards are maintained.” 

“Really,” Zaerini said, and she could feel her cheeks growing burning hot, even as a red flicker appeared before her eyes. Deep within her soul, Bhaal was egging her on, urging her to kill, to rip, to rend and to splatter. It seemed a better idea by the second. “How kind. And who are you, exactly?” 

The halfling paused in his diatribe, his eyes bulging with extreme amazement. “You…you…you don’t know?” 

“I know you’re an extremely obnoxious little creep, suffering from the sad delusion that I ought to care in any way about his rancid opinions, and kiss his hairy feet in the hopes of gaining his approval, but apart from that I draw a complete blank. Sorry.” 

By now, the halfling’s face was a deep purple, and he was actually sputtering. “Why…you…how dare you?! I, you wretched female, am Ashley Parsley!” 

When adoring sighs, swoons, or tearful apologies didn’t follow this declaration, he deflated a little, but still managed to maintain the sneer. “You know…you must know! Ashley Parsley, Stage Sage!” 

Still more incredulous silence, except for a faint snicker from Viconia. “You are a sad, pathetic little male,” the Drow said. “Now get out of here, you are unworthy of polluting the air we breathe with your noxious presence.” 

“And you know what else?” Zaerini added. “I would sooner ask theatrical advice from a dead sewer rat than from you. At least the rat would know how to decompose quietly. Now beat it, before I lose my temper.” 

Ashley Parsley had white splotches across his face now, which nicely matched the purple in his cheeks. “You…you…you ungrateful amateur!” he puffed. “Whatever your stupid play will be about, I know it will be awful, a born turkey, and then you will beg for my help and sage advice!” He twirled around and stalked off, in what was probably meant to be a show of righteous indignation. The impression was slightly spoilt by the way he sniffed and wiped at his eyes though. “You’ll be sorry!” he screamed. “You’ll _all_ be sorry!” He scrunched his face up, sniffing again. “And you!” he shrieked at Viconia. “I was going to offer you a job, you rude harlot! You would have been one of the busty mermaids in my next production, ‘The Passion Of Gruntir!’ I was going to have you swimming around bare-chested in a fish tank, and Gruntir, played by me of course, would get in, and there’d be all sorts of underwater activities involving the planes of my pulsating pectorals, not to mention my Tower of Power!” 

Viconia looked at the runty halfling, her lower lip curled with contempt. “Away, tiny _iblith_ ,” she said. “Before I peel your miniscule ‘tower’ right off your body and make you experience Chapter 347 of the Drow Book Of Bedroom Games personally. You won’t believe how creative I can get.” 

Parsley opened his mouth to say something, but then he took another look at Viconia and clearly thought the better of it. Instead, he simply slunk out the door, looking much like a kicked dog. 

There were a few moments of silence after Parsley had slammed the door shut behind himself. Then, Zaerini shrugged. “What an annoying little twit,” she said. “Beats me why he thinks I should lick his ugly feet in gratitude for his insults.” She giggled briefly. “Ashley Parsley – Stage Sage! How stupid can you get?” 

“He’ll cause trouble though,” Higgold darkly said. “You don’t know what he’s like. He never forgets an insult; he’ll keep coming back at you again and again for it. And the worst possible insult is what you just did, not taking him seriously. He wants to be worshipped, and if not that, feared. But laughing at him like that…I dread what he’ll do. He’ll try to sabotage this production, any way he can, and you can safely rely on that.” 

“Let him try,” Viconia said with a shrug. Then she smiled maliciously, a smile that was more a baring of teeth than anything else. “I would enjoy introducing him to some Drow customs, I think. While I may have no tentacle rod handy, there is a lot to be said for regular sharp implements. Fish tank indeed…I think a worm such as him belongs on a hook.” 

“Yeah,” Zaerini said. “Let him come, whenever he wants to give it a try.” She was smiling as well, a smile that well matched Viconia’s. “I’m feeling playful.” 

-*-

Half blinded by his tears of frustration; Ashley Parsley tottered off along the street. “No…no…no fair!” he whined to himself. “They didn’t take me seriously! How dare they not take me seriously? I’m the Stage Sage!” He sniffled again. “And they…they…they laughed at my Heroic Halflinghood. My Mighty Member. My Pillar of Passion. They’ll pay for that…oh how they’ll pay!” 

“Me be happy to pay for it, sweetums,” a husky voice said directly behind and a little above Ashley. “How much do youse charge?” 

Ashley turned around very slowly, and as he did, his heart filled with dread. Behind him, there was an ogre. A very large ogre, with a carpet of coarse brown fur all over its bare chest and back, and long fangs bared in a toothy grin. With a distant feeling of horror, he noticed that the ogre’s long brown hair had been braided into twisted dreadlocks, each one with a little pink bead at the end. Deep within the fur on the chest, he could see something gleaming. Rings. Big rings. 

“Pretty, ain’t they?” the ogre proudly said. Then, it firmly grabbed the crotch of its studded leather pants, winking flirtatiously at Ashley. “Got some more…right here. Wanna see?” 

“Nngh…nngh…nnn…” 

“Don’t mind that yer small,” the ogre went on, taking a step forward. “Like small. You look mighty nice too. Real…perky!” 

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaggggghhhhh!” Ashley Parsley screamed and took off running at full speed down the street. 

“Wait up, little perky one!” the amorous ogre shouted, as it came stomping after him. “Me tip real big, then us have happy bum-fun time together…” 

For some reason, Ashley Parsley didn’t seem inclined to take him up on this offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was, indeed, one of the known ways to kill a Demilich in 2nd edition. I remember feeling very pleased about that amulet of etherialness being available from the Planar Prison so I could sort it out, and of course I needed to to get rid of Degardan anyway and it made sense he would have the necessary scroll.


	114. Party and Preparation

**Cards Reshuffled 114 – Party and Preparation**

_Waiting can be a funny thing, able to bend time and make it twice as long as it ought to be. And quite often, what you wait for and what happens will be two entirely different things. A good example being getting a birthday present from a Jansen. No matter what it seems to be, it’s somehow always turnip related. But if you get given turnips, you might as well make turnip-juice, and then give that to another Jansen in turn for something that won’t make you gag._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“So, everybody, are you all perfectly clear on what is expected of you?” Jaheira asked. The druid briefly rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to avert the headache that she simply knew was heading her way. True, she could always cast a healing spell, but she didn’t want to waste one in case it would be needed later. The innocent-seeming faces of her companions did nothing whatsoever to reassure her. “Sir Keldorn may be relatively relaxed and informal for a paladin, but we still want to be on our best behavior for this dinner, do we not?” 

The adventurers were all standing outside Keldorn’s large mansion, dressed as smartly as they had been able to manage. This included Jan, who had braided little wooden turnips into his scraggly beard and put on a mage-robe that seemed to sparkle with every color of the rainbow. 

“’Course we will,” Zaerini said, winking at the druid. “Just relax, would you, I’m not a complete ogre. I have been to dinner parties before. And I promise I won’t turn into a cat and go raid the kitchen if I don’t like the food, like I did that time with the Grand Dukes. Though how they expected me to eat calf brains I still don’t know. Anyway, Keldorn’s a friend; I wouldn’t want to offend him. And Edwin won’t either, will you, Eddie?” 

The Red Wizard, resplendent in robes covered with so many glittering sequins and fake gems that he looked like a Solstice decoration, drew himself up haughtily. “Certainly not!” he said, fingering his neatly trimmed beard. “I am of the noblest Thayvian lineage after all, I know all about proper High Society, as opposed to the so-called nobles of this inferior hamlet, and my manners will as always be utterly impeccable. You may expect the finest Thayvian diplomacy from me.” 

_That is exactly what I was afraid of._

“Right you are,” Zaerini said, with a mischievous glint in her yellow eyes. “So, that means no snarky paladin comments, in other words?” 

“Well, I…” 

“No paladin comments whatsoever,” Jaheira cut in. “And that goes for you too, Jan. There will be no retelling of that atrocious story about the Flesh Golem and the paladin’s wife, is that clear?” 

“Of course not, my dear Jaheira,” Jan said, idly scratching his fleshy nose. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

“Good, because I…”

“It would be repetitive, after all. Now, the story about the paladin’s wife and the Calimshite spymaster, that’s a far better one.” 

“Jan…” 

“See, this paladin’s wife fell madly in love with a certain tall, dark and generally dashing spymaster up in Neverwinter,” Jan cheerfully went on, ignoring the glare Jaheira aimed at him. “Everything was fine at first, stirring passion, rooftop escapades, kinky kisses in the moonlight, that sort of thing. Right up until he killed her.” 

“He killed her?” Jaheira asked before she could help herself? “But you said they were…” 

“Lovers, yep. Thing is, the spymaster, being a very moral but not so bright fellow, hadn’t figured out that she was married. When he found out, the moral fellow he was, he promptly killed her for being unfaithful to her husband, which was of course against the law. Or possibly because she’d said something about how the Lord of the place was a rigid old bastard…very keen on his Lord he was, that spymaster. Why, some folks speculated it was more than just mere professional loyalty, but I’m sure the signed nude portrait he carried was a mere coincidence. Came to a bad end though, one day he got himself a new girlfriend without checking her credentials properly, and being the honest, law-abiding and moral spymaster he was, he carefully explained all about how he’d murdered his two previous girlfriends for not meeting his moral standards. Funny coincidence, he was found drowned in a bowl of yoghurt the next morning, so I guess yoghurt doesn’t always give you a long life. The girlfriend consoled herself with my cousin Erb though, the studliest gnome in Luskan, and he told me she went on to found a quite successful assassin’s guild up there afterwards. I guess she had had enough of morality.” 

The healing spell was becoming more tempting by the moment, Jaheira thought. She took a long, deep, and above all careful breath, to try to relieve tension. “Not that story either,” she said. “In fact, no stories at all would be best. And Minsc, you will keep a close eye on Boo, will you not?” 

The berserker nodded amiably, rubbing Boo between the ears. The little hamster had a white bow around his neck, and looked clean and fluffy, as if he had just been given a bath. “Minsc and Boo will be very, very Good! Minsc has some trouble knowing which forks to use first, but Boo knows about Cull-Toor and will show me what to do.” 

_As long as that does not involve footprints in the butter_ , Jaheira thought, but she said nothing of it. Instead, she turned to Anomen. “Anomen, I have no reason to believe that your behavior will be in any way inappropriate – I hope you will not give me one.” 

The cleric bowed briefly. “Of course not, Lady Jaheira,” he said. “Sir Keldorn has my utmost respect, and his lady wife was a dear friend of Moira’s. In fact, I would like to take the opportunity to ask Lady Maria if perchance…if she saw my sister in her last few days. I know there is more to be learnt of Moira’s death, I just know it.” 

“Of course,” Jaheira said, and felt a surge of sympathy for the young man, even as she noticed the others also nodding their assent. “That is very natural, under the circumstances." _As for me, I know how my Khalid died, and who will be made to pay for that death. What must it be like not to even have that?_ Then, she gave the others a final admonishing look. “Just remember – best behavior.” 

About an hour or so later, Jaheira’s headache had reached an alarming intensity. The food was excellent, the light from the silver candelabras soothing, and Keldorn and his wife were certainly pleasant, but she simply could not relax. It wasn’t that her friends weren’t trying – they were. Sadly, that only meant so much. 

Across the table, Zaerini was providing young Leona Firecam with a vivid description of Ashley Parsley, Stage Sage. Both girls were giggling loudly at the half-elf’s imaginative suggestions about what parts exactly the obnoxious Halfling would be suited for playing on stage. “Second cod-piece,” the redhead happily suggested. “No lines whatsoever to memorize, and he has just about enough charisma to pull it off. I bet he’d enjoy it too.” 

Leona giggled again, totally ignoring the slightly stunned look on her mother’s face. 

“So,” Lady Maria said, smiling bravely at Edwin, “you are a wizard, I understand, my lord? That is certainly very interesting. I cannot say Keldorn ever brought a wizard home for dinner before now.” 

“Undoubtedly,” Edwin said, sipping delicately from his glass of wine before he returned to pedantically cutting up his piece of roast chicken into exactly even cubes. “Few people outside of Thay can say that they have been honored with the presence of a Red Wizard at their table, much less an Odesseiron. No need to fret though, I will autograph the tablecloth at my earliest convenience.” 

“With what though, Red?” Jan asked. The gnome had sadly remarked upon the lack of turnips for dinner, but then contented himself with shaping his mashed potatoes like one. “Edwin or Edwina?” 

“Edwin of course, you malicious midget! Edwina was a temporary inconvenience, a mere nuisance!” 

“There is a difference?” Anomen muttered, but then he immediately coughed and shot a guilty glance at Jaheira. “Er…what I meant to say was…” 

“Ah, good Minsc!” Keldorn said in a fairly loud voice that fortunately kept Edwin from hearing Anomen’s comment. “I see that my sweet Vesper has taken a liking to your small companion, and I am glad to see him fully recovered from his recent ordeal.” 

“Boo is all well now, since Jaheira fixed him up!” the large ranger beamed. “And he likes children very much. See how he is enjoying himself?” 

Jaheira looked at the hamster, who was currently being squashed in Vesper’s sweaty little hand. His miniature bowtie was dangling from one of his ears, and there was a desperate look in his little black eyes. 

“Mama, I want a hamster!” Vesper enthusiastically declared, waving Boo about. “A minni-toor giant space hamster, just like Boo! And a kitty!” She fiercely hugged Softpaws, who was sitting on her lap. The black cat had such a look of martyrdom on her face as Jaheira never could have imagined any feline could produce. From time to time during the dinner, Jaheira had noticed the cat exchanging looks with her mistress, and she suspected that a Clawing Ban had been firmly implemented. 

“I think that Boo is a very unique hamster, my dear,” Keldorn said, and then stood up. “My friends, it gladdens my heart immensely to see you all at liberty and cleared of all accusations. It is my and my lady’s great pleasure to welcome you all into our home, and…” 

Plop. 

Keldorn broke off, and stared at his wine glass, into which something very small and very fluffy had just dropped from the overhanging chandelier. The creature in question paused in the process of scrubbing its armpits and grinned toothily up at the paladin. 

“…there is a monkey in my glass?” Keldorn finished the sentence, his eyebrows rising all the way to his hairline. Jaheira felt her breath catch in her throat. 

“Insufferable!” Edwin hissed, reaching across the table to fish his familiar out of the glass. “I told you to…no, I don’t care if wine makes your fur shinier! No, not if it makes it fluffier either! Bah, how can any familiar of mine be so totally devoid of all sense of propriety or common courtesy, you would think my own refined manners and keen sense of diplomacy hadn’t rubbed off at all…” 

“Papa?” Vesper said. “I want a monkey too! And I want to be a wizard just like Uncle Edwin, ‘cause he’s really funny and gets to wear really pretty dresses.” 

The outraged look on the wizard’s face coupled with the look of horror on Keldorn’s was simply too much. Jaheira leaned her face against her hands and felt the tension leak away as the laughter came. What had she worried about, anyway? When you were caught in a storm, you might as well ride it out and enjoy the wind in your face. _And…I do care about them all, foolish infants that they can be at times. I would not really have them be different._

“I agree, Keldorn,” Lady Maria said, smiling kindly. “I am happy to have your friends here and would be so even were it not for the…special circumstances under which we met. Now that I have seen more of them, I think they are good for you, very refreshing. Why, I haven’t enjoyed a dinner party this much in years!” 

-*-

As he was finishing his packing the following morning, Anomen mused on Lady Maria’s words to him. Passing strange they had been and worrying. 

“In the weeks before…before her death, she seemed happy,” the noblewoman had explained as he put forth the subject to her after dinner, when the protesting children had been sent off to bed. “You know your sister, Anomen. She took her duties towards your father very seriously, never sparing much time for herself. But now she was smiling more often and seemed easily distracted.” She had coughed delicately. “I do not know if I should say this…”

“Please, my lady,” Anomen had insisted. “I implore you; I need to learn the truth. I loved my sister; nothing could possibly make me think less of her.” 

“She had met somebody, had she not?” Jaheira had asked, her eyes narrowed with thought. “A suitor?” 

Anomen had startled at that, but of course it made sense. Moira was…had been…a lovely young woman, not merely possessed of beauty but of charm as well. True, the Delryn name might be in decline, but it was not inconceivable that that might be overlooked. 

Lady Maria had nodded. “Yes,” she said. “So she said, though I never met him, and she never told me his name.” 

“Nor did she speak of any man in her letters to me,” Anomen had slowly said, going through them in his memory. No, there had been no such mention, no comments about any particular young man his sister had recently met. “Why would she keep it a secret?”

“I truly do not know. I worried for her, fearing that the man might be somebody unsuitable, but she reassured me that such was not the case. She said she did not wish to speak of him to you just yet, because she knew you had more important concerns, and it was all so new, but that she knew the man was somebody you would be very happy with, and proud to welcome into the family.” 

Anomen had ransacked his mind at that, trying to come up with a name to match that description. He had never had many close friends, not until he had met Zaerini and her companions. The young men of the merchant houses despised him because of his father’s wasteful life, and the squires of the Order mostly thought him beneath them, either because of his heritage or because of his hot temper. Moira had met a few of them at times but had never seemed particularly interested in anybody. Yet, who else could it be? 

“Then, something changed,” Lady Maria had said, a worried look in her eyes. “In the final week before her death, Moira seemed troubled, as if she had some heavy concern weighing her down. I asked her Anomen, I asked her more than once to confide in me, but she would not speak of what was troubling her. Finally, she said one thing. ‘Lady Maria,’ she said, ‘why is truth such a terrible thing?’ I asked her what she meant by that, and then she said something very strange. ‘I wonder if living the lie would have been better than knowing the truth. But now I do know, or think I do, and can’t go back. If I do nothing, I am guilty, but if I do the wrong thing, I will cause such harm…’” 

The noblewoman’s eyes had filled with tears then, and she wiped at them with her handkerchief. “I tried to make her tell me what was wrong, Anomen, I swear to you that I did. But she would have none of it, and neither would she listen to my suggestion that she confide in you. ‘He would have only one course open to him,’ she said, ‘and if I am wrong, I could ruin him as well. I must be sure.’ But what it was she must be sure of, she never told me, and…I never saw her again. She gave me this, though. It was for you, Anomen.” Lady Maria had held out a small silver key, hanging from a piece of regular string. “Not personally, but in a letter, I received after her death. It said very little, only that you should have this, and that you ‘should look to the guidance of Helm’. I am so sorry I cannot help you more.”

“You have helped me immensely already, my lady,” Anomen had said, going down on his knee by Lady Maria’s chair. “And…Moira as well, being a true friend to her. I know you did all you could to help her.” 

And that was the truth, Anomen though, even as he went downstairs. It was time to depart for Imnesvale, and fight whatever mysterious evil it was that plagued that village. The evil that had claimed his sister’s life would have to wait, as much as that pained him. Moira was dead, but the people of Imnesvale were not, and their need was the more urgent. Zaerini had asked him if he wanted to delay their departure to investigate this new lead into Moira’s death, but he had declined. The key was important, he was sure of it, but unfortunately, he had no idea whatsoever which lock it might fit. Why had Moira not told him? It must have been something she had thought he would find obvious enough…but the key was not one that fit any of the regular locks in the Delryn estate, and then there was the added complication of his father. He could not simply walk in there and try the key in every door or cabinet he came across, his former home was barred to him. _I will learn the truth though_ , Anomen thought. _I will, Moira, I swear it to you, if it is at all within my power. And I will look to Helm, as you bid me, staying on the path of right and justice. I will discover the truth of what pained you so._

There had been something, something dark and dangerous. No mere lover’s tiff could have affected Moira so. No, there had been something else. _Helm, guide me straight and true, showing me what I must see, no matter where the truth of this matter will lie, or what the consequence of it will be._

There was a whisper of power within him, a warmth that he recognized well. The god had heard his prayer and responded to it. There were no actual words, but he thought he knew what it meant. _Truth. When the time is right._ As long as he kept his faith, his Lord would set him on the right path. _And in time, justice will be done._

-*-

It was coming closer. Valygar Corthala paused by the stream from which he had intended to drink, bent on one knee. The water was streaming from his hand, unacknowledged and forgotten, despite his fierce thirst from a long day of hunting. He didn’t want to know, but he did all the same, with all the dark certainty of his cursed blood. 

_Corthala magic. The thing I want least in the world, and the one thing I cannot seem to escape, even out here._

Though he had steadfastly avoided to have anything whatsoever to do with magic, there were some things that couldn’t be denied. When he had these flashes of intuition, he knew he had best pay attention to them. They had saved his life too many times for him to do otherwise. And now, when the Sphere loomed ever higher in his mind, he could less than ever afford to make mistakes. 

Valygar closed his eyes, trying think, to analyze the certainty that had come to him. Something was coming, something important. Lavok? Perhaps…but that didn’t feel entirely right. Something connected with Lavok? Yes, that had to be it. 

_The Cowled Wizards? Have they found me at last?_ He wasn’t foolish enough to think they would forget about him, no doubt they had already set scores of bounty hunters on his trail. 

_Well, I will be ready for them, if that is the case. And if I am to die, I will take as many of them as I can with me._

Valygar rose, his mouth set in a grim line, and his eyes fell on the glittering water of the brook, and the bubbles drifting to the surface. Glittering silver bubbles, each one perfectly formed. Yes. Each one a perfect Sphere. 

_No. I will not die yet. I cannot. Justice first, Lavok. Justice for my parents, and for all the Corthalas. You claimed them all, you and your magic. I wish I could tear this taint out of my body as I would rid myself of a limb with gangrene, but since I can’t, I will use it against you. If Corthala blood is what will open the Sphere, then so be it, when I am good and ready. And then, Corthala blood will be spilt. Yours or mine, Lavok. Soon. Soon, there will be an ending._

-*- 

The shadows were unending. Mazzy knelt in her cell, trying to shape a prayer to Arvoreen. It was no use though, the memories kept intruding. 

_Patrick. Oh, Patrick._

The shadows cold against her mind, invading her thoughts, chittering to her in a thousand cold and mocking voices. Her companions, fine and righteous folk to the last one, all of them twisted into these abominations, these vile mirror images of themselves. They came to her, now and then, howling, screeching, raging at her for being still alive, still in possession of solid flesh and warm breath. 

Why, why had she been spared? There had been whispered hints from her shadow captors, cruel jibes meant to terrorize her. Consort. The Shade Lord’s consort. What did it all mean? The attack had been swift, confusing, whatever kind of evil this Shade Lord was, she had never encountered its like before, or that of its terrifying servant. 

Only she had been spared, yes. But not for the reason the Shade Lord thought, she suspected. Arvoreen would never let her die like this, rotting in some dank dungeon, unable to strike a blow at those who had taken everything from her. Oh no. _Arvoreen, may I become Your Hand of Justice, to strike a terrible blow at the evil surrounding me. And if I must die, let it be with Your sword in my hand. Then I would go gladly, and with pride, as befits a champion of goodness and righteousness._

Mazzy prayed, and outside her cell, the gathering shadows pressed in, listening attentively to her words. 

-*-

And somewhere in the deep woods surrounding Imnesvale, a feast was being prepared. It was not to take place in any castle, and there were no invitation cards with fancy gold letters being sent out, but it was promising to be a grand feast all the same. 

On a high branch, a lynx was watching the people slowly starting the preparation, enjoying their laughter, their traded jokes and pranks. Tall, tufted ears twitched this way and that, and the tree cat’s bright green eyes were attentively fixed on the proceedings. 

_Oh, this will be perfect_ , the lynx thought, feeling the heady rush of anticipation. _Such a fun party – and what will come of it will be even better, if I get this right. Fun, games, and the most wonderful prank in the world, what more could anybody wish for? Let the others keep their drow, their dragons or giants…I know which Bhaalspawn I want to be the last one standing._

The lynx rested its head against its paws, closed its eyes and purred happily. So. Let the games begin.


	115. Pearls

**Cards Reshuffled 115 – Pearls**

_They say a story is like a pearl, a tiny bit of the sand of truth with years’ worth of shining, fancy lies formed around it. Trying to get the sand out isn’t easy even at the best of times, and that’s not even taking into account that quite a few pearls turn out to be fake._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

The sun had long since set over the treetops, painting the sky in radiant red and gold. Now, the night has come, spreading its deep blue cloak over the world. Zaerini took a deep breath of the cool night air and smiled. She had never considered herself to be a forest person – it wasn’t all that long ago that she had teased an irate Jaheira about how it was ‘all trees’ to her. But she had to admit to herself, it was very good to be out of Athkatla for a while, after recent events. She felt almost free out here, in the Umar woods. 

It wasn’t just being away from the plots and dangers of the city though. There was something about these woods, as opposed to all others. It was as if they were calling to her somehow, urging her on towards some strange but wonderful goal. Not just the village of Imnesvale either, although they’d probably reach that in another day or so. The half-elf frowned a little, leaning on her elbows as she stared into the campfire, watching the leaping flames. The crackling and hissing of the fire were soothing, and so was the soft hissing of the wind in the treetops. But there was something else as well. Some sound she could almost make out, but not quite. Something like singing, but so faint, so distant that she couldn’t be certain. It did remind her of something though.

_That strange leaf…the one I got inside that weird dream or whatever it was. I’d forgotten all about it, but that tune was playing in my dream._

“Jaheira?” she eventually asked. “Do you know if there’s anything…special about this forest? Apart from the recent problems, I mean?” 

The druid turned towards her, looking a little surprised at seeing anybody awake. “Child, you really ought to be getting your rest,” she said. “My watch is not over for another hour yet, and you need sleep.” 

“Thanks,” Zaerini said, smiling. “It’s all right, honestly. So…do you know anything? It’s just I get this funny feeling out here, you see. Not bad, but strange.” 

Jaheira shook her head. “I know of no specific tales, no. However, I think I know of what you speak. These woods feel very much alive, even more so than is common. They have a certain presence to them, that I have formerly sensed around elven communities.” 

“Elves? You think there might be elves living here?” 

“Possibly, though there are no known major elven settlements to speak of in these parts. Also, there is something else, something more.” Jaheira’s green eyes narrowed with thought, as she concentrated. “The presence is…larger, more powerful, than what I would expect around an elven settlement.”

“Can you tell what it is?” 

“No. I do not think it is evil as such, but it is powerful enough that it is bound to be dangerous. We should tread with caution here, lest we cause a disturbance. You would be wise to warn your wizard not to start any forest fires.” 

Rini chuckled a little at that. “I’ll see what I can do. If he’ll listen to me, that is.” 

“He will.” There was a slight, almost imperceptible catch in the druid’s voice, and her eyes turned towards the edge of the forest again. “He loves you, after all. Hold on to that, child, for as long as you can. Sometimes, we lose the ones we love all too soon.”

Zaerini bit her lower lip, then got to her feet and silently walked over to Jaheira, wrapping her arm around the older woman’s shoulders in a comforting hug. For a moment, Jaheira stiffened with surprise, but then she returned the hug, one of her hands lightly brushing over her companion’s red hair. They sat like that for quite some time, and deep inside the woods, they could still hear distant music. 

The next afternoon, they arrived in Imnesvale after an uneventful journey. The village was small, just a handful of houses clustered together close by a slowly moving river. No grand plazas or avenues here, there wasn’t even so much as a single main street, only grass and densely packed earth, with a few convenient wooden boards to keep your feet out of the much when it was raining. It was a pretty place, and by the looks of it, it should have been a peaceful place. However, it was not. 

“Oy, Mayor! When’s this crisis going to be solved, eh?” The speaker was a stolid, middle-aged farmer, and the accusing question was aimed at a very fat man standing on top of a large wooden stump near the center of the village. A small crowd of farmers and shepherds were gathered around him, and none of them looked happy. “When will ye be killin’ them ogres?” 

“Ogres? What’s this about ogres? Me and mine need to get back to herding, before the wolves gobble me flocks entire!” The second voice out of the crowd belonged to a dour-looking man with skin so reddened by wind and rain that he looked almost like a slab of raw meat. 

“It’s the Witch, I tell you!” a third man called out, his drooping moustache quivering with indignation. “It’s Umar, come to take us all!” A few low ‘ooohs’ and ‘aaaahs’ of dread rippled through the crowd. 

The mayor’s head bobbed nervously back and forth as he tried to look at all speakers at once, all of his chins wobbling. “Er…please, good folk, calm down!” he said in a timorous voice. “I assure you that everything that can be done, is being done!” 

“Aye? Then what about the ogres?”

“And the wolves!” 

“And Umar!”

“Oooooooh…Umar…” 

The mayor cleared his throat. “Well…I did send for the famous Knight, Mazzy Fentan, and her troupe of adventurers…only they haven’t come back yet…” 

“Eaten by the ogres, to be sure!” 

“Or the wolves!” 

“Or Umar!” 

“Ooooh…Umar…” 

By now, the mayor was sweating, and wiping his face with a large handkerchief. “Er…we also had word that another group of adventurers are on their way…I just don’t know when exactly they might get here…” At this point, his eyes fell upon Zaerini and her friends, and they lit up. “And…and here they are! Excuse us now, everybody, plans to be made, information to be shared, can’t stand around to chat anymore, so sorry…” 

The Mayor’s name turned out to be Minister Lloyd, and he was very eager to invite the adventurers into his home, introduce them to his wife, offer them tea and some quite delicious blueberry muffins, and attempt to draft them into service. 

“I could tell, just by looking at you, that you’re the sort of folks we need,” he gushed, stuffing half a muffin into his left cheek. “Powerful adventurers, not afraid to take on a challenge.” 

“Er…maybe,” Zaerini said. “How about if you tell us all what your problem is, exactly?” 

The Mayor’s face settled back into a worried frown. “I fear that is part of the problem,” he said. “We don’t know what it is that threatens our village, only that it’s…quite terrible. We've had a run of...killings and disappearances here, as of late. People murdered in their beds... their bodies disappearing... bodies found with the skins inside out.” 

Rini tried to imagine what that must look like. Then, she wished she hadn’t. 

“And you have learnt nothing so far?” Jaheira asked. “Nothing at all?” 

“Well…yes and no. Normally, you see, we would turn to our local ranger for something like this.” The Mayor’s eyes misted over momentarily. “Fine woman, that Merella…brave and strong, and quite the lovely lass, I might add…” He caught sight of his wife’s face, and rapidly cleared his throat. “Er…that is, she would normally handle something like this. Only, she’s gone and disappeared too.” 

“Some of the men went to her cabin, southwest of the village,” the Mayor’s wife said. “There was no sign of her there, and she normally leaves word if she plans to be away for more than a few days. Now, it has been over two weeks.” 

“Then more and more people disappeared!” The Mayor went on, wiping nervously at his face. “Shepherds minding their flocks…farmers and their families from outlying holds. People are frightened for their lives, scared to stay here, but scared to leave as well, since there is no telling what may happen if we try to leave.” 

“We encountered no particular danger on our way here,” Anomen said. “Presumably, the attackers were too cowardly to face armed warriors rather than untrained peasants.” 

“Perhaps…I don’t rightly know. All I know is, something must be done. And of course, everybody has their own ideas about what the threat is.” 

The Mayor’s wife Eina, as tall and skinny as her husband was fat, gave him a reproachful look along her pointed nose. “It’s the ogres, husband, and you know it full well. Dirty, lice-infested creatures, lurking around…what else could it be?” 

_Yes, what else could it be?_ Zaerini thought. _Ogres…I suppose ogres might hang around a place like this, using humans for easy food. But that bit with skin inside-out…that doesn’t sound like typical ogres to me, they normally just smash things to bits and eat them._

“We don’t know that for certain, my dear,” The Mayor filled in. “Though of course they did move in shortly before the killings began, so it’s very possible.” He turned to Zaerini and her friends again. “The ogres are in the hills, a bit north of the village. 'Course, others think it's a pack of very large wolves that's been ranging the hills for some years.” Then his voice lowered to a hiss, and his face went a few shades paler. “And others…others say it is the witch Umar herself. The great witch of the hills. Legend says she was behind many deaths like these, and even more terrible.”

“Phaw!” Eina scoffed and poured herself some more tea that she drank in little angry gulps. “Umar has been dead for over fivehundred years, husband! The ogres now, the ogres are real, not some fairy tale.” 

_Then again, dead people have a funny way of coming back, here in Amn_ , Rini thought. _Given the number of liches I’ve seen so far, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised to learn that this ‘Umar’ is another one._ “And who is this ‘Mazzy Fentan’ that I heard you mention before?” she asked. 

“Oh…she was…I mean, is an adventurer, much like you. Only shorter. She is a halfling you see, but a very brave warrior all the same. She and her troupe of followers set out for the hills about a week back.”

“And you have never seen them since?” Jaheira filled in. 

“No…I’m afraid not.” The Mayor gave his guests a pleading look. “I know it is much to ask…but we are in desperate need of aid. What gold we have, we will gladly give you if you deal with the threat to our village, as well as my greatest treasure, the heirloom armor of my forefathers.” 

Rini thought about this for a little while. That song…she could almost hear it still, beckoning her onward. “We’ll see what we can do,” she said. “I feel like taking a hike into those hills anyway…” 

“So, what do you all think?” Zaerini asked her friends a little later. “Ogres, Wolves, or Witch?” 

“Ooooh, Ogres and Wolves and Evil Witches, oh my!” Minsc said, shaking his head. “Which is the Evil aching to be prodded in the buttocks by the mighty feet of Minsc and the sharp claws of Boo? It is enough to make poor Minsc’s head ache, just thinking about it.” 

“Lacing your boots in the morning is enough to make your head ache,” Edwin muttered. “Whatever is the cause of these disturbances (And I doubt it is more than a few peasants frightened of their own shadows) we will not find out about it standing around here. I say we go investigate that ranger’s cabin.” 

“We probably should, yes,” Rini agreed. “But I think we should have a look around the village first, see if the locals know anything worthwhile. And we should restock our supplies as well, just in case this little walk in the woods turns out to be a lengthy one.”

“Agreed,” Jaheira said. The druid had been in a thoughtful mood ever since the conversation with the Mayor, as if something was troubling her. “I am curious about those wolves, myself. Though a cornered wolf can be dangerous, it is not like them to prey upon humans in the way they seemingly have here. Something is very wrong about that.”

“Might it not have been something other than the wolves, then?” Anomen suggested. “Those ogres spring to mind. Fierce beasts they are, though not as fierce as the Hillgnasher giants I once did…”

“Yet the wolves had been sighted, and had been seen to be aggressive,” Jaheira interrupted him. “I would like to ask the villagers about that.”

“I guess we’ll split up for an hour, then meet back here,” Rini said, pointing at the little grassy area in the center of the village. _I would so like to go with Eddie…but I’d better not, I think it would be good for him to cooperate a little with one of the others._ “Let’s see. Edwin and Jaheira. Minsc and Anomen. And me and Jan.” 

“What?!” Edwin immediately protested. “But…”

“You were not at the top of my wish list either, Edwin,” Jaheira said, giving the disappointed wizard a critical look. “But we will both make do. Besides, it will do you good. Perhaps you will actually be able to notice something other than Zaerini’s anatomy and contribute something to this mission.” 

“I do not notice her anatomy!” Edwin’s cheeks flushed a dark red, and meeting Rini’s eyes didn’t help him any. “That is, certainly I notice such a delectable body, only a man suffering from tetraplegia as well as blindness would not react to it, but my own impeccable sense of observation and deduction is as always completely intact.” 

“Of course it is, Eddie,” Zaerini said, winking at her lover. “And I’m sure you’ll put it to good use, now and later. I’ll see you in one hour then.” 

The look Edwin gave her across his shoulder as Jaheira hauled him off promised definite retribution. _Well, no problem with that. Actually, it might be fun, and a bit of teasing was always good for him._

“Minsc wishes he could go with his Witch,” Minsc said, “But there should be no danger as long as Little Rini stays inside the village. Boo says not to go walking in the woods though, or the wolves might get you.” 

“That’s all right, Minsc, I’ll wait for the rest of you guys.” The large ranger waved cheerfully and walked off, Anomen in tow. 

“So, just you and me then?” Jan said, tilting his head backwards so he could give her his usual twisted grin. “Don’t tell me you ditched Red because of a wild torrent of passion for the humblest turnip-expert in the world?” 

”Alright, I won’t tell you that,” Zaerini said, smiling back at him. “Actually, I picked you not because of turnips, but because of stories. There seem to be a lot of stories floating about this place…but you and I both know what stories are like, a lot of filling around a little bit of truth. Somehow, I think you’re going to be pretty good at hearing which bit of truth is the important one here.” 

-*-

“They put a WHAT in their chicken?” Edwin stared incredulously at the wizened little old man in front of him, a very annoying fellow to be sure. If it had been up to him, he and Jaheira would never even have stopped to talk with him, much less taken the conversation in such a ludicrous direction. 

“Somethin’ nice and shiny, so it was,” the old fellow said, nodding sagely. “Couldn’t say fer sure what it was, but their dead daughter was one o’ them fool tin-can adventurers, so might be anything.” 

“We have no interest in any farmers, their deceased offspring, and certainly not in their flock of prancing poultry, you blithering idiot! (Chickens – were there ever any more brainless creatures in the world?)” 

“Edwin, be quiet and leave any feats of diplomacy to an adult,” Jaheira firmly said. “We do not have the time for one of your tantrums at the moment.” 

“Tantrums?! I am merely expressing my displeasure at this unenlightening endeavor – we are wasting our time here. (And I am certainly adult enough. At least my Hellkitten never had reason to complain about that.)” 

“Please excuse him,” Jaheria told the old man. “He is young, foolish and in love – any trait of which makes for erratic and temperamental behavior. Combine all three and witness the result.” 

The annoying old codger simply chuckled. “Have fun with the chickens, folks. Now, that reminds me of a story ‘bout this one fella who got amorous with a chicken and…” 

At this point, Edwin and Jaheira gave each other a horrified look, and swiftly made themselves scarce, both of them silently grateful that they at least hadn’t been paired up with Jan. 

-*-

As for Jan and Zaerini, they had made their way into the local tavern, which was surprisingly crowded for this time of day. It was a nice enough place, if pretty dark and crowded. The one major drawback was the long strings of garlic hanging all over the place though, winding their way along the walls and crisscrossing each other beneath the soot-darkened ceiling in a complex web. The smell was strong enough that it made Rini take an instinctual step backwards upon first entering. 

_Forget it, Kitten_ , Softpaws firmly declared even as she slunk out between her mistress’ legs. _I’m not going in there; the smell would stick in my fur for weeks._

_Can’t say that I blame you…I’ll try to be as quick as possible, I promise._

_You do that…and I still think you’ll need a proper wash afterwards._

The person who stood out the most inside the inn was the innkeeper himself, a tall and dour-looking man with a neat and squarely shaped gray beard. “Strangers…” he said in a deep and doom-laden voice. “Strangers are come to the Imnesvale Inn. It is a portent, I tell you!” 

There was a brief and embarrassed moment of silence, during which there was absolutely no thunder, howling wolves or insane gibbering ghostly laughter. 

“Er…hello to you too,” Rini said. “A portent of what, exactly?”

“DOOM!” the man boomed. “Doom…or SALVATION!” 

At this, there was a snigger from the skinny boy in his lower teens who was sweeping peanut-shells off the bare boards of the floor. “Oh, come off it, Vince, it’s all noise and ye know it.” 

“My name is VINCENZO, you disrespectful urchin! Now back to work!” 

“Yes Sir, whatever you say, Sir,” the boy said and bent over his broom again. Rini noticed him sticking his tongue out at the innkeeper when the man wasn’t looking though. 

“So,” she said as she climbed onto one of the stools standing next to the bar, leaned her elbows on the bardisk and thoughtfully chewed on a peanut. “This seems a nice enough place. What’s with all the ‘doom’ stuff?” 

Vincenzo leaned forward, close enough that she could feel his hot and garlic-smelling breath against her face. She forced herself to maintain a polite smile, even as her nostrils tried to suck themselves shut. “It is all because of her,” the innkeeper whispered in a voice that nearly made the rafters shake. 

“Her?”

“Aye. The…Umar Witch.” There was still no lightning, nor any howling wolves or clanging of tombstone doors, but somehow the look in Vincenzo’s rolling eyes hinted that they were still there, where only he could hear them. “I will tell you, miss, a tale of horror to make all the hairs on your head stand up with fright and your blood turn to ice in your veins! The tale of the Umar Witch, and the Umar Witch Project!” 

“Oh, I know that one!” Jan cut in. “That’s the one where they all jump into the corner and die, right? Heard that one from my Uncle Scratchy, pretty pointless story if you ask me, but good for party games…” 

“You can tell it to me later, Jan,” Zaerini hastily said. “Please go on, Vincenzo.” 

And as the story went on, Rini found herself desperately wishing that this were one of those stories that had not one iota of truth in it.” 

-*-

Meanwhile, Minsc and Anomen had wandered about the village, chatting with people here and there. So far, they had learnt nothing of particular substance, but they were far from ready to give up. And then they came across the crying boy. 

Well, perhaps he wasn’t exactly a boy, Anomen admitted to himself. A young man, in his late teens perhaps, with a mostly beardless face and big innocent eyes, round and a little cow-like. The priest immediately silently berated himself for the unkind thought. The youth was clearly unhappy, potentially in need of aid, and could not help it if he looked a trifle helpless. _Was I ever that young? Helm preserve me, I hope not._

“Ho, why are you crying and being unhappy on such a pretty day, friend?” Minsc asked, giving the youngster a friendly clap on the shoulder that made him wince. “Pretty days are not for crying, they are for running free through the grass, your trusty hamster companion at your side. Do you have a hamster?”

“N-no…” the young man stammered, staring alternately between Anomen, Minsc, and the beady little black eyes of the furry creature being shoved under his nose. “I…don’t have a hamster.” 

“Then no wonder you are so unhappy! Far too few people in these lands have hamsters of their very own, and so none are as happy as Minsc and Boo!” The large man paused. “Even my other good friend from Rasheman doesn’t have one. And he’s not very happy either. I should try to find him a hamster as soon as possible, or maybe an ice weasel would be even better…”

“Minsc,” Anomen tried, “there are other reasons for distress than having lost your hamster.”

“Oh, of course, Minsc knows that. Losing your Witch is also very bad, Minsc still gets sad sometimes thinking about losing his old Witch, and if he ever lost Little Rini, both Minsc and Boo would cry for days and days.” He turned to the young man again. “Did you lose your Witch?”

The youth sniffled and wiped his eyes. “Not…not a Witch. I lost my…my g-girlfriend though. My sweet Colette!” Tears once more started flowing freely from those brimming eyes and Anomen felt a twinge of sympathy. After all, hadn’t he himself just been crossed in love? 

“I am sorry to hear that,” he said. “No doubt some unworthy fellow stole her away from you. Some disgusting wizard, I am sure.” 

“Actually…yes…” 

”I knew it! Wizards…they can’t be trusted, can they? Courting women who deserve better…” 

The young man blinked with surprise. “Now you sound like that odd fellow Corthala who lives out in the woods,” he said. “He is always going on about wizards. But you don’t understand…it’s Colette’s father you see…” 

_Corthala._ The name rang a bell with Anomen, a clear and distinct bell. _Of course! The wanted murderer, the one that Tolgerias fellow was after. A wanted murderer hiding in the forest, and grisly murders taking place in the same forest. The case seems clear enough, and it is I who learnt the truth!_ “Please go on,” he told the crying man. “I am very curious to learn what you have to say about this ‘Corthala’.”


	116. The Horrors of Imnesvale

**Cards Reshuffled 116 – The Horrors of Imnesvale**

_We fear the monsters that come in the night, the ghosts and goblins. And yet, the worst monsters of all are the ones that live inside us._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“…and their bodies were found laid out in a clearing in the northern forest, horribly mutilated and forming the pattern.”

“What pattern?” Zaerini asked, swallowing a little. She didn’t believe more than a fraction of what Vincenzo was telling her, of course, but man, he sure sounded as if he believed in what he said. 

“The dark and unholy pattern of Umar, of course,” the innkeeper went on, then swiftly murmured a brief prayer to Waukeen. “It is forbidden to speak of it.” 

“Then why did you just do so?” 

“Well, I didn’t draw it, did I? That’s the forbidden part, actually showing it.” 

“How about describing it? If we come across any strange patterns in the forest, we want to be sure it’s the right one, after all.” 

Vincenzo cleared his throat. “Er…there are actually no records at all about what it looked like, except that it was horrible. After all, that was 200 years ago, the last truly great rampage that the Umar Witch went on.” He lowered his voice even more. “And then…three months ago, there were these kids, two boys and a girl. Young apprentice wizards, so they said, though they all seemed like decent enough kids to me. Said they were doing a project on the Umar Witch, had all sorts of mystical magical equipment with them that they took into the forest. And…they never…returned. All that was found was the diary belonging to the poor lass, and it was all torn up and stained with…BLOOD!” His voice took on a more businesslike note. “Actually, I happen to have the book, right here. If you’re sure about going into the forest, you may want to buy it, seeing how it could save your lives one day. Of course, I’d have to charge a pretty steep price for it, since it’s one of a kind…about 500 gold or so sounds right to me.” 

“That’s very expensive for a book,” Rini said, shaking her heard. “I don’t know, I think I’d want to take a look at it first. Don’t you agree, Jan? Jan?” She looked around for the gnome but couldn’t see him anywhere. 

“Right here, your worship,” came Jan’s voice from a small door in the corner behind the bar. There was a blurry ripple in the air, and the gnome became visible, as did the thin volume he was holding in his hands. “Fascinating stuff, this ‘Umar Witch Project’, except there are far too few griffins in it. Anyway, there’s about 500 copies of it in that room where I found it.” 

“Is that so?” Zaerini said, looking at Vincenzo who had the grace to blush. “Well, if 500 gold was a reasonable price for one of a kind, then I think one gold is a reasonable price for one of 500, don’t you, Vince?” 

“It’s Vincenzo!” 

“Get over it, Vince. It was a nice scam, and I’m sure there’ll be a lot of strangers you can con later on with your ghost stories, but not us. Sell it to me for my price, and I might just tell the story elsewhere, bringing you more customers, how’s that?” 

The innkeeper’s eyes lit up. “You’d do that?” 

“I just might…if you in turn let me do some advertising for my new theatre in your inn. I scratch your back, you scratch mine, what do you say, Vince? Oh, and I mean that strictly in a symbolical way, in case you were wondering.” 

Vincenzo smiled, a big and beaming smile showing a lot of teeth. “A woman after my own heart – and you have a deal!” 

-*-

“I cannot believe you are seriously contemplating doing this,” Edwin said, his face a pale shade of green as he watched the chickens. The chickens, those white and fluffy little brainless creatures, looked back at him in mute incomprehension, apart from the occasional soft cluck. “Couldn’t we simply slaughter the lot of them, and pick up the bauble from the remains? (Besides, it would make us a nice dinner. It has been some time since I exposed my Hellkitten to fine Thayvian cuisine, the kind that makes your taste buds tingle with wanton desire. Now, I should still have some Thayvian Red Peppers stored in my pack, perfect for a sizzling hot romantic dinner…)” 

“Absolutely out of the question!” Jaheira replied and went back to critically observing the chickens. “We may have bought them honestly…” 

“And at a far higher than reasonable price, I might add! (By all rights they should _give_ me the stupid animals for the honor of feeding a Red Wizard.)” 

“As I said,” the druid went on, “we may have bought these animals honestly, but that does not mean we have the right to treat them with cruelty.” 

“So, we slaughter them painlessly! A simple Death spell should easily handle that, they won’t feel a thing and there will be no need for any disgusting activities such as you are proposing!” Edwin’s hands had already begun to move, shaping the spell, when Jaheira grabbed him hard enough by the wrist that he yelped out loud. 

“I said no! Now, pay attention instead of complaining. We only know that the gem that the farmer hid is inside one of the chickens, but not which one, and the animals themselves do not seem to understand me when I try to question them about it.” 

“Not surprising. You cannot expect much of a brain to fit inside that tiny a cranium, after all.” 

“So, we must examine them ourselves. Now, what you do is that you take the chicken by its legs, and then you turn it over like so…” 

Edwin sighed deeply, but he did pick up an angrily squawking chicken, dreading the moment of truth. Somehow, molesting poultry was not what he had envisioned adventuring would be like. 

-*- 

Anomen and Minsc hadn’t got much further with the young man pining for his lost love. The fellow swore he would tell them all about Valygar Corthala and where to find him but refused to say a word unless they assisted him in his courting of ‘the fair Colette’, daughter of the local Cowled Wizard, Jermyn. Eventually, Anomen had agreed. Annoying as it was to be balked like this, it was for a good cause after all. He asked Minsc to wait outside, thinking that the large ranger’s brand of diplomacy might not work very well with a tetchy mage. 

Regrettably, Anomen himself didn’t have much more luck. The wizard Jermyn, a paunchy little man with a ludicrously long beard, seemed utterly determined that his daughter not ‘run off with some wishy-washy young idiot who sniffles as soon as you look at him.’ He was also singularly uninterested in the murders happening in the area, professing to know nothing whatsoever about them. Briefly, Anomen contemplated bringing up Valygar Corthala, but then decided against it. That might bring unwanted interference from the Cowled Wizards, after all. The only thing Jermyn seemed interesting in discussing was the rare magical ingredients he needed for his current research project…a large stone golem that stood motionless in the middle of his study, staring at nothing with blank eyes. 

“The blood of a mimic,” Jermyn declared. “My scrying tells me there should be one in the area, but I have been unable to locate it exactly. Find me that, and I’ll be eternally grateful, not to mention reward you. Of course, there is the downside that a mimic is a shapechanger, so you won’t know what it will look like until you come across it, but it often imitates treasure of some kind, in order to trick adventurers to come close.”

“I will see what I can do,” Anomen said, and then said his goodbyes. If the blood could be found, perhaps he could pass it on to the young suitor, and thus resolve the plight of the young lovers? It was something to consider, at least. The cleric stepped outside into the sunlight, and then blinked with surprise. There was Minsc…but there were also three teenage boys, gazing adoringly at the ranger, big smiles on their faces. 

“Bastard swords and real Baator ale!” gushed the first one, a tall and gangly lad with so many pimples that Anomen was hard pressed to see any clear skin between them. “You’re the best, Sir!” 

“Yeah!” said the second, who was a short and skinny little blond wearing overly large pants that he kept having to hitch up. His voice oscillated between a piping soprano and a hoarse bass. “Now we can be real adventurers, just like you!” 

“Our parents, like, try to hold us back all the time,” declared the third, pouting a little. He had dyed his hair black, very badly. The dye had only taken partially, leaving him with black streaks through a mop of naturally mousy hair. Anomen privately thought it made him look a bit like a skunk, and the pungent smell of unwashed teenager added to the impression. “They don’t understand us, we’re, like, tormented unfettered souls yearning for, like, the call of adventure! Plus, being an adventurer gets you babes.” 

“Yeah! Babes!” his friends eagerly agreed. “Lots of hot chicks if you’re an adventurer!” 

“Boo approves of young boys wanting to do Deeds of Goodness and Heroism,” Minsc said, scratching his head, “but he doesn’t understand what chickens has to do with it?”

“Never mind, Sir! And thanks again!” 

The boys took off, talking and laughing excitedly. 

“Bye bye, little boys!” Minsc shouted after them. “Remember to stick the Evil Ones with the pointy end!” 

“Minsc?” Anomen asked, feeling his stomach sinking a little with dread even as he did so. “Could you tell me what that was all about?” 

“Oh, the nice little boys wanted to be Heroic Adventurers, friend Anomen! They asked Minsc to buy them the things they needed, and Minsc is always happy to help.” 

“So…you bought ale for those boys. And swords? Real swords? As in sharp, pointed, lethal weapons of personal destruction?” 

“Of course, only a real sword is any use at all, good Anomen. Minsc once tried a wooden sword when he was very little, but wooden swords are only for play and break too easy. Why do you ask?” 

“I…no, never mind.” Anomen rubbed his eyebrows a little, trying to think, hoping the boys wouldn’t get themselves killed. But they were already gone, and the deed was done. “I don’t suppose you got their names, or their addresses? No? No, I didn’t think so.” _Perhaps one can put ‘Anonymous Young Fool’ on the headstones? Thank Helm I was never that foolish and that likely to overestimate my own prowess. Thinking all you need is some ale and a sword, and then you are an instant hero…_ ”Let us go talk with some other people now. And Minsc?”

“Yes, friend Anomen?” 

“From now on, I think I should handle any purchases.” 

_Somewhat later…_

“And then we ran into this little girl, Kaatje, who apparently knew the ranger Merella,” Zaerini explained, then rubbed at an annoying mosquito bite on her left arm. The adventurers were walking through the forest, heading for Merella’s cottage, sharing their stories on the way. “She said she used to go visit Merella, but the last time she saw some kind of shadow coming out of Merella’s cottage, and it left behind a trail of what was probably blood.” 

“And you are certain the child was not merely exaggerating?” Jaheira asked. 

“Well, I can’t be sure of course…but she seemed to believe what she was saying, at least. I suppose we’ll find out. Anyway, of all our possible leads, Merella’s cottage is supposedly the closest one, so I think it makes sense to start looking there before we go search out those ogres, or go hunting for Umar…though that book I bought does look interesting.” 

“Do not forget about Valygar Corthala, my lady,” Anomen proudly commented. “Upon my honor, I feel assured that he will turn out to be the culprit.” He stretched a little, and the sunlight streaming down through the treetops glinted off his newly polished armor. “I should have no trouble apprehending him on my own, no doubt the man is a weakling and a fop, as so many members of the old noble families.” 

Zaerini turned her head a little, and looked at Jaheira, just managing to catch the druid rolling her eyes. 

“Is that so?” Jaheira said in a low voice that was almost a purr. She seemed more at ease out here in the forest, Rini noticed, in her natural domain. Though her step was as brisk as ever, there was a gliding quality to it, and she smoothly stepped around rocks and across fallen branches without ever seeming to need to look at the ground. “You feel you do not need any assistance at all?” 

“What, lady Jaheira, for apprehending a common killer? I should hardly think so.” 

“How curious. And here I thought that you meant to bring along those boys you recruited in the village.” 

Anomen’s cheeks turned a bright pink, and he cleared his throat nervously. “Ah…you heard about that?” 

“Yes. Minsc told me about it. Could you really do nothing to stop him from equipping irresponsible children with alcohol and edged weapons? And if so, why not?” 

“Er…I…” 

Zaerini felt truly sorry about the way the cleric was squirming under Jaheira’s firm gaze, she had been subject to that look enough times herself after all. _Maybe I ought to help him out._

“So, Jaheira,” she said with a bright smile, “you never did get around to telling us just what you and Eddie did with all those chickens you said you bought.”

Edwin, who had been walking right behind her, suddenly groaned. “Please, do we really have to bring this subject up? (It was a traumatic enough experience in itself. And if I never see a chicken in my life again, I will be ecstatically pleased.) Now I need to wash my hands again.” 

“But you’ve washed them five times already since we left the village!” 

“That is clearly inadequate – and I will not explain why.”

“We found this,” Jaheira said, and reached into her belt pouch to retrieve something round and glittering that she tossed to the bard. “It belonged to the adventurer daughter of the farmers from whom we purchased those chickens, and she had found it just before she died. As for the chickens, I sold them on to the innkeeper.”

Rini gave the object an interested look. It was a gem, a large one, about the size of a plum, and of a kind she’d never seen before. Bright yellow, smooth and round, and inside it there seemed to be a flickering light, white and hot. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “Where did this daughter find it?” 

“Where else?” Jaheira said, with a brief nod of her head towards the darkness between the densely clustered spruces along the narrow path. “In the forest to the north of here, the part of the forest where the ‘Umar Witch’ supposedly performed her atrocities.”

Can’t say I’m all that surprised. “And how did she die again?” 

Jaheira’s mouth set in a grim line. “She was found dying on her parents’ porch at dawn. Her belly had been torn open, and…something…had been feeding off her. She was lying on soft ground, the wounds were fresh, and yet there were no tracks around her, only her own.” 

“Oh. I see.” _Imnesvale? This village should be called ‘Ominousvale’._

“If there were no tracks,” Edwin says, “that seems to rule out the ogres. (Unless they have developed wings somehow. Like chickens. No! Don’t think about chickens!)”

“It sure looks that way,” Rini agreed. “But we don’t know for sure that there’s only one thing at work here, the ogres could still have done some of the killings. Let’s keep an open mind for now and see what we can dig up at Merella’s cottage.” 

_Figuratively, I hope_ , Softpaws said. The cat had been rather subdued ever since arriving in Imnesvale, and now Zaerini picked her up and gave her a soothing rub behind the ears.

_What’s wrong, Softy?_

_This place…there has been something here, not long ago. Something bad, something that stinks so I can hardly think. You should get into your proper shape, then you’d know what I mean._

_I might do just that…it could be helpful. Softy? What does it smell of, exactly?_

_What else? Death, Kitten._

And with that cheerful thought still ringing in her head, Zaerini set eyes upon Merella’s cottage at last. It was a long, low log-house, its wood darkened by old age, and it was set in a small clearing. By the porch, Rini noticed a vegetable patch, but whatever it was that had grown there had been completely overtaken by weeds by now. In the distance, she could still hear chirping birds and the bubbling of the stream, but the sounds seemed somehow muffled, as if they came from another plane. The dark windows of the cottage looked back at her blankly, giving nothing away. 

“Right…” the bard said once she had tried the door and found it unlocked. “Let’s take a look inside.” Her friends all nodded their assent, except for Jan, who was staring at the vegetable patch, his eyes wide with dismay. “Jan? What’s wrong?” 

“Those…those poor turnips!” the gnome exclaimed, and he sounded quite choked. “All dead, dead, dead and decayed! Oh, that my poor eyes should have to witness this!”

Rini squinted a little, looking at the vegetable patch. She wasn’t very knowledgeable about such things, but she trusted Jan’s instincts. If he said there were dead turnips under those weeds, he was probably right. “I’m sorry, Jan,” she said. 

“Minsc is sorry too, to see the little gnome sad, even though he doesn’t understand why,” Minsc said, and patted Jan encouragingly on the head. 

Jan sniffed. “Taken from us in the prime of their life…there must be vengeance for this, and there will be!” He gave Minsc a sly look. “In the meantime, I might be comforted just a little bit if I could hold something soft and fuzzy, like a kindly hamster.” 

“No! You will only try to steal him again; Boo has warned me against your clever tricks. He stays with _me_.” 

“And in the meantime;” Jaheira said, “I think we should all stay together, in case of danger, and not let ourselves get caught up with trifles. Shall we go, then?” 

“Yes,” Zaerini said. “Let’s go. Before Umar catches up with us and eats us all.” 

The inside of the cottage was mostly dark, due to the small size of the window. The first room seemed to serve as a joint kitchen and dining room, and there was a door beyond it leading into what was probably the bedroom. Rini hastily looked around the room, noticing the ashes scattered on the floor around the fireplace, the table set for one, where a piece of meat and some potatoes were rotting in a puddle of congealed sauce, the few books and papers torn up and strewn across the floor. Of Merella there was no visible sign, but Rini could smell dust, and the rot of the food, and underneath that…

“Blood,” she said, not realizing she had said it out loud until the words left her mouth. “In that other room, and there’s a lot of it.” She bit her lip, fighting to keep control of herself. It wasn’t nausea that gripped her, though she wished it had been. Inside, a part of her was howling with glee, delighting in the blood that had been shed here, urging her to rip and to tear and to… _NO! I am not a monster, I’m not!_ The buzzing in her ears wasn’t just imaginary, she realized. Flies, a swarm of them, in the next room. 

“Hellkitten?” Edwin’s voice, beautiful to her ears, calling her back from the brink. The wizard had taken hold of her hand, holding it between his own, rubbing it gently with his thumb. “Is it him again? Your…sire?” 

Rini nodded, and then closed her eyes for a moment. “It’ll pass…just give me a moment.” She let herself be held, relaxing into her lover’s arms, slowly feeling the murderous will of Bhaal recede, though it did not depart entirely. 

“It’s not just blood,” she said. “It’s murder, violent murder…it stirred him up.”

“It is getting worse, is it not?” Jaheira asked, a concerned look in her green eyes. “The taint, I mean. Perhaps you should not go in there.” 

“I have to. I have to know that I won’t…freak out completely. If I avoid it, maybe there’ll be some later time when I’m not prepared, and I do lose it.” The bard swallowed heavily. “I won’t enjoy it, but I have to.” But even though she was telling the truth, a small part of her laughed, telling her that she was lying. Part of her would enjoy it. 

“Minsc will look after his Witch,” Minsc promised, patting her cheek. “If she goes berserk, Minsc and Boo will sing soothing lullabies to calm little Rini down, so don’t worry.” 

“Oh. Thanks, Minsc. I’ll try not to. Worry or go berserk, that is.” 

It was worse than she had expected, however. The inner room was indeed a bedroom, and here the stench of blood was even more intense, thick and cloying. It was a small room, pretty much all that fit in there was the bed, and on the bed…

_Oh gods. Oh, this is bad._

The blood had congealed already, its dark brown stains turning the torn blue bed sheets hard and sticky. There were flies crawling in it, and their eager buzzing grew like a thunderstorm in a Zaerini’s ears, matching the frenzied beating of her heart. There was blood splattered all over the walls too, making the formerly neat little bedroom look like a slaughterhouse. With that much blood, there should have been a corpse present, something gutted and spread wide open, with glistening organs swelling out of the bloated belly, with milky white eyes and skin sliding off the bones. There was none though. There was only the blood. 

“I…fear the ranger Merella is dead,” Anomen said in a shaky voice. 

Zaerini hardly heard him. She was looking at the bed, and at the blood. There was a teddy bear lying on the bed, its head torn off, and blood twisting its fur into dark spikes. 

“So much of it…” Jaheira murmured. “Whatever creature did this, it should have trailed blood all over the floor, and not just in this room. Yet there are no tracks at all, I do not understand it.” 

Zaerini didn’t hear much of that either. The buzzing of the flies grew ever louder, and they seemed almost to be speaking with her, in the droning, dark voice of her sire. She should be horrified at this, she knew. And yet, the part of her that heard the voice of the flies was savoring the slaughter, glorying in it. That part was growing stronger.


	117. A Man and His Sphere

**Cards Reshuffled 117 – A Man and His Sphere**

_Sometimes, it seems to me that every adventurer has a little hang-up or two. You know, little quirks. Oddities. Weird habits or prejudices. As party leader you need to try to find a way to make those oddities fit together somehow. Or failing that, get yourself a really sturdy whip to keep your companions from killing each other._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

It took Zaerini a few minutes to collect herself again, and then she felt better. She had retreated outside, and was sitting on the porch, with her knees drawn up to her chin and her arms wrapped around them. The smell of blood was fainter out here, and that helped. Edwin sitting next to her, his arm around her shoulders, helped even more though. 

After a little while, the others came outside as well. “Child?” Jaheira asked. “How are you feeling now?” 

“Better, thanks. Much better with some fresh air.” The bard managed a feeble grin. “Don’t worry, Bhaal won’t make me suddenly freak out and try to tear you all to pieces or something. So…did you guys find anything else.” 

“Yes,” the druid said, holding up a battered and bloodstained book. “It seems to be Merella’s diary. There are some interesting entries too. Listen to this. ‘Flamerule 12. Dark creatures roam the forests. Several townspeople have been slain by some unknown predator. Everyone seems to have their own opinion of what is doing the killing. The strangest thing is that the bodies are disappearing in the morning. This leaves me baffled, for most signs point to a pack of wolves that have been in the area for a long time. Wolves don't steal bodies.’”

“And wolves do not have the stink of Evil about them,” Minsc commented, “but poor Boo’s nose got all tingly with the smell of it inside that house.” 

“Yes, Minsc…I believe we all smelled something of the sort. Now, the next entry. ‘Flamerule 13.   
Or perhaps I should say wolf-like creatures. At night while I've been patrolling, I've often caught shadowy glimpses of these 'wolves' running alongside me. I've tried to attract their attention, but they ignore me. I find this most strange, as if the pack is being controlled by someone else. Years ago, I spoke with the pack leaders and they were cordial. Now they either flee from me, or, and I fear to say this, they stalk me.’”

Rini shivered. “Poor woman…all alone out here, and with those…things…creeping up on her. I wonder why she didn’t go to the village, like the others?” 

“She was a ranger,” Jaheira simply said. “She was sworn to protect the people of the village, and she tried her best to do so. Now, listen to the final entry. ‘Flamerule 21. It is near noon and still the wood outside my cabin seems full of shadows. I've been hard pressed to hear birds and most of the larger animals have long fled. I plan to find the wolf's den (this afternoon). I've drawn a map to it. All signs point to them as being the culprits, but what wolves act like these? They are wolves with the cunning of men. And there is something else, a whispering in my mind. It is faint now, in the waking hours, but while I sleep, I dream only of this voice and the face behind it. Whether it is connected to the voices, I do not know. I suspect by the time that the sun sets tonight I'll have answers to my questions.’” 

“And I guess she did,” Rini said. “This sure sounds very bad. What do you suppose it could be? Werewolves?” 

Jaheira hesitated momentarily. “Werewolves can be dangerous, that is true. But they are corporeal creatures – they would still leave tracks, the same as normal wolves. And then there is the matter of this ‘voice’ to consider.” 

“Whatever these ‘wolf creatures’ may be, it seems a certainty that somebody is controlling them,” Edwin remarked. “Of course, my magic will easily be a match for whatever necromancer or mad lich we may come across.” 

“Maybe it really is Umar,” Zaerini said, chuckling a little. The laughter seemed to stick in her throat though. “I got that ‘Umar Hills Project’ book for fun, but I’m starting to think I should check it out. I’ll start reading it tonight, I think.” Then she thought of something. “No tracks…no visible ones, but maybe I could shapeshift and find something out?”

“No,” Edwin firmly said. “I saw how that room affected you – who knows what will happen if you get an even stronger impression of that blood smell?”

“Edwin is right,” Jaheira said, nodding. “It may not happen often, but this time he is. If anybody should shapeshift, it should be me. It will not be necessary though. Merella drew her map in the diary – all we need to do is follow it to the place she has marked. It is quite some distance into the woods to the north of here.” 

“Let me guess,” Rini said. “It’s in the part of the woods supposedly haunted by Umar?”

Jaheira nodded. “It is.”

“Figures. It’s never just one monster, is it? We always have to get a full set. All right. Let’s go find the big, bad wolves.” 

They traveled north during the course of that day, with nothing sinister bothering them on the way. As the sun was beginning to sink below the treetops, they reached a small mountain, and their path was blocked. “Across or around?” Rini asked Minsc and Jaheira, the two most forest-competent members of her group. 

“According to Merella’s map, there should be a hidden path,” the druid said, consulting the map. “Yes, here it is.”

“Hidden path? Why would anybody want, or need, to hide a path out here?”

“I have no idea.” Jaheira squinted at the map again. “Hold on…there is a building marked here, on the top of the mountain. That was not on the regular map I bought back in the village.” 

“Perhaps the ranger had a secret love nest there,” Edwin scoffed. “Though whom she could possibly find to arrange a tryst with out here escapes me, unless she has a thing for ogres.” 

Anomen’s face brightened. “Valygar Corthala! It has to be! Being a cunning and devious rogue, he has surely hidden himself away in that place, like the coward he is, rather than choosing to own up to his crimes. I still maintain that he is the evil mastermind behind all the misfortunes that have befallen this place.”

“How could he possibly be?” Rini asked. “I mean, a ranger who’d gone nuts and become a rabid killer might get along with a regular wolf pack, I suppose…but this is hardly the work of regular wolves, according to Merella’s diary.” 

“And Corthala is hardly a regular ranger,” Anomen darkly said. “I have…heard rumors about that family before now, though I never put much stock in them.”

“Rumors? What kind of rumors?”

“Rumors of dark magic, my lady, necromancy of the worst kind. It is said some terrible doom has marked the Corthalas, and through the last centuries many of them have died violent deaths. We will do well to trust nothing this fiend says, once we confront him. Aye, I wager he was the one who used his evil sorcery to whisper in poor Merella’s dreams.” 

“A ranger and a sorcerer?” Jan remarked, chuckling. “My, this Valygar fellow seems very multitalented. If he knows how to do the Griffin Dance as well, I say we ask him to join us.” 

“The…griffin dance?” Zaerini asked, and then wished she hadn’t. 

“Absolutely, your Worship! It’s the dance in gnomish circles. Here, I’ll show you. Just bend at the knees, just like that, push your bottom out, waggle your arms up and down and squawk.”

“I’ll pass, thanks. But you know, if you can get this Valygar to do it, I’ll join in.” 

Jan’s eyes were glittering in a very ominous way. “Deal!” he said. “And if I lose, I’ll give you something. How about some nice modifications to your bow?” 

“Sounds good to me.” Rini clapped her hands together. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go see who lives up there…and if it’s Valygar, we’ll take it from there, with or without dancing.” 

-*-

Valygar Corthala was not having a particularly pleasant evening. The shadows around his cabin seemed to have grown longer in recent nights, longer and deeper, darker than they ought to have been. Something was amiss in the woods, the birds were more silent than they should have been, and game was growing scarce, as if most of the deer and elks had fled. Something was hunting them, he was sure of it, something more dangerous than a normal wolf or bear, and yet he could not find a single track of the creature, no matter how hard he searched. It was maddening; he should be able to do better than that. 

And today he had found a dead deer, torn to pieces and scattered all over a clearing, most of it not eaten but simply…toyed with. There had been no tracks around that body either, not a single one. Not even the scavengers had been at it, even though it had looked as if it had been lying there for a day or so, and that was simply unnatural. _But you knew that already. Whatever is hunting these woods, it is far from natural._ Hadn’t he heard howls in the night, to the far north? Those howls he had initially taken for the cries of wolves, but there was something wrong with the way they sounded. Whatever they were, they were no normal wolves, he was sure of that. _I should go there, perhaps. Help track them down, for the village._ But that would mean leaving his hideout and exposing himself to the Cowled Wizards. And the village had a ranger already. Merella was a capable woman from what he had seen of her. She should be able to handle this. _Oh? Then why is it that you haven’t seen a glimpse of her lately? Stop fooling yourself, Corthala. She could use your help, and you know it._

Valygar drummed his fingers against the sparse table where he was sitting, trying to avoid looking at the thing that was sitting in the middle of the table. The wards placed on this cottage protected him against scrying as long as he remained within the immediate area. Should he pass outside that circle of protection they would eventually find him, he was certain of that. And yet… 

Valygar looked at the thing at last, and sighed. He had taken a nap this afternoon, and when he awoke, it had been there. He must have sleepwalked down to the stream he thought, gathering as much clay as he could carry, and then brought it back here. And then, still sleeping, he had apparently been busy sculpting. It was rather rough, and still wet, but it was a sphere all right. 

_Possible death if I leave. Almost certain madness if I stay. A tough choice to make._

Then, the ranger tensed up, his still muddy hand going to the katana hanging by his side. There had been a noise outside…footsteps. Several people walking up to his door, and now he could hear voices as well. _The Cowled Wizards? But surely they would not approach so openly? Or could it be the evil creatures plaguing the woods?_

“Look, we don’t know who lives here, not for sure,” one of the voices said. It was female, and mildly exasperated. “So, I’m sorry, Ano, but we can’t just kick the door in. Why are we even having this conversation anyway? You’re the knight-wannabe, it’s you who should be telling me this.” 

“But my lady, I…” 

“I mean, I’d look in the windows, but we don’t even know for sure how to recognize this person, do we? And anyway, even if it is him, we don’t know that he did it. Not for sure.” 

It was at this point that Valygar pulled open the door, making certain that the people standing outside could easily see his hand on the hilt of his sword. “May I help you?” he asked in a mild voice. “And I should warn you that anybody kicking my door may find himself missing a foot.” Then, he took a closer look at his visitors, and blinked with surprise. 

The person standing closest to him, her hand still raised as if to knock on the door, was a half-elf woman, with wildly red hair and an air of mischief about her. She was flanked by a young bearded fellow in blindingly shiny armor, and a very large man with a tattooed face. _Is that a HAMSTER sitting on his head? And why is it staring at me like that?_ Directly behind them was another woman, also a half-elf, who was glaring at Valygar in a way that made him feel her eyes were scouring the back of his skull. Then there was a leering little gnome who looked completely untrustworthy and… _A RED WIZARD?! HERE?_

“Minsc only kicks the Doors of Evil!” the large man with the hamster bellowed. “Tell me, are you Evil? Do not lie, I warn you, for Boo’s keen hamster eyes know what Evil hides in the hearts of men…and his sharp hamster teeth can GNAW IT OUT IF NEEDED!” 

_On the other hand, perhaps it is both death and madness awaiting me outside._

-*-

The man who had opened the door was dark-skinned, more so than most of the people Zaerini had encountered in Amn so far. The dialect was definitely that of a local though, she could tell that even if he hadn’t uttered that many words yet. He was a fairly tall and muscular fellow, and he certainly looked as if he knew how to use the sword hanging by his side. From the deep scowl fixed on his face, he looked as if he rather felt like using it too. The bard’s eyes drifted downwards, and then she blinked, as she noticed something odd. 

_That’s funny…his hands and arms are covered with mud. Got it all over his shirt too. Wonder what’s up with that?_

_A very sloppy washer_ , Softpaws disapprovingly said. _If you mean to kill him, Kitten, please do it quickly and try not to get any of that filth on you._

_I haven’t said I’m going to kill him yet, Softy. Even if he is Valygar Corthala, I just…I just don’t know. Sure, I need the money, for Immy’s sake, but I didn’t trust that Tolgerias a whole lot. I’ve got to stall a bit._ “Hello,” the half-elf said, smiling brightly at the dark man. “I’ve got a Live Nude Performance Greeting Card to deliver to one Valygar Corthala…that’s you, right?” She ignored the small choked sound of protest that Edwin made directly behind her and turned the smile up a few more notches. Her entire attention was fixed on the man in front of her…yes, there it was, that slight flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. _Keep him off balance, that’s it._

“I…” the man said, his eyes darting swiftly from her to the others and back again. 

“They’re my orchestra,” Rini helpfully added. “You wouldn’t believe how good the gnome is at playing the triangle. So, what’s it gonna be, the Dance of the Seven Veils, or the Undulating Snake? Tell the truth, they’re both quite good, Val – may I call you Val?” 

“I…suppose so…” 

“Ha! Gotcha!” Zaerini felt herself lifted on a wave of elation. Gods, this felt so good, when the words spilling out of her mouth created a magic all of its own, twisting and turning everything on its head. “So you are Valygar Corthala then. Thought so.” 

“I am,” the man said in a curt voice, having apparently partially recovered his composure. “And this I tell you, if you come from the Cowled Wizards, I won’t sell my life cheap. I won’t serve them or give them that damned Sphere.” 

“Murderer!” Anomen said, his mustache quivering with anger. “Do you seek to claim innocence now? Do you honestly expect me to be taken in by your lies?”

Valygar Corthala simply shrugged. “Believe or not, as you like,” he said. “It is the truth. I killed some of their number, yes. But it was in self-defense.” 

“Ha! And what of the evils perpetrated on the poor folk of Imnesvale, what of those deaths?” 

“I have nothing to do with that, stranger. All I desire is to be left in peace, but it seems my days of peace are over.” His face turned even grimmer than before. “I should have known they would send people after me…they will stop at nothing to win the Sphere.” 

“Hold on a second,” Zaerini said. “The Cowled Wizards did hire us, yes. But they didn’t say anything about a sphere. What’s up with that?”

“Not a sphere, a Sphere.” Valygar sighed. “You’d best come in unless you mean for us to fight now. It is a long story.” 

The cabin wasn’t particularly large, definitely smaller than Merella’s, but the lack of blood and gore was a definite improvement, Zaerini thought. It still wasn’t exactly what she had expected though. “Er…what’s that?” she asked, pointing at the large and spherical lump of clay that was sitting in the middle of the table. “You into modern sculpture or something?” 

“Yes,” Valygar said, and his expression turned even gloomier than before. “Or something. I’ll get to it in time.” He cleared his throat. “A planar sphere appeared in the slums of Athkatla some time ago. It is known to belong to my ancestor, Lavok the Necromancer.” His mouth twisted into a grimace of disgust. “The Cowled Wizards seem to believe that my blood is the key to entering and possessing the Sphere, and I have no intention of aiding them with that. When I refused to cooperate, they tried to kill me, and I defended myself.” 

“A likely story!” Anomen scoffed. “This ancestor of yours is surely dead by now.” 

“Yes and no,” Valygar said, and his mouth tightened a little. “Lavok was already several centuries old when he left Athkatla, and he has extended his life…or existence…before, by stealing the bodies of his blood relatives. I am the last Corthala alive, and he wants me as surely as the Cowled Wizards do. I’m sure you can imagine my concern. And so, I fled here, where my family has owned property for many generations, where I know every tree and every rock.” His eyes drifted towards the clay sphere. “Yet even here, the dreams of my ancestor and of his damned Sphere haunt me.”

“I can relate to that,” Rini said, nodding. “And I like you far better than the Cowled Wizard who wanted you dead. Say, maybe we could help each other out? You help us hunt down whatever’s terrorizing these woods, and we help you out with your Sphere?”

Anomen startled and gave her a reproachful look. “But my lady!” he said. “You have only his word as guarantee of his innocence – and he may yet be the dark sorcerer behind the evil plaguing Umar Hills!” 

“Nonsense,” Edwin snorted. “This is no mage – I doubt he could conjure as much as a white rabbit, even at pain of death. (Not to mention a black one, with eyes of fire and elegant horns.)” 

“I am no mage,” Valygar said, and the flat anger in his voice made him sound as if he was denying being the vilest of monsters. “Do not call me such again, or you will regret it. I will have no man calling me corrupt or wicked.” 

“Ah…” Rini said, raising her hands in an adverting gesture. “Excuse us a moment, Valygar. I think we need a little chat alone.”

_Five minutes later…_

“Look, he’s a ranger, and he knows these woods in particular!” Zaerini said. “He’s the perfect guide, don’t you see? Plus, we have no idea what we’re up against, and an extra warrior can’t hurt.” 

“I still do not trust him;” Anomen stubbornly insisted. “He is hiding something; I can sense it.” 

“We all hide something, Anomen,” Jaheira said. The druid’s voice was calm, but firm. “The question is if his secrets are a threat to us or not. But so far I see no reason not to trust him.” 

“Minsc agrees! Oh, having another ranger along will be such fun! We can find nuts for Boo, and play with the squirrels, and…” 

“And do sculpting,” Jan said, fingering his crossbow. “It’s your choice, Your Worship, but anybody that untrusting of mages is definitely loopy, that’s what I think.” One of his Flasher Mates accidentally went off, exploding against a small tree. “Whoops…anyway, as I said, completely loopy.” 

“And I couldn’t agree more,” Edwin said with a dark look at Valygar’s cabin. “The man clearly hates magic…that is…that is such an extraordinaire obscenity that I have never seen its like in perversion! What reason is there to be paranoid about mages? (And if he keeps up those looks, I will personally rearrange his features into a more pleasant configuration, courtesy of a Magic Missile or three.)” 

Rini sighed. “Love, can you please not threaten him? I promise you, if he gets too unpleasant about the whole ‘magic is bad’ thing, he’s out. But let’s give him a chance first, all right? I feel sorry for him, hunted and all alone. Reminds me of when Sarevok’s assassins were after me.”

“Very well,” Edwin agreed. “Since you insist upon it. But he had best be respectful, or I will demonstrate to him exactly why he should have been, and the demonstration is bound to involve fireballs.” 

Valygar, as it happened, showed no immediate tendency to get into any hostilities, once he had joined them. He did keep his distance to Jan and Edwin but made no further comment on the evil of magic. Oddly enough, he didn’t seem as inclined to scorn Rini herself, and she figured that he might not have realized just yet that she was a spellcaster too, given the way she was armed. That was fine by her – if he trusted her, she’d have an easier time making him come around. _There has to be a reason why he hates magic so much_ , she thought. _I know he’s Amnian, but this seems extreme even for them._

In the meantime, the ranger was already proving his worth. He had guided the party further north, showing them the shortest and easiest paths, providing information that hadn’t been on Merella’s map. Now that evening was nearing, he was doing his part as well, aiding with the setting of camp. 

As for Zaerini, she had done her part already, having set up her and Edwin’s tent, and then gathered some firewood. Right now, she was sitting cross-legged on the ground next to her lover, reading the ‘Umar Hills Project’, while trying not to get too worked up about it. It was a pretty creepy story, she had to admit that. Apparently, it was the diary of one of the three apprentice mages who had been lost in the woods some years earlier, while they were trying to do a research project on the Umar Witch. It started out normally enough, but as the diary progressed, it became clear that the writer was getting more and more nervous. There were strange sounds in the woods, she wrote, and stranger signs. Symbols, hanging from the trees, scratched into the ground. Gutted animals found lying close to their tents when they awoke in the morning. Shadows, moving shadows among the trees, visible only in the corner of your eye. 

They had become lost, the young mages, lost and turned around, and now the growing desperation was evident. Food was running out, as was the water. They had found a stream, but when they tried to drink from it, the water turned to blood. 

_Something is following us_ , the woman wrote. _I can hear it, whispering at the edge of my mind, drinking our fear, lapping our tears up. Why did I bring us here, why? I’m so sorry…I’m so sorry for everything. And I cry, and my cries are met by Its cries, deep in the night. I fear that…_

The cry came from deep within the woods, far to the north, and was enough to make the little hairs on Rini’s neck stand on edge. It sounded a little like the howl of a wolf, but there was something wrong about it. It was too cold, too lifeless, as if it was a wolf howling with the voice of the north wind. Without thinking, she reached out her hand, grabbing hold of Edwin’s and squeezing it tightly. Her lover was clutching her just as firmly, and she could tell from the wide-eyed look on his face that the sound had affected him too. “What…what was that?” she said. 

Valygar raised his head from where he was tending the fire, and the orange light reflected in his eyes, momentarily making them glow just as fiercely as Sarevok’s ever did. “Magic,” he said in a voice that wouldn’t be denied. “Magic, of the worst kind.” 

-*-

She was lucky to be so small, Mazzy Fentan reflected. Had she been one of the Tall Folk, the cell would have been very cramped, but as it was, she could move about with relative ease. Not that she could go very far, but at least it meant not getting completely cramped up. A small comfort, and a cold one, but still a comfort. 

They had taken her weapons, and her armor, but they had not otherwise harmed her. Why, they had even brought her food and water, such as it was. 

_Why? Why was I spared, when the others were not?_

They had died, her companions, all of them. Died screaming, and in pain. Yet that hadn’t been the worst of it, no, not by far. 

_Patrick. Oh, my poor Patrick._

Mazzy looked up, staring blindly into the darkness outside her cell. She could see nothing, but she knew he was there. Waiting. Watching. And then came the voice, the twisted echo of Patrick’s voice, evil and corrupted. 

“Mazzy…”

She didn’t speak, tried not to acknowledge it. Perhaps if she did not, he would go away. 

“I can see you, Mazzy. Would you like to see me?”

_No. Don’t speak._

“Are you happy, Mazzy? You brought me here…brought me here to die. Would you like to know what it’s like to die, Mazzy? Maybe he’ll show you.”

“Patrick…” she whispered, clinging to the remains of her sanity. “No…I love you…” 

Laughter. 

“Yes,” the voice said. “That…makes it all the funnier…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alas, poor Valygar! I like him well enough, but I'm afraid the chaotic and magically inclined nature of Rini's party is bound to be rough on his sanity!


	118. Trickster and Traitor

**Cards Reshuffled 118 – Trickster and Traitor**

_Do you ever get the feeling that you’re just a game-piece, moved here and there on the board depending on the fancies of the Powers who play the game? If you’re a Bhaalspawn, you’re almost sure to. And Powers are just like people – some of them like to cheat when they can get away with it._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

The singing had returned. Zaerini had slept fitfully, dreaming of unearthly wolves chasing her through a dark forest where even the roots and branches on the ground conspired against her and tried to trip her up. She had awoken with a start, to find herself safe in camp, her companions asleep all around her. Edwin was lying right next to her, snoring quietly, and she had nestled close to her lover, taking comfort in his presence. 

And yet…she could not sleep. It was back again, that distant sound of voices, so faint that it was almost inaudible. Clear voices raised in song. And she thought she could hear one voice that was separate from the rest, calling her. 

_Zaerini. Zaerini of Candlekeep, come to me. It is time we met in the waking world._

The half-elf swallowed hard. It wasn’t the voice of Bhaal, she would know that one anywhere. But there was still something about it that reminded her of her dead sire…it spoke inside of her, deep within her soul. Whoever the speaker was, he had power. 

_Come to me, little trickster. I mean you no harm and will do you a good turn._

_No! How do I know I can trust you?_

There was the sense of amusement, laughter even. _You don’t. That is all part of the game, don’t you see? But here…a sign for you. What you do with it is up to you._

There was the sense of warmth, close to her breast. Rini reached into one of her pockets and drew out the thing that she had kept there, safe from harm. The leaf, the leaf she had been given while inside a dream, by a strange green-eyed boy whom she was certain was no boy at all. It looked a little like a linden-leaf, but not quite, and not even Jaheira had been able to tell her what it was. Oddly enough, the leaf was still alive, as fresh and green as when it had first been given to her. And now, it was glowing, glowing with a soothing green light that made her feel reassured just looking at it. The song grew clearer, as if it was coming from inside the leaf, but still her companions slept on. 

_Who are you?_ She thought. 

The sense of laughter. The voice was bubbling with it, young and carefree laughter. _I will tell you when you meet me. But know this, little trickster. You must come now, and you must come alone, or you will not see me. And if you do not hear what I have to tell you, your wizard will suffer from it. No, not by my hand…by another’s, and in the far future. Still, if you care for him, you will come now._

Rini looked down again, and her hand reached out automatically, touching her lover’s cheek. Edwin muttered something in his sleep, and his hand sought hers, holding it tightly. Letting go was hard, so very hard. But she did it anyway, pausing only to lightly touch his lips with hers. That was all she dared, for fear of waking him up. _I would do anything for him, and whoever you are, I think you know that. May my familiar come with me?_

_Yes. But only her. Come now, little changeling. And hurry. We haven’t much time._

Valygar was on guard, and Rini didn’t doubt that he would easily spot her if she tried to leave the camp in the ordinary way. That she couldn’t have, and she especially couldn’t allow any questions about what she was up to. So, she closed her eyes momentarily, pausing only for a moment to summon her familiar to her, concentrated hard, and shifted into her alternate form. Shortly thereafter a small red cat silently slunk past the watchful ranger, followed by a black one, and Valygar never even stirred. 

On the way, she explained what was going on to her familiar, expecting recriminations, and was quite surprised when they didn’t come. 

_Of course, you have to go_ , Softpaws said as she too an agile leap onto a fallen log. _It’s for your mate, after all._

_Yes. He’d do the same for me. He’s done more than that for me, he even let himself be geased by a demilich for my sake._

_Just be careful_ , the black cat warned. _Take nothing for granted when you meet this creature._

_I wasn’t planning to. He says he wants to help, but that could be a complete lie. We’ll see._

It came as quite a pleasant surprise that she wasn’t affected the way she had been back in Merella’s cottage. True, there wasn’t any blood in the immediate vicinity, but she had still been worried that her cat shape might be more sensitive to whatever the curse was that affected Umar Hills. However, the creatures that had howled in the night had fallen silent by now. She could only hear the normal night sounds of a forest, and the singing, growing stronger by the moment. No blood scent either…but she could smell something else. Something being roasted, some distance ahead. 

_Deer_ , Softpaws firmly said. 

_You’re sure? I mean, if it’s some kind of monster calling me, it could be a roasted person._

_Of course I’m sure. Well, pretty sure. Roasted person smells more like pig._

_Yuck._

_You did ask, Kitten._

It turned out that it was a deer, fortunately, and not a roasted person. It was turning slowly on a spit over an open fire, and the smell was quite lovely. Around the fire sat a group of six people, talking, singing and drinking. There were quite a few empty bottles on the ground, Rini noticed. This probably accounted for the fact that the words to the songs were quite bawdy now that she was close enough to hear more than the pretty melodies. The revelers were all elves, three men and three women, with the pointed faces and ears, and large eyes that were typical of the People. It was funny, Rini thought. She’d met elves before, most notably that annoying Coran, but she didn’t think she’d ever encountered this many of them at the same time. A brief memory floated to the surface of her mind, begging for attention. _A city. A city…in the treetops? And elves…so many elves. Gorion…arguing…arguing with somebody…_

Then, just as she thought she would be able to capture the memory, her eyes fell upon the seventh and last person, and she forgot all about it. The seventh person looked like an elf at first glance, and certainly he shared their features. But his skin was a pale green, and his wild and tangled hair the dark green of soft moss. His eyes were green too, a glittering green like sunlight reflecting off emeralds, and they were looking directly at her. He smiled, baring pointed teeth that would have suited a wolf better than an elf, and then took another swig from a bottle, emptying it. He was leaning back against a tree, looking fully relaxed as his rested one of his arms around the shoulders of the prettiest of the three elven women, and he wore only a pair of loosely fitting pants. The other elves were in a similar state of semi-undress, and now she could see that not all of them were singing…in fact, three of them looked quite busy and their mouths were very much preoccupied with each other. 

“Come, little trickster, little shapechanger,” the green-skinned man called. His voice was the one she had heard before, melodious and filled with infectious good humor. “I would see you properly.” 

Those green eyes never left her, and she could feel herself walking closer, shifting back to her true form even as she did so. No, this wasn’t an elf. There was power here, great and terrible power, pressing in on her mind, making it hard even to draw breath, and that it currently wasn’t hostile only reassured her so much. “You aren’t an elf,” she said. “Not human either. Who…what are you?” 

The man laughed again, a wild and somehow eerie sound, which the elves completely ignored, except for the odd smile. “A tall question, for one so short, and one with many answers. I am the Trickster, the Prankster, the Green Changeling and the Chameleon. The Ever-shifting Shapechanger, the Wild One, the Fey Jester and the Jack of the Seelie Court. Do you know me yet, Child of Bhaal? You should, for if ever one belonged in my domain it was you. Come now, was I not spoken of in the dusty tomes of Candlekeep?” 

Rini felt her breath catch in her throat. Oh, she knew those names, knew them very well. And the color green…he was said to always wear that, no matter which form he took. No wonder she’d been so fascinated by his call. “I know those names,” she said. “You are Erevan Ilesere. The elven god of mischief. But what do you want with me? I’m no elf.” _But how I wish I were, if it would make him like me better…no human god is like this I’m sure._

“Ha!” the god said. “You have elven blood, that is enough. Why should the human pantheon have a larger claim on you than the Seldarine? I tell you, little trickster, you are mine if you wish it yourself. There is plenty of trickery and mischief in you, and not too much malice. You are a rogue and a changer of shape, you sometimes stir things up merely for fun, and you make your own luck. I like that.” He winked at her. “Of course, I’m notorious for being flighty. You wouldn’t believe how boring old Helm can get about that. But as long as you don’t take me for granted and pester me with prayers all the time, I might just do you a good turn or two, because I like you.” He poured her a glass of sparkling wine and handed it to her. “Here, try this. It’s really quite good.” 

“Thanks,” Rini said, and carefully took a sip. The god had been right. _I’m drinking with a god? Is this really happening?_ The wine was light and fruity, and felt like a breath of sweet air as it went down her throat. There was an immediate tingly sensation in her head, and she fancied she could see her skin glow a little. “Wow…that’s wonderful!” 

“Evermead,” Erevan proudly said. “My own special brand. I can drink it all night.” Again, he laughed. “And often do. But sadly, we must wait before we can have a proper revel – you must get back to your friends before they miss you, and I dare not meddle too much with time in this place. We really aren’t supposed to interfere at all, so naturally I had to give in to temptation and…fudge things a little. What can I say, it was a challenge.” His thin lips quirked upwards in a devilish smile. “Besides, I always had a soft spot for an underdog, and you are that, or maybe an undercat. First, tell me truthfully – am I a god to your taste? And I’m not asking because I like flattery. Well, I do like flattery, but that’s not the point.” 

“Er…yes,” Zaerini said. The wine was still making her head spin, and those dazzling green eyes in front of her wasn’t making it any easier to concentrate. “I’ve never really been into the whole worship business…I mean, I prayed to Oghma now and then, but that never felt quite right…and then the whole business with Daddy Bhaal sort of turned me off gods, if you see what I mean. But yeah, sure. If I had to pick a god to hang out with, I think you’d be top of my list.” 

“Perfect,” Erevan said, and that pointed green face almost seemed to glow as his eyes filled with excitement. “You see, Ao is being very tedious about the whole Bhaalspawn business, not wanting us to interfere. So naturally I’d like to do just that, especially since some of the others already are. But not too much, or they’ll all come down on me like a few tons of divine bricks. Besides, like I said, I enjoy people who make their own luck and help themselves. I’ll just give you a little nudge.”

“Fine. Nudge away.” Rini spread her hands, shrugging a little, and spilled some of her drink. “Ooops. I mean, few enough gods help me at all, so I’ll be grateful for whatever.” 

“That’s the spirit! All right, first of all you need to hang onto that ranger. Not the hamster one, although you’ll need him too, but the other one. You need him with you at least long enough to pick the moon out of the sky.” 

“Huh?”

“Read your cards, little trickster. Read your cards. They will show you the path. And secondly, take this.” The god handed her a piece of parchment, tightly rolled up. “You won’t be able to open it, not until the challenge has been spoken.” Again, that sharp, wicked grin. “Heh…if one deity can cheat on behalf of favorites, then so can I. What you need to know is in there. What you do with it is up to you. Just remember to ask an expert for help, and you should manage just fine.” 

“Wait! What challenge? What do you mean?”

“Hush, little trickster…” Erevan’s voice was fading, and his form was growing gradually translucent. Only the green eyes remained as brilliant as ever, boring into hers. “Dawn is coming. Go to your friends. You’ll figure it out in time.” The eyes flashed with quiet laughter. “Oh, and that Drizzt prank…I really liked that. Don’t tell Mielikki.” Then, he was gone, and his elven followers with him, leaving behind only a highly confused half-elven bard and a black cat. 

_ofty? What do you think of him?_

_Oh, I like him_ , the cat responded, licking her lips. _For one thing, he left the food behind…_

_Later that morning…_

“You met a god.” Valygar spoke in a flat, disbelieving voice, and his eyes were squinting narrowly with suspicion. “I find that hard to believe.” 

“Are you calling her a liar, you flea-bitten forest-crawler?” Edwin hotly interjected, glaring at the ranger. “Even a minute fraction of the truths she has lived through would be enough to shrivel your dried-out pinecone of a brain into dust, and you call her a liar?” 

“I said exactly what I meant, mage,” Valygar responded, and he managed to infuse that single word with more vitriol than Zaerini would have thought possible. “I find it hard to believe. Perhaps it was a dream.” 

Rini sighed. “Look, I know it sounds wild,” she said. “But it is the truth, believe it or not. I’m not sure what exactly it means though…except I’d better hang onto that parchment he gave me, and I’d better do another Reading of my cards soon.” 

Valygar’s scowl turned even darker. “Yes, so you said,” he said. “And it sounds unpleasantly close to magic for my tastes.” 

The bard silently ground her teeth. _No. Mustn’t fight with him. I need him, so Erevan said, for Eddie’s sake. Be nice. Be serene._ “Well, I’m sorry you feel that way,” she said. “But I’ve still got to do it, and if you want us to help you with that sphere of yours, you’ll just have to put up with it. You don’t have to like magic, but if we’re going to work together, could you please keep the comments to a minimum? Mages aren’t all bad, you know.” She smiled fondly as she turned to her lover. “Even if they can be a bit quick with the insults. Eddie? You’re very sweet when you’re defending me, but no more name-calling, all right?” 

“As you wish,” the wizard said, but he didn’t stop glaring at Valygar. “I will avoid conversation with this magic-hating barbaria…I mean, ‘individual’ as much as possible, and utilize the finest of Thayvian diplomacy when forced to suffer his ill-mannered tantrums, but if he crosses the line I will not hesitate to extract his spine through his nose. (I’m sure there has to be a spell for it somewhere.)”

“Er…right.” Rini gave Valygar a rather desperate smile. She hadn’t mentioned the part about Valygar being necessary for some reason…she didn’t think it would go over well with her lover that his fate was somehow dependent on the ranger with his strong antipathy towards magic. “Diplomacy. Sure.” 

She thought the ranger’s lips quirked upwards just a little bit at that, but she wasn’t quite sure. “Shall we go on?” he simply said. “Unless you were planning to do this…thing of yours at once?”

“No, I think we’d better go on. I’ll wait until we camp tonight and do it then, then you can see for yourself what it’s all about.” 

“That is probably for the best,” Jaheira agreed. “From Merella’s map, I understand we should reach the forest area that is our destination by tomorrow at the latest. It is a narrow valley between two mountains, is that not so, Valygar?”

The ranger nodded, and then went into a discussion with the druid about the best paths to take as the others broke camp. 

“My lady?” Anomen hesitantly asked her as they set out. “You truly met a God?”

“Well…I guess so,” Zaerini said. “I mean, at least he said he was a god. It’s not as if I can know for sure, but he sure wasn’t an ordinary person.” She noticed the troubled look on the cleric’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Anomen said, a little curtly, but he almost immediately shook his head. “Forgive me, my lady. I did not mean to be uncouth. It is merely…I have worshipped my Lord Helm as long as I can recall, and I have felt honored beyond belief by what signs and favors he has granted me. But to gaze fully upon the face of your God…I cannot imagine what it must be like, or that I will ever be so blessed.”

_Oh crap. He’s jealous, isn’t he?_ “Well,” the bard went on, very carefully. “They’re two different gods, aren’t they? I mean, Helm has so many worshippers that I’m sure he’s having a hard time just answering prayers. Erevan, if that’s who he really was, he made it pretty clear that he doesn’t want prayers, at least not too often, so maybe he has more free time?” She lowered her voice a little so that Valygar wouldn’t hear her. “And besides, I think it probably has something to do with my sire. If it wasn’t for that, I doubt he’d be taking such a personal interest. Not that I mind…any help is welcome, right?”

“So, my dearies,” Jan thoughtfully said, pushing his goggles up onto his forehead, “have I ever told you about the time I met a god?”

“That atrocious story about finding Oghma passed out on your lawn?” Anomen asked and his mouth twisted with displeasure. “Yes, you did, much as I wish I could say otherwise.”

“No, no, not that one, Ano dear boy! That’s an old one. No, I meant the story about the second time I met a god.”

“Earmuffs…” Edwin frenetically muttered as he started digging around in his pack. “Now where did I put those thrice-bedamned earmuffs?” 

“Oh, I reclaimed those last night while you were all asleep, Red,” Jan triumphantly stated. “They’re a Jansen Brand trade secret after all, couldn’t allow the lot of you to just use them any which way. Why, somebody might steal them! Now, as for the god I meant, it wasn’t just any old Torm, Tyr or Helm either. No, it was Mystra, the goddess of magic herself! Seems she’d fallen hard for the trusty old Jansen charm, and wanted to make me one of her Chosen. You know, just like old tickle-me-Elmo the bearded wonder. Said she’d grant me the lot…the invulnerability package, my own holiday pocket plane, a permanent Protection from Anything spell, if only I’d become her lusty little love-turnip.” 

By now both Edwin and Anomen were staring at him with identical looks of horror on their faces. “Love-turnip…” Anomen said in a hollow, dead voice. “Please…no more…” 

“Can somebody get him out of the way?” Edwin demanded. “When the flaming meteors start striking him, I don’t want to be anywhere near the zone of impact.” 

“Of course, I turned her down,” Jan said. “Lovely goddess and all that, and the perks were good, but far too kinky for my tastes. Why, you wouldn’t believe what she wanted me to do with my beard once I’d grown it out long enough to suit her…”

“No, Jan,” Rini hastily said. “We probably wouldn’t, but I can imagine it all right, much as I wish I couldn’t. Now, can we change the subject before my stomach winds up somewhere between my feet? Thanks.” 

“Jan is being very silly,” Minsc declared. “Minsc is nice and smooth, and his is the face that all the girls love, or so Boo always says.” He patted his shaven head, beaming proudly. “Look, all nice and clean! Hamsters look fine in beards, but a man looks best when he’s neat and shaven, with fine tattoos to tell the tales of his heroic deeds.” 

“You cannot be serious!” Anomen immediately protested. “Why, a finely grown beard is a man’s pride and joy!” 

“For once I fully agree,” Edwin said, nodding vigorously. “My own beard is infinitely more attractive of course, and there is no question of me ever doing without it. (Not when I finally have managed to achieve a mature and dignified appearance.) And that looks more like a bruise than a tattoo. Now, my own tattoos are a different matter entirely, finely crafted and stylish as they ought to be…”

“Oh, shaving is out of the question, Minscey,” Jan said, idly scratching his own beard. “Why, I think I might actually try to emulate Boo’s proud whiskers…if I may only borrow him for a short while to absorb his wisdom…”

“NO! YOU WANT TO STEAL MY BOO AGAIN! Bad Jan! Bad!” 

At this point, Jaheira turned around, glaring at the men. “If you gentlemen could please settle this fashion argument of yours more quietly,” she said, “Valygar and I were trying to listen for any approaching threats. Of course, by now any monster or wild beast in these woods will most likely have heard us and be heading in this direction.” 

“For the record,” Valygar laconically added, “I put myself in the ‘beard camp’. Though we could always ask the people heading this way to judge the matter, I suppose. They seem to be picking up their pace, so they should be here any moment.” 

And in that he was right. A group of six people strode out of the forest, towards Zaerini and her friends. The leader was a blonde elven woman with a serious face. She wore a beautiful chainmail, one that glittered with a metallic green sheen, and she carried both a finely made longsword and a bow of elven make. Her companions were human, and also well-armed, with the exception of a pretty brunette in blue mage robes. “So, I have caught up with you at last,” the elf said, never taking her eyes off Jaheira. “We had tracked you for some time already, but Macine’s scrying finally paid off and told us were you would be. You must know why I have come, Jaheira. It is time for justice to be served. Harper justice.” 

Jaheira had turned to face the elf, and though her cheeks had gone a shade paler than before, her voice never wavered. “Reviane?” she asked. “Reviane, what are you doing? You know me!” 

“I thought I did,” Reviane said, her voice cold. “It seems I was mistaken. It pains me to say this, but a traitor’s death is all you deserve.” 

_Galvarey_ , Zaerini thought, and her stomach felt as if it had twisted itself into an icy knot. _This is about Galvarey. She protected me against him, and now…now…_ ”Jaheira…” she began. 

“Hush, child,” the druid said, never taking her eyes off Reviane. “This is my business to deal with, not yours. Reviane, if this is about what happened with Galvarey in Athkatla, then you should know that it would never have come to pass if I had had any choice. Galvarey meant to use Zaerini here for his own twisted purposes, to put her in harm’s way in order to elevate himself. I could not let it come to pass.” 

Reviane frowned. “This seems a farfetched story, Jaheira. The Harpers know only that there was an attack, and that Galvarey is dead. Why would he think your companion important enough to serve that purpose?” 

Jaheira hesitated, not speaking, clearly not wanting to speak. 

_If I tell them, they’ll probably fight us_ , Rini thought. _But if I don’t tell them, they probably still will. Keeping quiet would be the easiest, of course. If not for one thing. Jaheira._ “Tell them if you think it will help, Jae,” she said, trying but not quite succeeding to keep her voice steady. “I don’t trust them, but I trust you.” 

The druid turned to look at her, concern evident in her eyes, though her face remained smooth. “Child, are you certain you want this?”

“No. But do it anyway. I never wanted you to get in trouble over me.” 

Jaheira nodded, and her expression softened just a little bit. “Very well then. Reviane, Zaerini is one of the Children. Galvarey thought to use the prophecies for his own purposes, imprisoning her to gain status.” Her voice turned harsher, more passionate. “She is not deserving of such a fate. I know this, Reviane, and I stand by the choice I made before. Will you not trust my word on this?” 

“And if she does not,” Edwin murmured directly behind Zaerini, “I give my word that she will die screaming. Let her just try to harm you, and we will see how well a Harper does against the finest magic of Thay.” 

Reviane’s eyes darted back and forth between the two half-elves before her, and her followers tensed, waiting for her order. “One of the Children?” she asked. “And you ask me to do as you do, and trust her over my own? No…Jaheira, I cannot do this. I don’t know this woman, but the Children are tainted from birth. She has brought you to this, manipulated you somehow, made you spill Harper blood…and for that, she and you must both pay. I am sorry.” She reached for her sword, moved towards Jaheira who simply watched her, a thunderstruck expression on her face. 

_So am I_ , Rini thought, even as she raised her hands and felt the magic flowing through her, raging like a wild river. The flames that streamed from her fingertips struck Reviane full in the face. She screamed as she burned, screamed as her flesh charred and melted beneath the pitiless flames, screamed as she fell, wrapped in the flames. _So am I. But for Jaheira, not for you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so a certain plot thickens, which started all the way back in BG1 and won't end until the very end of ToB.


	119. Cards of Allies, Cards of Foes

**Cards Reshuffled 119 – Cards of Allies, Cards of Foes**

_Wouldn’t it be nice and neat if you could always tell right away who you could trust, and who would stab you in the back? But no, that’s not the way it is. And just to make things even more interesting, sometimes it’s actually the people you hate at first sight who will give you that perfect opportunity in the future._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Reviane…” Jaheira stared at the body lying at her feet, trying to come to terms with what had just happened. The elf’s blonde hair was badly charred, as was her face, and her neck was bent into an unnatural angle. There were other bodies lying close by, just as broken and discarded, but those she had not known. They were strangers, Harpers or not. But Reviane, Reviane had been a friend. Not a very close one, but a friend all the same. 

_We worked together in Calimport…she was along for that mission, the one when I met my Khalid. She knew not just me, she knew him. She gave us each a sword, and she said how they would be far better presents than any set of crockery or other traditional wedding present._

The druid looked at her scimitar, and at the blood dripping along the curved edge. Without saying anything, she started wiping it clean, carefully and with hands that hardly shook at all. 

“Jaheira?” Zaerini’s voice had a raw edge to it, and when Jaheira turned around she saw that the younger woman was quite pale. “Jaheira, I…I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have, but she wanted to kill you, and…” 

“Hush, child,” Jaheira said, raising her hand. “She made her own choice. It is all right.” 

“But it’s not! First Galvarey, and now this! What will they do next, send Elminster sniffing your trail out?” Zaerini took a few steps forward, and nervously pulled a hand through her red locks. “You’re my friend, and I never wanted you to get in trouble because of me, I swear it.”

“I know you did not,” Jaheira replied, taking the other woman’s arms in a firm grip, as she looked her straight in the eyes. “I am not a weak-willed fool who needs to be led, nor am I a helpless infant. I made my choices too, long ago.” She hesitated a moment, uncertain how to continue. “I mourn for Reviane, yes,” she said. “She was not a bad person. But I do not blame you for what happened, nor will I hear of you doing so.”

“What of the Harpers?” Anomen asked in a quiet voice. “Surely they will not let this pass? When she does not report back, they will assume the worst.” 

Jaheira nodded. There was an icy pit in her stomach as she thought about that, but she tried her best to ignore it. _None of them can do anything in the least to affect that, what purpose will it serve to make them worry needlessly?_ “Perhaps so,” she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. “But the Harpers serve justice, and they may hear me out yet. I will contact them when I can, let them know the truth. They will listen.” 

“Will they?” Zaerini asked, sounding doubtful. 

“Yes,” Jaheira replied, in her most forceful voice. “They will.” _And if I prove mistaken in that, I will do whatever is necessary to make certain they will not harm you. That, I swear._

-*-

The nature of the forest was changing, Zaerini noticed that afternoon. It was growing denser, and yet there seemed to be an ever-increasing number of dead, dry branches as opposed to living ones. Also, it was going dark. She craned her head backwards, looking at the sky. The sun shouldn’t be setting yet, not for several hours, she was sure of it, and she couldn’t see any clouds. And yet it was as if a dark veil was passing in front of the sun, obscuring it, getting thicker and denser by the moment. 

“Unpleasant place,” Valygar remarked close by her ear, causing her to jump a little. “Far too much magic.” 

“Magic?”

The ranger nodded, his braided hair swinging forwards with the motion. “Yes. This valley we are passing into is cursed. I expect it to get worse, not better.”

“He is right,” Jaheira said. The druid had been quiet since the encounter with Reviane and the Harpers, and Rini thought that very natural. She did not seem angry, or fearful, but more thoughtful than usual. “I sense it too. The land ahead is tainted by some form of curse.” She spat angrily. “A raw wound in Nature’s heart, tainted by poison…whoever has done this must be made to pay.”

“All very commendable and suitably heroic in a blustering and brainless fashion,” Edwin said. “Now, can either one of you actually pick up on anything useful?”

“I will take advice on my usefulness from you, Edwin, the day I accidentally turn myself into something amusing,” Jaheira snapped. “As for your question, no. We are too far away yet for me to make out anything specific. And even if we were closer, I cannot be certain I would be able to. There seems to be nothing living down that valley for me to commune with.” 

“True.” Valygar nodded. “I don’t have a druid’s skill at this, but I believe you are right. In that valley, Death awaits us.” 

Rini gave a nervous laugh. “Nah, couldn’t possibly be true,” she said. “I met Death once…this rather silly assassin back in Nashkel. He even introduced himself and everything, right before he got killed.” 

Soon enough the party had almost fully penetrated into what she had come to think of as the Dark Forest. By now, the sun was fully obscured by heavy clouds, and there were thick fogbanks rolling along the ground, that almost looked solid enough to touch. She had suggested that all her companions stick very close together, in order to assure that nobody got lost. Still, she was terribly afraid that it would happen sooner or later anyway. 

It wasn’t merely the dark and the fog that made their progress slow either. The forest was even more tangled than before, with dead and fallen branches blocking their way frequently, threatening impalement or at least a lost eye or two. The ground was covered by a thick carpet of dead leaves, slimy with mud and grime, and there was not a single living plant in sight. Nor was there any sign of animals. No sightings, no sounds, and Valygar and Minsc couldn’t pick up a single track. 

Then, the howling started. It was just a single cry at first, far in the distance. It resembled the howl of a wolf, but it was somehow colder, enough so to make the bard feel a little shiver running down her back. The howl was joined by another, and then another, until there was an unearthly choir of mournful wails. 

“Jaheira?” the bard asked, once the cries finally stopped. “What…what was that? Do you have any idea?”

Jaheira pursed her lips in thought, then shook her head. “On the surface they sounded as wolves,” she said. “Yet the sound was somehow wrong.” She frowned. “This place is dead to my senses. I cannot reach out to the natural world, as I should be able to. It is as if everything, every part of the land has been corrupted.” 

“Whatever those creatures are, they are assuredly dangerous,” Anomen said. “My lady, we need to make a decision. Should we set camp here, or press on? This may not be the safest place to stop, but…”

“But it might be just as dangerous further ahead, maybe even more so,” Jaheira said. “I say we stop here – we want to be fully rested, and with a full supply of spells prepared, before we get deeper into this forest.” 

Rini nodded. “All right,” she said. “We’ll stop here – there’s something I need to do, anyway.” She fingered the deck of cards in her pocket. _Any information I can get in advance has to be helpful, after all._

It wasn’t long after that Rini was sitting on the ground with her deck of cards in her left hand, the fingers of her right one idly stroking it as she tried to get into the proper frame of mind. Edwin was sitting next to her, watching her anxiously. 

“You will be careful, will you not?” The wizard urged her. “This place is saturated with dangerous magic; there is no telling how it might interfere with your reading.”

“I will, as much as I can, I promise. But I really think I ought to do this, we know so little about what’s ahead.” 

Valygar, who was building a small fire a short distance away, turned his head towards her and frowned. “Resorting to magic again? In battle, that is bad enough, but this is worse.”

_Ah, here we go. I was wondering when he’d get around to that._ “Look,” Rini said, trying to sound as patient as possible. “We’ve been over this. Not all magic is bad. Earlier today, I was trying to defend Jaheira. And right now I’m trying to learn something that will help us all, maybe save our lives. What’s so bad about that?”

“It’s not what you do now,” Valygar stubbornly insisted, still with that dark scowl on his face. “But magic is addictive. It instills a desire in the user, a desire to learn more, to use more.” 

“And that is supposed to be a bad thing?” Edwin scoffed. “Trust an unwashed country noble to be contemptuous of learning, and ripe with the superstitions of uneducated peasants.”

“It is a bad thing when the person does ever darker deeds, caring for none but himself and his magic,” Valygar spat out. “As I’m sure you’re very familiar with, wizard.”

Rini sighed. “Eddie, you’re not helping,” she said. “And Valygar, I’m sorry but I can’t exactly prove to you that I’m not some cackling fiend who sacrifices babies every day before breakfast and wants to destroy the cosmos. Either you believe me, or you don’t.” _But gods, I need him to believe me - I need him to stick around for Eddie’s sake, no matter what. I just hope they won’t kill each other first._

“You have sworn to aid me against Lavok, as I have sworn to aid you,” the ranger said with a small shrug. “I keep my word. As for the rest, I will watch and wait, and be prepared for what may come.” 

“Oh. Good, I guess. And you know, I don’t mind you watching my Reading. Just don’t interfere, not unless I really seem to be in physical danger of any sort, all right?” 

Valygar bowed his head. “Very well. I believe it is a fool’s errand, but I shall do as you ask.” 

Her companions all gathered around her as she prepared herself, starting to slip into the trance-like state that always accompanied the Reading. _Show me what lies ahead_ , she asked the cards. _Teach me what waits in this dark forest, and how I can best defeat the dangers ahead. And show me what Erevan spoke of – the moon that needs to be picked out of the sky, I want to know more about that. And show me something else as well, something I haven’t thought to ask of but need to know about anyway._

The cards practically leapt into her waiting fingers, and she laid them out on the ground in front of her, watching them carefully. 

Death. The inverted Knight of Swords, together with the Three of Swords and the Sun. Beyond that group of cards came another one. The Moon, the inverted Archmage, and the Chariot. Finally there was a third group containing the Emperor, the inverted Fool, and the Six of Rods. And last…last lay the Void, and she shivered as she saw that card of limitless black, but it was too late to pull back, far too late. Her consciousness fled, and departed her body, rushing through a screaming tunnel of swirling colors, and then she was elsewhere. 

An empty plain, covered with dead gray dust, with a starless empty black sky overhead. And before her stood the Cards, having taken on the shapes of beautifully detailed statues. Squaring her shoulders, she walked on, to learn what they had to say. 

-*-

To the west, in a mostly dark room in the Den of the Seven Vales, two rogues sat together, making their plans over a glass of wine. “It has to be soon,” said the first, his black eyes intensely focused upon the other one. “I need those plans for Spellhold, before the person I mean to get out of there suffers some irreparable damage.”

The other man, a smooth-faced Kara-Turan, nodded quietly. “I understand,” he said. “And then, you will do what you can to aid me with my…problem, yes?”

“Yes. Now, I may not know of any specific way to break a Geas without the caster’s consent, but I will do what I can.” 

The younger man made as if to speak, and then fell silent as a brief spasm of pain crossed his face. “Forgive me,” he said. “Even speaking of such a thing…is hard.” 

His companion leant forwards a little, a concerned look visible on his face despite the shadows cast across it by the hood of his black cloak. “Yet you will sooner or later need to tell me what exactly your Geas entails, Yoshimo – or I cannot possibly hope to help you circumvent it.” 

The ghost of a smile made Yoshimo’s lips twitch slightly upwards. “Ah, my friend – there is always a solution, with you, is there not? You do not give up easily.” 

“I should hope not – if I did, I would be long since dead.” 

Yoshimo nodded again. “Hope is the last thing that deserts us, even in the dark places where you and I walk. Sometimes I wonder if that is a blessing or a curse.” 

The man in black smiled faintly. “I have wondered the same, on occasion. Yet in the end, I have carried on. I have…something of a Geas of my own, you might say, though not a magical one, and one I do not regret. As long as I am needed, I will not shirk it.” 

“To our respective duties then,” Yoshimo said, raising the small cup of rice wine before him. “May the ones we carry gladly be fulfilled well and true, and the other ones lifted from us.” 

“Yes. To the duties.”

The glasses clinked together, and in his cell deep in the bowels of Spellhold, Irenicus felt a brief stirring of unease. Yet it passed quickly enough, and he returned to his patient chipping away on the wards that bound him. Soon, he would be free. Very soon…

-*-

The Knight of Swords stood before her, a towering figure covered in armor. And yet, as she approached, Zaerini noticed there was something wrong with the shape before her. The perspective. That was it. She was walking closer, but the statue wasn’t getting any larger – and then she realized why that was. 

The Knight of Swords wasn’t large at all; the armor was quite tiny, only tall enough to reach her thigh. Bemused, the half-elf took a few steps closer, a small smile on her face, and as she did so the Knight pointed a short but very sharp sword at her. “Halt!” The voice from behind the closed visor rang hollow yet was beyond a doubt a female one. “You cannot pass, and don’t think I’m easy because I’m short.” 

“Whatever you say,” Rini said, shrugging. She was trying to peer inside the visor but couldn’t make out any facial features at all. “So…you’re a halfling are you? And a knight. Seems I heard mentioned that somebody like that got lost in these parts. Are you Mazzy Fentan, by any chance? And what are you here to tell me?” 

“I am Mazzy Fentan, Truesword of Arvoreen,” the Knight intoned, still in that hollow, echoing voice. “I am her sworn warrior, sworn to smite evil and deliver justice in her name!”

“Right. Any particular evil to smite around these parts, then? That’s kind of what I hoped you’d be able to tell me.” 

“Seek me at the heart of darkness, in the pit of despair. Set me free, and I shall lead you to victory.”

“OK…seems fair enough…are you any good at fighting then? Only, you’re rather small and…” 

“My heart is lost to me,” the voice from behind the visor said with chilling finality. “Observe.” A mailed hand slid open a hatch in the breastplate, and Zaerini took an involuntary step backwards. Inside the panel lay a beating heart, red and wet with blood, and it was thoroughly impaled. Three sharp daggers pierced it, and the musculature of the heart was getting weaker by the moment, its contractions spasmodic. _The Three of Swords. Loss, and departure. Gods, what has happened to this woman? And she’s the inverted Knight of Swords…that means courage, but not in a beneficial way. I’d better watch out when I meet her._

“I do not need my heart,” the armed warrior spoke. “Only my sword. For now, I am the sword arm of Arvoreen, and that is all I need to be and will be forever more. Bring me to the creature that took my heart, and his doom shall be my salvation.”

“The…what creature is this?”

“See,” Mazzy said, still in that cold, heavy voice. “He comes.” 

And there was a shadow, a shadow darker even than the empty sky above, something vast and terrible above. Zaerini tried to look up, but there was a roar in her ears, and a heavy wind. Whatever the creature was, it was large. 

“I AM YOUR DEATH, LITTLE BUG,” a booming voice spoke out of the darkness. “YOU CANNOT FIGHT ME AND HOPE TO PREVAIL. YOU MUST WALK AS SILENTLY AND INVISIBLY AS THE SMALL SERVANTS, OR I WILL GORGE MYSELF ON YOUR SWEET FLESH.” 

“Yet all is not lost,” spoke another, softer voice. Rini turned around, though she had to make an effort of will in order to turn away from the frightening presence above her. There was a small girl standing there, only about twelve or so, with serious eyes and a long, white dress. She was smiling, and her face was radiant with white light. _The Sun. A good card, one of benevolence and joy._

“It isn’t?” the bard asked. 

The girl smiled. “Of course not. The shadows may blot out the sun, but they cannot destroy it. It is still there, waiting to be brought forth. You have one part in your possession already – find the other, and you will have what you need.” She raised her hands, as if in blessing, and the light spread out from her hands, glowing so brightly that Rini had to shade her eyes. It looked as if the girl was holding the very sun in her hands, something small and fiercely white-golden. “Caught between light and shadow, dancing on the edge…” the girl whispered. “The shadows are long ahead, but the light will not be lost forever. Come. It is waiting for you.” 

With that, there was a flash of light and she disappeared, along with the cards that had come before her. Rini raised her arm to shield her eyes, and when she lowered it again, she saw another group. The Moon hung low before her, filling her field of vision, pale and pockmarked. Silhouetted against it was a human form, a dark shadow against the moonlight. She didn’t need to see his face to recognize him though. The pointed hat was all too familiar. _Oh, CRAP! Not him!_

“Ho there, wanderer,” the shadow said. “And may I say, you have wandered far out of the bounds set for you. You would do well to turn back.” 

“Oh yeah? And why is that?” 

There was a chuckle from the man before her. “Because only a fool would persist. Crossing me can only bring you to despair.”

“Is that a threat?” Rini asked, trying to sound unconcerned. She was trying hard to keep her teeth from chattering though. _The most powerful mage in all the Realms, and he’s got it in for me._

“And you want to pass that message on to your wizard, as well.”

_No. Not me. Eddie._ The fury was building, the fires within her soul leaping higher with every passing seconds. _Down, girl. This isn’t the place or time. This isn’t even really him._ “If you do anything to hurt him…” she said, knowing how impotent the threat sounded even as she spoke it. 

The Inverted Archmage shook his head, with almost grandfatherly concern, yet there was nothing grandfatherly about the approving and evaluating sound of his voice. “You are a fine young woman; despite the chaos you cause. You could do better. And should he need to be taught a lesson in manners, I’m sure you will soon forget all about him.”

“Never!”

“Remember,” he said, as he turned away. “You cannot harm me. The magics that guard me are impenetrable, and my patron…has invested me with certain benefits.” He gave the Moon a fond look. “Be reasonable, and…” 

But then, he looked up, and his voice was startled, even frightened. “No! NO! It cannot be!” 

Rini turned to see what could possibly have caused this reaction, and then she stood still, staring with amazement. She heard it before she saw it, a dull murmuring rumble. Then it came, thundering across the night sky, glowing even more brightly than the moon, its wheels perfect spheres of smooth silver. The Chariot – drawn by invisible horses, its driver hidden from her sight. 

“NOOOOOOO!” The Inverted Archmage screamed, and then the Moon exploded as the Chariot rammed into it, turning into a fine silver dust that stung in ears and nose alike. Rini dropped to the ground, trying to protect her head, and finally the scream died away and she dared to looked up. They were gone, gone without a trace. 

“Please tell me,” she whispered in a stunned voice, “that wasn’t a literal foretelling. I know people say they’d pick the moon out of the sky for the people they love, but honestly…” 

She got to her feet again, legs shaking a little, and moved towards the third and final group of cards. Before her sat the Emperor, high on a throne made of shining crystal, cut so that it sparkled with all the colors of the rainbow. He had a kind face, with a pleasant smile and steady blue eyes, but it was also a proud face, the face of a man used to commanding other men. “Approach, supplicant,” he spoke. “What favor do you seek?” 

“The favor I most want from you is the truth,” Zaerini said, her eyes narrowing. There was something about that throne…something wrong. The light was too strong though, she couldn’t quite see what it was. 

The Emperor sighed. “The truth? The truth can be such an ugly thing, ugly and hurtful. What good will it do you? Do you not care that the truth might hurt others, people you do not even know?” 

“How should I know that? I don’t know who these other people are, do I? So, I can’t possibly answer your question. Just tell me what I want to know.” 

“Very well.” The Emperor’s face turned solemn; his blue eyes distant. “Then know this. The truth will bring closure, but also upheaval. Once you learn it, the world will be changed, and for one of your companions, it will never again be the same.”

“Er…in a good way or a bad way?” 

“That is not for me to say. The truth is the truth, good or bad.” The Emperor held his arm out, pointing. “Watch.” 

And the Fool came capering towards them, a malicious smile on his painted face. He leapt and cavorted before the crystal throne, making grotesque faces, and the Emperor sighed once more, a sigh of deep heartache. “Carelessness, vanity and callousness,” he spoke. “The Fool inverted. And yet, I could not doom him. I could not handle the truth.” Six sharp lances spun out of the darkness, forming a circle around them, and Rini swallowed uneasily. The ‘Six of Rods’ looked altogether too dangerous to suit her. _Turning upon us, inward rather than outward. The Six of Rods inverted. And that means…_

“Treachery,” she said. “Who did you betray? Who are you?” 

“I am the judge and the jury, coerced and corrupted,” said the Emperor. “I am the father who betrayed the worthy child for the sake of the unworthy. I am the first of the faithless.” 

“Right. Nothing specific, in other words. So, where will I find you?”

“You will not need to,” the Emperor spoke, even as he faded away into the darkness. “For it is I who will find you.” 

And now the Void was upon her, the shadows closing in, and there was another voice, a cold and implacable voice out of the darkness. “Why do you waste your time upon trifles, Child of Bhaal? Why do you resist your heritage? Why, when even now it is calling out to you?”

Rini tried to reply, but she couldn’t get the words out. That voice…it made her feel as if icy fingers were tearing at her soul, digging into her very marrow. “No…” she whispered. “No…” 

“Oh yes. Yes. You cannot escape me, Child of Bhaal. We shall meet again, soon, and I shall finally have what I wish from you.” There was the sense of a faint smile. “And I believe it will please me well.”


	120. Perverted Prosthetics and Wandering Werewolves

**Cards Reshuffled 120 – Perverted Prosthetics and Wandering Werewolves**

_There are plenty of stories about desperate last chances, and the people who made them work. Of course, all the millions of people whose desperate last chances failed don’t tend to get very many stories written about them._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Edwin was seriously worried. Ever since her Reading, Zaerini had been rather pale and jumpy, and prone to nervous glances in his direction. Worse, she had only mentioned a bare minimum of what she had seen, murmuring something about how she couldn’t bring herself to speak of it yet. Finally, he had had enough. He and his lover were alone in the tent they shared, and she was lying back against his chest as his fingers toyed with her hair. The fascination it held for him hadn’t paled one bit, and he let himself relax and drift off for a moment. 

_So fiery a red…as fiery as her soul…_

_Sure, Boss_ , Insufferable agreed. The little fuzzy monkey was curled up among Edwin’s bags of spell components, and now he poked his head out, looking rather sleepy. _But weren’t you going to ask her something? Of course, I guess it would be more fun to play ‘Bendy Banana’, right?_

_Hush, monkey! Do not soil my moment with the most wonderful and electrifying woman in the world with your crude jokes. I will ask her._ “Hellkitten?” he asked, bending his head down so he could look into her eyes. She looked tired. Far too tired, and the normal mischievous sparkle in her eyes had almost entirely died down. “Will you not tell me what you saw? Surely, with my own unsurpassed intellect at your disposal, there will be no conundrum too involved for us to solve.” 

“Think so, Eddie?” she said, her smile a little sad. “How about figuring out a way to best a certain pointy-hatted old wizard, then? Because I sure can’t, even with inside information.” 

_HIM!_

Edwin could feel his teeth grinding together with sudden rage, and he had to force himself to be still, to ease up his grip so as not to accidentally hurt his lover. “You saw him?” He asked, trying to keep his voice calm. “He came to you?” _That lugubrious old lecher! That withered old prune! How dare he interfere with her!_

“A vision of him, Eddie. But that’s bad enough.” She bit her lower lip a little, then gave him another anxious look. “Look, I know you hate his guts, and I can’t say I’m that fond of him myself, but please, promise me you’ll be careful. We’ll meet him again, somewhere along the line, and if you confront him directly…” 

“Ha! I am a Red Wizard of Thay, and the greatest there ever was, so…”

“Eddie! He’s ten thousand years your senior! Don’t you think there’s a teeny-weeny little risk that he knows a few more spells than you do? Besides, there’s Mystra.” 

“Oh. Well, I…”

“The goddess of magic, Edwin. And he’s her particular favorite. I’ve heard these stories…well, let’s just say that if you did manage to hurt him somehow, she wouldn’t be pleased, and I’m sure she’d do something extremely nasty to you. Hardly fair, but there you are.” 

“Then what do you suggest we do?!” Edwin protested, feeling utterly frustrated. “I will not pretend to be impressed by that ridiculous old expulsion of alimentary gas, or by his preposterous pipe.” 

”I wouldn’t dream of suggesting it, Dread Wizard. And I don’t know what to do, exactly. But I’ll tell you what I do know, and maybe it will make sense when we get there. Now, the first thing I saw in my Reading was this halfling knight…” 

-*-

The dark forest didn’t improve much upon the arrival of morning. At least Edwin presumed it was morning – he thought he had slept enough hours. There were no outward signs to mark the arrival of a new day though. In fact, since last night the darkness under the trees seemed to have thickened further, as had the fog that crept silently between the dead and blackened branches. 

“The evil within this place is spreading,” Anomen said, a worried frown on his face. “We should move swiftly, before it is too late.” 

“Many Evil Spooks in these woods, Boo says,” Minsc agreed, petting the hamster. “But do not be afraid, good friends! Though Evil Spooks have no butts to kick, Minsc and Boo will yank off the sheets they wear and USE THEM AS HANKIES TO MOP UP THE BLOOD OF OUR FOES!” 

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Zaerini said with a faint grin. “Don’t you agree, Jaheira?”

“It will do for now,” the druid said. “But most importantly, stick close together, all of you. We do not want anybody to get lost.” 

And so, they moved on, in single file, each one holding on to the shoulder of the one before him or her. The drifting fog banks were rather fascinating, Edwin thought, even if they did make it difficult to see properly. “You know,” he remarked, “this reminds me of this very interesting book I found once in the Odesseiron family library when I was a child. It concerned these demonic creatures that came creeping into the world of mortals from other dimensions, and they were preceded by a mist precisely like this one. There was this one creature in particular, something like an elephant the size of a tall building, with eyes all along its trunk and tentacles on its legs that I thought was utterly fascinating…” 

“Will you shut up about your perverted necromancy fairy tales, wizard?” Valygar snapped. “Your voice may well attract unwanted attention.” 

“It seems it already did, the attention of an ignorant, flea-infested, lout,” Edwin said, aiming his best sneer in the ranger’s direction. “I believe those preposterous braids of yours have been so tightly pulled that they have cut off the entire blood supply to your inferior brain, or you would have realized that this was a historical account, concerning the demonic research performed by one of my most glorious ancestors, Edgar Odesseiron, and…” 

“Ah, Red,” Jan piped up, “I am so happy to see you are beginning to find an appreciation for the fine art of storytelling! Now, a few of my own ancestors also were into the conjuring of fiends, especially old Salazar Jansen who was a cranky old fellow but an excellent snake charmer. So, he had the wondrous idea of summoning a serpent demon, and have it inhabiting the sewers underneath the old Jansen ancestral mansion, there to guard against anybody unworthy.” 

“Dare I even ask who that would be?” Valygar said. 

“Of course you do, Val! I’m always happy to enlighten people. It was to guard against anybody not a full Jansen, because old Salazar was a bit dotty when it came to genealogy and thought that marrying only relatives was the key to keeping the Jansen charm intact.”

“Inbreeding, in other words,” Edwin said, a wide smirk spreading across his face. “At last, so much is being made clear.” 

“Dotty, as I said,” Jan went on, completely unconcerned. “And a bit senile too – he forgot all about feeding the serpent, you see. And then he made it even worse for himself by eating prunes.”

“Prunes?” Valygar asked, his eyebrows rising into his hairline. “But what do prunes have to do with anything?” 

“They made him so urgent that he forgot which garderobe he wasn’t supposed to be using,” Jan said, affecting a mournful face. “I’m afraid the serpent didn’t care about genealogy at all, all it cared about was a good bite. Or two, as it were. Poor old Salazar survived, declared that he had had a vision about how Jansens should marry whomever they pleased, so they could spread the Jansen wit and wisdom all over Faerun, and the story about how he manufactured his automatic prosthetic buttocks is an interesting one in and of itself…” 

However, they never got to hear the exciting and educational story about Salazar Jansen’s prosthetic buttocks, because at that very moment a monster burst out of the trees directly in front of them. 

The creature looked vaguely wolf-like, Edwin thought, though what with the sudden surprise he couldn’t really take in very much of it. Certainly, there was a large snout with very sharp fangs, a hairy brownish-gray body, and a bushy tail. But the shape was wrong – distorted and misshapen, not graceful as a real wolf would be. It was walking on two legs, or rather bounding forwards, clawed paws menacingly stretched out in front of it, and its amber eyes were wild and hungry as it bared its yellow teeth in a snarl. 

Edwin knew what it was, of course, having studied such creatures pretty extensively. _Werewolf! Or wolfwere…now how was one supposed to tell the difference again…_

_Never mind that, Boss!_ Insufferable cut in, burrowing himself deeply into one of the pockets of Edwin’s robe. The wizard could feel the tiny body shivering with horror, and automatically inserted his fingers into the pocket to stroke the monkey. _It wants to eat us, who cares what its name is?_

_Do not fear, Suffy,_ Edwin magnanimously told his familiar. _I will of course protect you against that slavering beast – any creature that menaces my familiar will answer to me._

There was no need for him to prove his words, though. The wolf-creature gave the travelers a hasty look, then growled loudly and plunged into the forest again. Edwin was amazed to realize that there were actual words among the snarls. 

“Do…grrrr…not follow…”

The adventurers all looked each other. Then, as one, they followed, weapons at the ready. 

“It’s not even trying to hide its tracks,” Zaerini said a couple of minutes later. “We’ve got to be careful…”

Jaheira nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Remember Werewolf Island?”

The bard shivered briefly. “Don’t remind me,” she said. “I thought I had a lot on my plate already, and then I went and got turned into a werewolf on top of everything else…”

“Werewolf?!” Edwin sharply interjected. “What’s this about being turned into a werewolf, and why haven’t you told me?”

She gave him an apologetic smile. “I forgot?” she said, shrugging a little.

“Forgot? You forgot?”

“Well, I’m not a werewolf now, am I? I got cured, we all did, and it was no big deal. It happened after you…” She fell silent, then swallowed a little. “After we were separated. I didn’t tell you, because it had nothing to do with the present, that’s all.” 

_After you left. That is what she was going to say. I left to protect her…and she nearly…_

“Anyway,” Zaerini went on, “They liked setting traps, those werewolves and wolfweres on the island. Some clever, some clumsy. We need to watch out for ambushes.” 

“Well, that should be easy enough,” Valygar interjected. “If there are to be any ambushes, they’re bound to happen in there.” He pointed, and as Edwin’s eyes followed his outstretched finger, they fell upon a steep cliff, one with a large and darkened cave mouth readily visible. “Of course,” the ranger laconically added, “that won’t necessary enable us to defend against them.” 

“Shall we, then?” Zaerini asked and started forward towards the cave. 

“Wait!” Jaheira said, raising her hand. “That werewolf may not have attacked us yet, but it was frightened and may well do so if we corner it in its lair.”

“Then we strike first, and bring the beast down,” Anomen proclaimed, one hand firmly on the Flail of Ages. “Surely it cannot hope to stand against us!”

Jaheira shook her head. “Perhaps, but so far it has done us no harm, and does not deserve death. We do not know that it has anything to do with the deaths in Imnesvale.” 

“Actually, it probably doesn’t,” Zaerini said, frowning a little. “No tracks around those bodies found, remember? A werewolf is still corporeal.”

“Exactly. Also, if the werewolf itself is not the culprit, it may know who is, since it lives in this area. I believe we should speak with it. Or more correctly, I should.” 

Anomen was looking quite incredulous by now. “Speak with it? And why would it even care to listen?”

“I will make certain its interest is piqued,” Jaheira said with a faint smile. “Observe closely, you may even learn something.” She concentrated, letting the natural forces flow through her. 

_Connected_ , Jaheira thought. _We are all connected, sun and stone, blood and bone. All of us. Form is merely…a convenience._

She could feel the change starting, rippling through her body as bone and muscle flowed into new shapes, as fur sprouted from her skin like rapidly growing grass, and her nose was suddenly assaulted with a sense of smell so strong that it was almost dizzying at first. Then, she stood on four legs, and proudly held her bushy gray tail high. 

The smells of her companions were all there, surrounding her, and from the dark forest there was a disgusting stench of rot and corruption, of unclean, perverted life. Yet there was another smell from the cave mouth in front of her, that of a living creature. _The werewolf, of course. And a female, I can tell that now. Other wolves too…but those tracks were faint, and old. So, she is alone. That makes it easier._ Jaheira walked towards the opening, her steps determined. 

“Wait!” Anomen, and his scent changed with a sharp influx of burning anxiety. “My lady, you cannot mean…you cannot think to go in there alone! Allow me to…”

Jaheira turned around and gave a sharp and short bark that clearly communicated her displeasure with that idea. 

“Yes, yes,” Zaerini said, “I see what you mean. And it is a good idea, a lone wolf won’t spook her that much, I shouldn’t think. But I’m coming with you, at least. In my cat shape, she shouldn’t think I’m much of a threat either.” 

“No, she wouldn’t!” Edwin protested. “She will simply snap you in two with one single bite! (Why does she do these things? And what did I do to deserve it?)” 

“Eddie, I promise I won’t let her get close to me. I’m good at dodging, you know. Anyway, if the rest of you hear anything like a fight, you’re all free to come barging in to the rescue, all right?” 

“If we hear anything like a fight, it may already be too late!”

Jaheira chose that moment to enter the cave, knowing that the others would be too distracted by the wizard’s rather loud voice to pay attention to what she was doing. _Though it is good that he is protective of her – the child certainly needs somebody who is, or she would keep taking foolish risks all the time…_

At this point, something small and furry nudged her right hind leg, and she looked down to see a red cat following her. 

“Come on, Jae,” Zaerini said, sounding rather amused. “You didn’t think I’d let you have all the fun, did you?”

“And Edwin?”

“Oh, he’ll complain, but I’ll make it up to him later.” The cat licked her nose briefly, looking very innocent. “Anomen was complaining quite a lot too, wasn’t he?” 

“And for no reason at all,” Jaheira firmly stated. “It is not as if I do not know how to look after myself.” 

“I think he knows that. I think he rather likes it, actually. He’s just worried, that’s all.”

“Well, he has no reason to be!”

“Uh huh. Whatever you say, I guess. Just don’t be too mad at him, all right?”

Jaheira didn’t answer. The scent of the werewolf was getting stronger, and now the tunnel was opening up in front of her, widening into a larger space. It was dark ahead, but she could glimpse a faint movement, and her sensitive ears picked up the sound of a claw scraping against hard rock. There was another smell apart from that of the werewolf, much fainter. She tried to make it out.

“Might we speak with you?” she called out. “We mean you no harm and come only to parlay.” 

At first, only silence met her. Then, there was a voice, a deep female voice that was filled with sorrow and anger. “Parlay? That is what he said, and he betrayed us. My pack is gone – why should I trust yours?”

“He?” Zaerini asked. “Who’s this ‘he’?” The red cat took a few steps forward, crouching at the very end of the tunnel. “And who are you?”

Jaheira sniffed the air cautiously, trying to catch that elusive scent. Yes, there it was. Meat. Dead meat, though not very much of it. Coming from slightly to the right, further back in the cave. She edged a little closer. 

“I am Anath,” the werewolf growled. “And you will come no closer if you know what is good for you. One of you is in wolf form, but not of my pack, and as for you, I could easily snap you in two with my jaws.” 

The cat sighed a little. “Funny you should say that…anyway, it won’t be necessary. I’m staying right here, see?” She sat down; tail neatly wrapped around her paws. “Won’t you tell us what happened with your pack?” 

Deep amber eyes gleamed in the darkness, and the hulking dark shape of the werewolf moved a little closer, her musky smell intensifying to the point where it was very hard for Jaheira to concentrate on anything else. This was a dominant female in front of her, the pack leader, that much was clear. One who was used to having things her own way. 

_Well, so am I._

“Your pack was not killed,” she flatly stated. “They were taken – corrupted. That is why their howls sound so wrong, that is why they leave no tracks as they kill. Am I not right in this?” 

Again, a brief silence. “You speak true,” Anath eventually said. “They were taken by the one called the Shade Lord, taken and transformed. They are shadows now, shadows that kill at his command and for their own pleasure.” 

“And what of your kill?” Jaheira’s fur was rising along her neck and back now, for she had finally managed to make out that other scent properly, and to see what was lying at the back of the cave. A naked man, his belly torn open so that his slayer could get at the soft organs inside of it. There wasn’t much blood though. Perhaps Anath had killed him elsewhere and dragged him here, and Jaheira thought that was a blessing, given how the smell of blood was likely to affect her young charge. 

Zaerini turned her head towards the corpse and startled as she noticed it. Her lips drew back in a brief hiss, but she said nothing although she was trembling a little. Her scent grew instantly spiky with apprehension. 

“I normally don’t kill humans,” Anath said. “It is far too much trouble, for one dead human brings many human hunters. But I had no choice. The game is all gone, and I was starving. He has cursed me to remain in this halfway form, and I cannot be fully human or wolf now. I needed my strength to get my vengeance on the Shade Lord, and that vengeance is all I live for now. This human was lost in the forest, the shadows would have killed him if I hadn’t.” She was snarling now, though not at the wolf and cat before her. “He killed them! The dark one took them, and killed them, and destroyed them! They were my pack, my children, my mate, and he destroyed them! I will destroy him for that, and then I don’t care if I live or die! Will you try to prevent me?” 

The werewolf’s words sent a deep shiver down Jaheira’s spine, and she could feel herself growling instinctively, as memories assaulted her. 

_A dark room, with smells of cold iron and old blood. Knives, of different shapes and sizes. The sharp smell of embalming fluid._

_A table. A body on the table, opened much like the one before her now. Opened not with claws and teeth, but with surgical precision. Opened not for nourishment, but for some cold and calculated purpose that even now she could not fathom._

_On the shelves around the walls, bottles. Rows and rows of neat bottles and jars, precisely labeled. Everything carefully documented and accounted for. Heart. Liver. Small intestine. Kidneys. And in one of them, mutely looking back at her from their glassy prison…_

_Eyes. I always told him I would know his eyes anywhere._

“Kh-Khalid…” Jaheira breathed, her throat tightening as she tried to push the memories away. “Khalid…no….NO!” 

Next to her, she could barely hear Zaerini’s frantic voice as she tried to get through to her. She focused on Anath again, green eyes boring into amber ones. Wolf to wolf. 

“Go.” Jaheira said, and the growl that accompanied the word actually made the werewolf shy back, her eyes momentarily uncertain. 

_Pack leader you may be, but this is one bitch who will never back down to you._

“GO!” the druid repeated, baring her teeth. “Go and have vengeance for your mate and children. We will not stop you; our goal is the same as yours. We will escort you out and see you safely on your way. And if you harm another person, I may kill you yet.” 

The amber eyes flickered uncertainly towards the exit. “To the east,” Anath said, as she slunk past Jaheira with lowered tail and eyes. “There is a dark place to the east, a temple. That is the place the darkness comes from. I hope I will see you there.”

“Somehow,” Zaerini muttered, “I rather suspect you will…” 

-*-

Zaerini was seriously concerned about Jaheira. The druid had been deeply affected by the meeting with Anath, she could tell that easily. So far, Jaheira had entirely refused to speak of it though, except to briefly inform the rest of the party of what the werewolf had said. Then, she had set off again, her mouth set in a grim line and her eyes fixed on something in the distance. 

“Jaheira,” the redhead tried again, “about what you said in there…” 

“No.” The reply wasn’t unfriendly, not exactly, but definitely curt. “I do not care to speak of it, child. Let it go.” 

Rini bit her lower lip, trying to think of what to say. “You should, though,” she said. “It might help.” 

Jaheira sighed briefly. “It might. But this is not the time or place for it, and there are other things I need to do.” 

The bard looked at the encroaching dark trees, slick with moisture and at the thick mists that drifted across the soggy black ground. There was a strong smell of rotting vegetation in the air, and she would have welcomed even the ghostly howls of Anath’s lost pack over the oppressive silence. “All right, point taken. Just don’t put it off for too long, would you? I mean, nobody can keep going forever, right?”

“I will keep going for as long as I have to,” Jaheira calmly said. “Until I tear out Irenicus’ black heart with my own hands and see him dead on the ground at my feet.” 

Zaerini shivered briefly at that. _Irenicus…I’d like to see that myself, if only it didn’t mean having to come close to him again._ “Yes,” she said. “Just…whenever you want to talk, I’ll listen. Or one of the others will. Well, I don’t suppose you’d want to unburden yourself to Eddie, but if you do, I’ll make sure he doesn’t say anything really…” 

“Child, I will be fine,” Jaheira said, and finally smiled a little. “Now, be silent. There may be many foes about.” 

As it happened, the journey east was eventful for quite some time, discounting the dark, the slime, and the one time Jan fell into a mud hole and had to be fished out by Minsc before he could drown. The gnome remained as cheerful as ever, prattling on and on about something called ‘The Dead Marshes’ that some relative of his had traveled in, and completely ignored Edwin’s suggestion that Minsc might have done well to leave him submerged in mud. 

And then, they came to a place where the oppressive dark forest opened up a little, into a large clearing. It wasn’t much of an improvement though, for this wasn’t a nice, sunlit clearing with twittering birds and juicy berries to munch on. The ground was bare, black earth, except for where there remained a few tufts of sickly, yellow grass, and the mist almost seemed to be pouring forth from the land itself, poisoning it. 

There was the temple, as Anath had said, and Rini stood in awe for a few moments, just watching it. It wasn’t that it was all that huge, and it was partially crumbled with the roof fallen in, but it did manage to do ‘forbidding’ very well. There was a pathway of ancient, cracked rocks leading up towards a broad terrace. On top of that, broken columns stood as silent sentinels, still guarding what seemed to be a large statue to some god or other. Rini couldn’t make out which one though, she was too far away and the inky black shadows that permeated the forest seemed to gather even more thickly here. They seemed almost solid, in fact…

“My ladies!” Anomen suddenly called out, his voice sharp. “Beware, the foulness of this place has taken on form!” 

Zaerini followed his outstretched arm with her eyes and gave a small gasp as she spotted the same thing that he had. The shadows were moving towards them, and they formed shapes, twisted and tumbling shapes with just barely recognizable arms and heads. Shadowy mouths opened in silent screams, and their eyes were sunken pits.

“Undead!” Valygar spat, and his sword was already nestled firmly in his hand. “Priest, can you…” 

Anomen hadn’t needed the prompting, he already held the holy symbol of Helm raised high in front of him, and bright light was streaming out from it. Where that light met the shadows, they hesitated and fled, many of them evaporating into nothingness before the power of the cleric’s faith. 

Edwin sent a raging fireball into the midst of the shadows, and black puffs of smoke rose towards the clouded sky as their existence silently ended. Jan followed up with another one, and more shadows were destroyed, but it seemed ten replaced every one that disappeared, and Anomen could not turn them all away. 

“Evil shadows, Minsc and Boo come to light the NIGHTLIGHT OF GOODNESS!” Minsc roared, stampeding into the battled, and Jaheira and Valygar followed, flanking the furious ranger. Their weapons were doing some damage to the enemies, but not enough, the incorporeal shades melted away and reformed elsewhere much of the time, then pressed the attack anew. 

As for Rini herself, she at first attempted a few spells, but ceased those efforts as she saw that she was only doing very marginal damage, wasting what magic she had. Instead, she drew her sword, desperately wishing that it had been blessed with some convenient enchantment against undead. Sadly, this wasn’t the case, and she could only do her best. Even more sadly, her best didn’t seem to be quite good enough. She did manage to drive off a couple of shadows, but more of them seemed to be spawning every few seconds, pressing closer and closer. She hissed with pain as cold, claw-like tendrils of shadow raked her side, and then nearly dropped her sword. It seemed suddenly as heavy as not just a horse but a carriage as well, certainly far too heavy to carry. Her muscles were trembling, straining painfully to raise the weapon, but it was no good. 

_Kitten! What is wrong?_ Softpaws’ voice sounded shrill and panicky inside her head, and the black cat crouched low to the ground, her eyes alight with worry. 

_Don’t know…feel weak…_

Zaerini turned around and saw that she was not the only one so afflicted. Minsc was moving far more slowly than before, as if the weight of his armor was dragging him towards the ground, and Jaheira had to labor with every stroke of her scimitar. Next to her, Edwin was leaning heavily on his staff, and he looked pale, far too pale. 

_The shadows – they are sapping our strength! We have to flee, retreat into the forest and…_ Anath’s old pack. And they’re behind us, there’s no regrouping now. 

Another howl, this one stronger, alive with fury and loss, coming from up ahead. Zaerini managed to raise her head once more, flicking a few strands of red hair out of her eyes. Anath. The werewolf was close below the terrace, fighting the shadows that had claimed her family, fighting and dying. Already her strength was ebbing out, and though she had slain many foes, yet more remained. 

“The mirror!” The werewolf howled; her voice edged with pain. “Magic…mirror! Get to it!” 

_Magic mirror?_ Rini’s eyes darted back and forth, trying to see what Anath was looking at. And there it was…up on the terrace. Something flat and rectangular, on some kind of metal stand. Its surface looked pretty dull and gray, but she supposed it could be a mirror. She looked for Anath again, but the werewolf had gone down, and only faint howls and snarls could be heard from deep within a swarming flock of shadows. It occurred to the half-elf that she and her friends would be next, and time was running very, very short. 

Unless she could reach that mirror, which was surrounded by even more shadows and shadow wolves. And unless the mirror could actually be of some help, which she had no way of knowing. _But if I don’t try, we will all die._

After that, there was no further hesitation possible, only action. She concentrated briefly and slipped into her cat form as smoothly as an otter into water. Then, she was running, the horrible chilling weakness still affecting her so that her legs felt heavy as lead. She could run though, unlike in her normal body that had been lugging about weapons and armor, and she was small enough that few of the shadows even bothered with following her. Some did, though. Icy tentacles of mist touched her tail as she ran, crawling along her fur, and that frosty touch almost squeezed her heart to a complete stop. Almost, but not quite. Still she ran on, dodging and weaving past the shadows, every breath she drew a hard labor, and there it was, right in front of her nose. A mirror, a framed large mirror on a metal stand, its surface flat and leaden. 

_Need to do…something…what though…oh. Yes._ Feeling as sluggish as a flattened toad, she shifted back, her mind only just barely cooperating enough to let her assume her natural form. _I guess I’m lucky I didn’t get stuck halfway, with kitty ears and a tail. Though Eddie might like that…hang on, no time for this! Need to think. Right. Mirror. Activate. How?_

Feverishly she ran her fingers along the frame, trying to spot anything out of the ordinary among the carvings that decorated it. They were of priests bearing offerings and praying, it seemed, though so darkened with age that she couldn’t make out much detail. Behind her, she could hear the sounds of the battle, but they seemed muffled, dulled down. _Cold. So cold._

There were shadows right behind her now, she could sense them, but she didn’t turn around, knowing she was too weak to defend herself anyway. There had to be something, there just had to be, they couldn’t end like this! 

And there it was. An old pictogram, but one she recognized from one of Gorion’s old books in Candlekeep. The symbol of the sun, and of a god. A god she knew. _Amaunator. We meet again._

As fast as she could, she traced her finger along the symbol, then pressed, and before her, the mirror came to life for the first time in several centuries, blazing with pure sunlight. Rini hastened to throw her arm up, covering her eyes, but the light was still strong enough to blind her for a few moments. When those moments had passed, and she still wasn’t dead, she looked around. 

The dark temple still looked as before, but the shadows and the shade wolves were all gone, gone as if they had never been there. A short distance away she could see her friends – they all seemed alive, though Minsc was struggling to get to his feet and clearly having difficulties. But where was…

“If you ever, ever do anything that ridiculously, desperately foolhardy again, I swear to you that I shall turn you into a newt and keep you safely contained in a jar in my backpack!” The half-elf smiled at her lover’s indignant voice next to her ear and allowed herself to lean back into his embrace. 

“But Eddie, haven’t you ever heard about the power of desperate, last chances?” she asked in her most innocent voice once she had finished kissing him. “I was pretty much bound to succeed.” She grinned. “And besides, I think you prefer me in this form to a newt, don’t you?” 

“Well, perhaps,” Edwin reluctantly conceded, and his arms were still quite firmly wrapped around her waist. “But only if you remain alive! (Besides, I am certain she would make for an adorable newt. Red, with golden eyes, of course.) Just look at what ‘desperate last chances’ got your werewolf friend.” 

Zaerini’s smile faltered, as she turned her head. Anath was lying there, quite still, and quite dead. Her mouth was partially open, so that she seemed to be snarling, even in death. 

“She fought bravely,” Jaheira said, closing the werewolf’s open eyes. “And she has shown us the way. Look.” The druid pointed towards the further end of the terrace, and as Rini looked that way, she noticed something she hadn’t seen in the confusion of the battle. A staircase, and a narrow staircase leading down, into darkness. 

“Great,” she muttered. “Just great.” 

“Well, look on the bright side,” Jan chirped. “It could have been stairs going _up_.”


	121. Dawn of The Dead

**Cards Reshuffled 121 – Dawn of The Dead**

_If you’re going to fight undead, there’s one thing you simply don’t want to forget to bring along. It heals, it bashes, it drives the spooky nasties and creepy crawlies off. Your personal cleric, don’t leave home without it. Also try to remember to bring a barf bucket, undead often look really gross._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Healing and recuperation took quite some time, since more than one of the adventurers had suffered from the shadows’ strength leeching attacks. Anomen luckily had restorative spells memorized, as well as some loose scrolls, but using them left him weary. 

“I wish we could stop to rest,” Zaerini mused. She was lying stretched out on the steps leading up to the temple, her head resting in Edwin’s lap while Anomen tended to the others. “But I’m not sure we dare. I checked the mirror; it seems it needs a pretty long recharging before it will work again. If those things come back, we’re all goners. Then again, we have no idea what’s ahead either.” 

“Ah, but that’s the fun part, your Worship, finding out!” Jan stated. The gnome was poking about close to the edge of a large hole in the ground, where it seemed part of the temple floor had collapsed inwards. Nothing but darkness could be seen below, and there were no sounds at all coming from it. Still, that gaping void wasn’t exactly something that made Rini feel comforted. It gave her all sorts of nasty ideas about hordes of shadows streaming out of it, to attack. 

“Are you well enough to travel?” Edwin asked, giving her a concerned look as he pushed her hair out of her face. “If not, surely one of these grunts can carry you, while I spur them on with trusty Thayvian encouragement. (No whips present unfortunately, but a Neibor’s Nasty Reminder should do wonders.)”

“Oh, I’ll be fine in a moment, just let me catch my breath. What about you?” 

“Need you even ask, Hellkitten? A fully educated and trained Red Wizard of the noblest stock, such as myself, can easily conquer any obstacle in his path and survive any hardship, including that hideous overly boiled cabbage they serve at every inn we stop at, and monstrous regiments of chickens that you are obliged to…but never mind that. (Stupid avians, I will have nightmares about them for decades I’m sure.) Anyway, I have an iron determination, steely resolve, and…” 

“…a wooden head,” Jan filled in, grinning. “Not that that’s a bad thing, Red, not necessarily. My second Cousin Willy Jansen had that too, a prosthetic head that he got after he’d had this unfortunate encounter with a griffin.”

”Then he was obviously dead,” Edwin sneered, “a highly suitable fate for any member of your boorish clan and one you may well come to share soon, courtesy of a masterfully aimed fireball.” 

“Don’t know about dead, but it didn’t seem to hold him back much – he ran for Mayor in his hometown and won by quite a margin too. I guess everybody figured they knew what they’d get with old Willy, somebody who’d pretty much let them get on with their lives and not interfere too much. Best kind of politician really, plus he made a really excellent scarecrow too.”

Just as Jan said this, he accidentally nudged a loose rock a little bit too hard. For a moment, it teetered on the edge of the chasm, and then it fell, tumbling over and over through the void, dragging some smaller rocks along with it. Eventually, a loud crash could be heard, from very far below. 

“Fool of a gnome!” Valygar spat out. “This is no playground, and now you may well have…”

There was a soft scuffling sound from within the chasm, the sound of something large stirring deep within the depths. 

“…woken something up,” Jaheira finished, her voice tense. 

“Er…” Jan said, shifting his feet about. “Sorry?” 

Rini waited with bated breath, expecting some sort of hideous fiend to come shooting out of the abyss before her at any moment. However, nothing appeared. Whatever it was that Jan had disturbed, it seemed to have settled down again. 

“We move on now, before something worse happens,” she said. “I don’t really want to hang around here any longer.” 

“If you insist,” Edwin muttered. “Though I think we should keep the gnome on a leash, just in case.” 

Five minutes later, Jan had regained his normal cheerful and carefree outlook, and was humming quietly to himself as the adventurers were climbing down a very dark, very steep, and very slippery staircase. “Down, down, down the stairs we go…and then, the tunnel, told you so…” 

“Have you been here before?” Jaheira asked. 

“Who cares if he has?” Edwin said, as he meticulously tried to avoid his robe touching the slimy walls. “I would not use him for a guide if I was lost in the desert with no water and he came riding up on a camel bearing two kegs of iced tea and a sign marked ‘This Way Out’. He’d be bound to lead us straight into the jaws of some monster, probably one related to him.” 

Jan sighed dramatically. “Ah Red, you wound my feelings. Very few Jansens are monsters, I’ll have you know, though I did always wonder a bit about Great-Aunt Gertrude after I saw the way she ate her mashed turnips…”

“Will all of you be quiet?!” Valygar snapped, and he actually managed to do so quietly. “Do you want to lead every single hostile creature in this tunnel directly to us?” 

“Minsc wants that, yes! That way, Minsc and Boo can fight all bad monsters at once; save us time tracking them down later! That be clever thing called loo-gic, Boo says, Minsc will be happy to explain it to friend Valygar.” 

Jaheira gave the rather stunned-looking Valygar a sympathetic pat on the arm. “Do not bother trying to fight it,” she said. “You get used to it, eventually.” 

They did encounter a few more of the shadow spawn near the beginning of the tunnel, though fortunately not nearly as many as on the surface. Shortly thereafter though, they came up against an impenetrable magical force field, which completely blocked their path. Both Jan and Edwin reluctantly had to admit that they had no spells powerful enough to break through it, and instead the party turned into a short side tunnel. 

This led into what seemed to be a burial chamber, a square and rather plain room, with several tombs lining the walls. Inside, a few more of the shadow wolves were waiting in ambush, but without the strength leeching attacks of their counterparts to back them up, they were no big threat. “Look,” Anomen said as he turned from the final wolf. “Those vile beasts…see what they have done!” 

Zaerini looked. At first, what she saw made no particular sense to her. Just a few old bones, long since devoid of all flesh, that lay scattered about the chamber. Then, she noticed the familiar shapes of the bones. Rib, femur, pelvis…and there was the old skull, yellow with age. It was a small skull too, far too small for an adult. One of the tombs was partially opened, presumably that was where the bones had come from.

“Poor child,” Anomen said, as he bent to gather the well-gnawed bones, and his voice sounded a little thick. “Her final resting place, defiled by those monsters…we must see that she is suitable interred once more, she must not be left in this place.” 

“Of course,” Rini said, nodding. “Just bring her along, if you want. We can deal with it later.” _I didn’t want to leave Gorion’s body for the wolves either, after all._

“Yes,” Jaheira thoughtfully agreed. “Yes, so we can, and should. Though I wonder who she is, to be buried within a temple such as this.” 

She was answered at once, but not by any of her companions. The answering voice came from the doorway at the far side of the room, and it was a voice as cold as the surrounding graves, and as dry as the bones within them. “She isss dussst…asss soon will you be! You will come no further, you will not disssturb the masster’s consssort!” 

The voice belonged to yet another of the shadow creatures, but this one was about twice as tall as the ones previously encountered. Though it was difficult to tell, with the formless features, it seemed to be smiling, and smoky tendrils that resembled arms reached for the party members as it glided towards them. It was flanked by two giant skeletons, each one large enough that it looked to have belonged to an ogre rather than a human. They both wore heavy armor and were wielding clubs. As they charged, Minsc, Jaheira and Valygar met them blow for blow, but though they managed to keep the spellcasters protected, they had problems doing much damage to the skeletons. Their swords would slip between the bones, or slide uselessly off them, and they were forced to spend much of their efforts on defense. The large shadow was constantly seeking to get to them, and they knew that to have their strength sapped at this point would be fatal. 

Next to her, Zaerini could hear Edwin muttering a spell, and she saw several glowing rocks take form between the wizard’s fingers. She and Jan followed his example, and before long they were all hurtling tiny meteors at the skeletons, forcing them backwards. 

“Take that, turnip-hating scum!” Jan gleefully yelled as one of his meteors hit a skeleton straight in the eye-socket, and made it crumble into a useless heap of bones. Only the shadow creature remained now, and Anomen was ready for it. The priest had been chanting a prayer to Helm for a minute or so, and as he finished, rosy red light spread out around him, warm and clear as the first light of a summer dawn, illuminating the entire room. The shadow screeched with pain, covering its face, and backed away towards the door at the back of the room, but an arrow trailing magical energies caught up with it as it turned to flee, and it burst into a thousand motes of darkness that swiftly winked out. 

“Good shot,” Valygar said, giving Zaerini an approving nod. 

“Thanks,” the bard replied, as she tried to catch her breath. “I couldn’t have got a clear shot if it hadn’t been for Ano though…that was one very useful spell.” 

“Ah, thank you, my lady!” Anomen said, looking quite pleased. “It is one I have only fairly recently been granted by my Lord Helm, one that simulates the light of dawn, and it is quite useful against the undead. Even more powerful varieties exist, and it is my hope that I shall gain those too, in time.” 

“I am sure you shall,” Jaheira said, sheathing her scimitar. “Well done, Anomen, very well done indeed.” 

It might have been a trick of the light, but at this point the Helmite’s cheeks seemed to turn almost the exact same rosy color as that of his spell. 

The door at the far end of the room led into a small hallway, which seemed to serve as a combined storage area and jail. At one end, there were several old and rotting chests standing against the wall. At the other, there were several small and dark jail cells, with heavy iron bars preventing any prisoners from escaping. Most were empty, with manacles hanging silently off the wall and not even bones remaining of their previous occupants. One, however, held an inmate. She was a Halfling, with reddish-brown hair gathered into a complex multitude of braids that stuck more or less straight out from her head, and though she looked rather pale and tired; her voice rang out clear and firm. “Noble travelers,” she said, “I beg your assistance in this evil place! I am…” 

But Zaerini had already recognized her voice. The Knight of Swords, inverted. The Three of Swords piercing her heart. “Mazzy Fentan, I presume?” she said. “Let’s just get you out of that cell, shall we?” 

“…a valiant servant of justice and righteousness…” The halfling went on, and then she broke off in mid speech. “You know of me?” she said, sounding a little suspicious. 

“We heard about you in the village,” Zaerini said, while Jan hastily unlocked the cell door. “We’re here for more or less the same reason you are, I guess. Figuring out what’s causing the darkness, killing whatever monster is behind it, you know. The usual drill.” Except I guess she’s the sort who won’t take the reward afterwards. Suits me fine. 

Mazzy nodded so emphatically that her braids bounced back and forth. “Aye, it seems we do have a common purpose in this place. You have fought my jailors, the shadows. Those unfortunate souls are the remnants of live victims who have been perverted by the power of the dark fiend, the Shade Lord.” The halfling then went on to explain that the ‘Shade Lord’ was some kind of powerful entity, almost certainly hailing from another plane, that dominated all the shadows and shade wolves in the area as well as caused the unnatural darkness. Even worse, it had bound to its service a deadlier servant by far, a Shadow Dragon. 

“A Shadow Dragon!” Edwin exclaimed, his eyes alight with sudden interest. “Those are extremely rare; one is more likely to find them nesting in the Shadow Plane than the Prime Material. I have to question whether the uneducated mind of a mere mercenary could have recognized one even in a picture book, let alone in a pitched battle.” 

“You dare question my honor, servant of darkness?!” Mazzy snarled, and if Valygar hadn’t caught her by the shoulder she would have lunged for the wizard. “My companions…my Patrick…they died in noble battle with that beast, and its foul visage shall be etched upon my retinas for as long as I live.”

“Which probably won’t be long, if you make another feeble attempt at hostility towards a Red Wizard of Thay,” Edwin sneered. “Also, I question your tale for another reason. If your companions all fell in battle, how is it that you survived to tell the tale? The shadow creature we just fought spoke of you as a ‘consort’ – might it not be that you turned tail and betrayed your fellows, in order to save yourself and gain some of this ‘Shade Lord’s power for yourself?”

Mazzy uttered a wordless shriek of rage, and this time it took both Valygar and Minsc to hold her back. 

“All right!” Rini said, stepping between the wizard and the furious halfling. “Look, I’m sorry if he was unfair on you, I really am, but we don’t know you, don’t you see? I can see where he’s coming from. Just calm down and tell us about this ‘consort’ business, please? Eddie, I can see your point, but I really don’t think she could fake that much outrage. Don’t bait her again, all right? For my sake?” 

“Very well,” the wizard huffed. “As you wish, Hellkitten, I will not waste my breath on her again. (I doubt she could be much of a threat against one of my capabilities anyway.)”

“Thank you. Mazzy?” 

The halfling slowly and gradually regained her composure. “I…will let the insult pass for now,” she said, her voice strained. “The Shade Lord currently inhabits and uses the body of the ranger, Merella. But it will not last forever. I believe he means to use mine next, by performing some form of evil ritual on the dark altar that lurks somewhere within this unholy place.” She explained that the temple had indeed once been dedicated to the sungod Amaunator, but that it had long been perverted. The altar from which the Shade Lord’s power emanated was hidden and could only be reached by completing certain tests and rituals that would open the way to the deeper level of the temple. She and her party had never come close enough though, so she did not know her way around the temple. “The Shade Lord and his altar must be destroyed,” she concluded. “I have lost much, but I still have my faith. I am the good sword arm of Arvoreen, and that is all I need to be to combat the darkness ahead. If you will have me, I will travel with you.” 

Rini hesitated. Another warrior, that did seem like a good deal. And yet… _The inverted Knight of Swords. That’s a pretty ominous card. But she is somehow important, or the cards wouldn’t have shown her in the first place. And I don’t suppose we can just leave her here; she may be a warrior but on her own she’d never make it back to Imnesvale._

_And that is important, why?_ Softpaws asked, her tail curled neatly around her paws. 

_Because…Gorion would be unhappy with me if I did that. So would Jaheira, and Minsc. You never know, she might be nice when we get to know her._ “All right,” the bard said, before her familiar could respond. “You can come. But you save your fighting for the shadows, all right?” 

Mazzy nodded stiffly, and Zaerini shook the halfling’s hand. As she did so, she could hear Softpaws’ amused voice echoing in her head. 

_Yes, kitten. And I might find myself a nice Shade Wolf to mate with before we leave this place._

-*-

Fortunately, Mazzy’s captors had hidden her armor and weaponry in a chest in the very room where her cell was. The halfling quickly donned a suit of plain but well-maintained chain mail, and proudly displayed a short bow and sword. “The weapons granted to me by Arvoreen,” she said. “They were given to me as a token of my faith, when I became a knight.” 

“You are a knight?” Valygar asked, raising an eyebrow. “That is an uncommon occupation for a halfling.” 

“Short I may be, but not incompetent!” Mazzy gave him a defiant look as she donned her sword, and her movements were short and jerky with anger. “It is true that only humans may be granted the honor of full paladinhood, but that may yet change. And in the meantime, my god still grants me knighthood, along with courage to combat the forces of evil, the power to heal myself and the blessing of divine speed.” 

“Such a pity her god does not grant her a divine muzzle,” Edwin murmured into Zaerini’s ear, but he kept his promise and kept his voice low enough that only the bard could hear him. “I fear my kneecaps are in grave peril.” 

The half-elf had to bite back a chuckle, and when she regained her composure, she saw that Valygar nodded courteously. 

“I do not question your courage, or competence,” he said, his voice even and calm. “I have no truck with the gods, but that is my choice. It’s not my business what favors yours grants you, if any.” 

“Oh.” Mazzy looked a little consternated, then cleared her throat. “Yes. I…accept your apology, Goodman Valygar. It is a welcome courtesy in this dark place.” And she gave Edwin a sidelong glare. 

“Right, now that’s settled, let’s move on,” Rini hurriedly suggested, before another fight could get started. “Tests of Amaunator, you said…let’s see what we can find out about those.”

As it turned out, the first test was situated in the very next chamber they reached. A few more shadows lurked along the walls, but were easily dispatched by the party, and then they saw a large statue standing along one wall. It was a male figure, with a crown resembling a blazing sun, and with little pictures of the sun in its different phases carved all the way along the base. The statue stood with its arms outstretched, staring solemnly at nothing, or so it seemed. There was writing too, and it said: ‘Let not Holy Ritual be derided. None is worthy of his Grace without first paying homage in the manner that He Himself has prescribed. Learn the Ritual or face His punishment.’

“Amaunator,” Zaerini breathed. “Yep, that’s him all right…now let’s see if there are any hints here.” She approached the statue, and as she did so, an echoing voice rumbled through the chamber. 

“ARE YOU READY TO TAKE THE TESTS OF THE SUN LORD?” 

“Say ‘no’!” Jaheira hissed. “Just say ‘no’! We have no idea what these tests are about!” 

“She’s quite right, you know,” Jan agreed. “It’s the same as when somebody asks, ‘Are you the Chosen One?’ You should never, ever answer that one unless you’re sure what the answer’s supposed to be, and only lie if you can get away with it.”

“But we might not get a second chance!” Rini protested. “I’ll wing it, you’ll see, and besides Amaunator knows me…yes, I will take the test!” However, just as she said that, she felt herself yanked backwards by a pair of strong arms encircling her waist. 

“No!” Minsc protested, holding her back. “Little Rini is not ready, Boo says so. To take on a _dejemma_ before one is ready is to fail and be shamed, Minsc does not want that to happen to his Witch!”

“Minsc, this isn’t a _dejemma_ , it’s just a…” 

Zaerini fell silent. The statue was speaking again, and it didn’t sound pleased. “YOU WILL BE GRANTED LENIENCY THIS ONCE, CHILD OF THE SUN. BUT COME NOT BEFORE ME UNPREPARED AGAIN. TO FAIL IS TO FALL.” Fire flared up around the base of the statue, a bright and hot curtain of it, and then disappeared just as quickly. The message wasn’t lost though. If she had remained standing that close, she would have suffered some really nasty burns. 

“Oh,” she said in a small voice. “All right, I think maybe I’ll come back later then if it’s not too much trouble. Maybe…er…maybe Amaunator doesn’t have that good of a memory when it comes to faces.” And then she didn’t say anything else, because Edwin was holding her just as tightly as Minsc just had and kissing her furiously. 

“If you ever… * kiss * …do that again… * kiss *…I will personally… * kiss * …tie your foolish… * kiss *…adorable self… * kiss * …to our bed and only… * kiss * …let you loose while under… * kiss * …a spell of Domination… * kiss *…to keep you out of trouble!”

“Look who’s talking,” the half-elf said, with a slightly embarrassed chuckle. “But I promise, I’ll try to be more careful.” She gave her lover a thorough kiss in return, delighting in the way she felt his breath catch at her touch, as well as in the heat of his lips against hers. “And about that whole ‘tying to the bed’ thing…we’ll talk about that later, and in private,” she whispered. “Sounds like good fun.” 

From the heat emanating from Edwin at that point, it might as well have been he who had got in the way of that statue. 

-*- 

Deeper into the temple, far below the spot where the adventurers stood, a large dragon shifted in her sleep, dreaming of treasure. She was not black, exactly, but the color of shadow, a softly shifting mixture of shades of black and gray, and she knew well how to use that trait to her advantage. 

With a faint snort, the dragon started awaking, and stretched lazily. She had fed recently, and so she was not hungry, not exactly. But she wasn’t entirely full either; the wriggling little creatures had been small, not very filling for a being of her size. And even worse, the obnoxious creature that dared to keep her here had denied her feeding on all of them, taking several for himself. 

_Soon, I must feed_ , the dragon thought, as she tested the magical bonds that kept her a prisoner on this annoying plane. She licked her chops greedily, her dull gray tongue easily the size of a grown man as it slithered between her deadly fangs. _Soon…_


	122. Playing Knights and Squires

**Cards Reshuffled 122 – Playing Knights and Squires**

_One of the things that really sucks about being a party leader is that you can’t always say and do whatever you please. Which can be pretty annoying, especially when all you want to do is to tie some annoying person up and leave them for the ghouls to munch on and you have to pretend to be polite. Well. Sort of moderately polite. Very moderately. Under those circumstances, having a Jansen along really helps. There’s nothing like a Jansen to help moderation become bearable._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Edwin was rapidly coming to the conclusion that his previous favorable opinion of halflings, while logical and well based in fact at the time, had perhaps been a little premature and generalized. He would cheerfully have roasted the annoying miniature pretend paladin alive for her impertinence, but then there was the matter of the promise he had made to his lover. 

_Perhaps I could manage it very discreetly, using all of my considerable stealth and guile?_

_To do what, Boss?_ Insufferable asked from his position on the wizard’s shoulder. _Make her discreetly explode and say she just kind of did it to herself?_

_Well, spontaneous combustion is not unheard of, monkey! I could…no. No. I promised. I will keep my promise and not incinerate the irksome little cretin._

A little way off, he could hear the clear voice of the said irksome little cretin, and tried to focus on sorting through his spell components in order not to be forced to hear it. The party had progressed through a series of dark and abandoned corridors and rooms, and only found one real spot of importance. In one of the rooms, a central pedestal held a large gem that emanated a warm golden light, a light strong enough to illuminate the entire room. Mazzy had explained that her own group had learnt that there had been more than once such door created in order to open certain magically blocked passages in this temple. 

Taking the gem had been the only course of action, of course, since they had already encountered one such blocked passage and found no magical or mundane way to bypass it. However, doing so caused a large number of the shadow creatures to attack, and though they were driven back, all the adventurers were in serious need of rest. 

“Goodman Valygar!” Mazzy’s voice once again penetrated Edwin’s thoughts, and he thought longingly of fireballs. “I tire. Would you please prepare my bedroll and fetch extra wood for the fire. There seems to be a chill in the air.”

_Oh, is there really. I wonder why that could be? Could it possibly be caused by the fact that we are currently camping out in a drafty hallway in an abandoned temple filled with various wraiths and restless spirits, you brainless midget?_

_Boss…_

_Yes, yes. No killing her._

The ranger, also offensively annoying in his obscene magic-hatred, was at least blissfully taciturn compared to the halfling. Right now, he sounded rather stunned, which suited Edwin just fine. 

“Uhm... as the lady wishes,” Valygar said, and went to do as he had been bid. 

_Phaugh. No pride in that one, clearly, letting himself be ordered about in that manner._

_Maybe he likes her?_ Insufferable asked and ran along Edwin’s arm down to his hand, begging for a petting. 

Edwin thought about this as he idly scratched the monkey’s back. _You mean you think he’s insane? No…offensive and barbaric, but not utterly addled, I don’t think._

Mazzy cleared her throat delicately, just as Valygar was about to settle down again. “My equipment needs a measure of cleaning as well. If you are through with your own preparations, would you see to this?”

_Now this I have to see. Perhaps she can persuade him to lick her boots clean while she’s at it._

That did not seem to be about to happen though. Valygar shook his head, politely yet firmly. “Mazzy, I have honored your requests as any gentleman would, but this is too much.”

Amazingly enough, the halfling actually looked both surprised and a little hurt at this refusal. “I did not intend to burden. Indeed, I thought the role would flatter. Every knight needs a squire; I had hoped you would be honored.”

_Oh, this is rich indeed. In other words: ‘Here is a free lifetime membership in the International Moron Association. Please leave your brain at the door.’_

Valygar looked aside, seeming very uncomfortable. “Well, I suppose I am in a way, but I wasn't aware that I had been chosen.”

“Perhaps I should have made a formal request, but... I am new to this as well... There is none other more fit to be my squire. You are a gentleman... a friend.”

_None other more fit…we are inside a DUNGEON FILLED WITH UNDEAD MONSTERS! Hm, perhaps it might be possible to convince her to ask the next ghoul we come across…it would give her a squire of matching mental faculties._

_Well, Boss, I don’t think she’d ask you, would she?_

_I should hope not, or I would incinerate her! There are some provocations too deep to suffer. No, I was thinking that we have a perfectly, as in nauseatingly, good squire snoring away right over there in the corner beside our druid. Why not pick him?_

The conversation between the ranger and the halfling trailed off into stammered mutterings on both side, and Edwin dismissed it from his mind with a final, contemptuous thought. _Auntie Poppy would love to make short work of that one._

-*-

After their rest, the adventurers pressed on, and as promised the Sun Gem did indeed make the magical barrier part before them. A long staircase led deeper into the dungeon, and after an ambush by a small number of shadows and Shade Wolves they came to…

“…a room full of lava,” Zaerini said in an exasperated voice. “And two doors on the other side, and just a really narrow walkway that can help us get across. So, am I the only one to think this stinks of traps?” 

“Nope,” Jan cheerfully agreed. “Which incidentally reminds me of my second cousin thrice removed, Trapspringer Jansen. He wanted to be a rogue, you see, but he wasn’t very good at that whole trap-disarming thing. Luckily he came up with a cunning solution though.” 

“We really cannot waste our time on this nonsense!” Mazzy protested angrily. “A true knight cannot tarry where there is Evil to be combated!” 

Jan nodded, his eyes glittering with amusement. “Yes, that’s what cousin Trapspringer thought of too. So, he hired himself a few sturdy knights, gleaming plate mail, thick skulls, the entire outfit, and then he took them with him whenever he went dungeon exploring. And since brave knights like to charge bravely ahead, cousin Trapspringer got rid of all the traps without even setting foot in the dungeon. It turned expensive though, he kept running out of knights.” 

“True knights are to be exempt from such mockery as yours!” 

The gnome smirked, and Edwin suddenly found himself liking him more than in a long time. _Curious how a common sense of loathing can create that strange feeling of almost…sympathy._

“Funny you should say that, dear Mazzy, because it’s almost word for word what the last knight said as he…” 

“If I might interrupt,” Jaheira cut in, “there is still the matter of how to go on from here.” 

“And no,” Anomen filled in, “I will not aid in any Jansen-style trap detection scheme. Don’t ask.” 

The gnome bowed with a twisted smile. “As you wish, good friends, as you wish. Just give me a second to sort this.” He carefully maneuvered out onto the walkway, his eyes scanning the ground carefully. Now and then he paused and fiddled with something on the ground, presumably a trap. When he reached the other side, he stopped, casting a spell, and disappeared from sight completely. 

“So, child,” Jaheira said after a few moments, “How do you suppose your theatre is doing in your absence?” 

Zaerini shrugged. “It should be fine for now. I asked Viconia to help with picking out actors, with Higgold’s help of course. And if that Ashley Parsley character should show his face while I’m gone, I’m sure Vic will tie him in knots and use him for a footstool.” 

“Vic?” Valygar inquired. 

“Oh, she’s another friend of mine. You’d like her, she’s a Drow but she’s really very…” 

“DROW?!” Mazzy exclaimed, her voice loud with horror. “You…you acknowledge a Drow as a friend? You…well, your foolish mistakes are your own to make, but she shall receive no welcome from me! Slayers of innocents! They taint the sun with their evil!”

“Come now,” Anomen said. “I have met the Drow in question, Mistress Mazzy, and she is truly an ally to Lady Zaerini. Also, surely you must know that not all Drow are evil? The famous Drizzt for example…” 

Zaerini suddenly snorted with laughter, as she looked at Edwin, he could tell that she was very close to breaking down completely with it. He was feeling quite amused himself actually as he reminisced upon a certain fond memory. 

“Yeah…Drizzt…” the bard said, grinning widely. “He’s…something else all right…” 

“Drizzt is not the issue here!” Mazzy almost screamed, stomping her foot. “Your association with a creature…no, with _another_ creature of Evil is, and this I tell you, if she steps across the line even once I will kill her.” 

The half-elf’s laughter ceased immediately, and though the shadow of a smile remained on her face, the look in her yellow eyes as she turned to the halfling was anything but pleasant. It reminded Edwin a little of Sarevok actually, which was slightly unnerving, since he also found it immensely attractive and exciting. “Really?” she asked. “Seems you assume a lot, Mazzy. Such as how long you are going to remain with this group, for one thing. Not that I see why you’d want to, anyway, but there you have it. We’re on the same side for now, when this Shade Lord of yours is toast we take off in separate directions hopefully never to meet again, and the one currently stepping across lines is you. Don’t do it again, unless you’re trying to make me angry on purpose. I’m not very fond of people who threaten to kill other people because of what they were born to be.” 

Edwin thought he saw Valygar nod thoughtfully at that, but he couldn’t be entirely sure, and the ranger said nothing about it.

Mazzy opened her mouth, as if to reply, but just at that moment Jan reappeared again at her side. 

“Traps all dealt with,” he declared. “One of the rooms on the other side has some kind of altar inside, and the other one has this really large and ugly creature, that looks kind of dead…” 

“The Shade Lord! The Shade Lord’s unholy altar!” Mazzy cried out triumphantly, and before anybody else could say anything, she was already sprinting out onto the walkway, her small size allowing her easy passage now that the traps were gone. “I am the Sword Arm of Arvoreen, and my friends shall be avenged!” 

The halfling disappeared into the rightmost room. Then, there were approximately three seconds of silence, before a terrible, eardrum-piercing roar echoed through the caverns followed by the sound of heavy footsteps heading rapidly towards them. 

“Yes,” Jan nodded. “That was always the drawback of using knights, so Cousin Trapspringer said.” 

_Meanwhile, in Athkatla…_

This new job was proving quite interesting, Viconia thought. She had always been interested in art, and though she had previously mainly appreciated painting and exquisite sculptures, this theatre business did have a certain something to it. There was a…glamour to it that fascinated her, the art of pretending things were what they were not. _Like myself._

She didn’t need to wear her hooded cloak while within the theatre though, and that was a great advantage in itself. Zaerini had made it very clear to everybody concerned that Viconia was working for her and was not to be interfered with in any way. _Not that I cannot defend myself of course. But it is nice not to have to do it all the time._

So far, she hadn’t needed to do much actual work, since Higgold handled the regular daily running of the theatre. While Zaerini did want to make most of the major creative decisions herself though, she had said that she trusted Viconia to use her own judgment, if it should be necessary to deal with something in her absence. _Such as this._

Viconia leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing as she idly toyed with a strand of her long white hair. Up on the stage were two females, the remaining two of the group of a dozen or so who had come to try out for the part of the female lead. _The Sorcerer’s Bane…interesting._ She had only a vague idea what the play was supposed to be about but was hoping for some fascinating torture scene relevant to the title. Dismembered sorcerers, perhaps. The female lead now, was supposed to be a wandering young girl, naïve enough to ‘fall in love’ as these rivvil seemed so fond of putting it, but yet with spirit and passion. _Now let me see…which one looks most likely to fit the part?_

One of the women was really little more than a girl, her blue eyes very large and nervous as she looked back at Viconia. She was even wringing her hands a little. The other one was an elf, with honey-colored hair and unusually dark brown eyes. That one looked far more composed, and coolly met Viconia’s gaze. 

Higgold cleared his throat. “Mistress Viconia?” he said. “We really need to decide now…we need to pick our Karenina so rehearsals can get started.” 

“Oh, very well,” Viconia said, waving him aside. “Though I think they both seem rather insipid…and the play could do with some spicing up. Tell me ladies, what would your reply be if I suggested we change things around? We could create what I like to call a…Reality Play. Erect a few magical barriers around you on stage so you can’t get off, then let the cast live there for a few weeks.” She smirked. “Last one alive gets to leave. Think you could do that?”

At that, the human girl squeaked, and ran off stage, looking rather pale. The elf remained, sticking her nose into the air. “I do not appreciate your jest, Drow. Will you give me the recognition I deserve, including the extra-large billing, the fresh roses in my dressing room, the red jelly bears picked out of the bowl I need every hour, the bottled Rippling Rasheman water, and calling me ‘Divine One’?” 

Viconia chuckled. “I could manage the red jelly of your liver picked out of you every hour, and regenerating it in-between, what do you say to that, _darthir?_ Not to mention that the only ‘Divine One’ here is myself. Off with you, you annoy me.” 

The elf sniffed, and stalked away, but not without a somewhat anxious look in Viconia’s direction. Higgold sighed deeply and put his head in his hands. “Mistress Viconia, please!” he pleaded. “I am running out of prospective actresses.” 

Viconia shrugged. “None of them have been even remotely suitable,” she said. “They are either stupid, boring, or both. None of them suit the part. I will settle for nothing but the best, do you hear me?” 

“Ha! The best is sadly far beyond you, woman!” The triumphant voice came from near the doorway and sounded rather squeaky. Viconia turned her head in that direction, and then sighed. There was a runty little halfling standing in the aisle leading from the main door, and his smirk went pretty much from one ear to the other. He was wearing a shirt that yawned open all the way to his navel and his right arm was placed around the waist of a pretty, red-headed half-elven woman, who was wearing a clinging blue dress with an impressive cleavage. Her good looks were marred by the vacant, glassy look in her dark blue eyes though. 

“What do you want, Parsley?” Viconia asked, yawning. “Come to ask me help you count your chest hairs?” 

“NO! I know exactly how many I have, thank you! Five of them, and all very…er…actually I’ve…I’ve got a bloody carpet of them, so there!” 

“That does sound appropriate,” Viconia agreed. “You would make a far better rug than you would a playwright, director, or lover. How much did you pay that female in order to let you touch her, I wonder?” 

Ashley Parsely sneered, and his hand moved from the woman’s waist and downwards, patting her with a proprietary air. The woman didn’t so much as blink. “Not a single gold piece, you Drow slut! Dear Rose adores me, as does any woman with taste. Don’t you, Rosie?

“Yesssss…” the redhead slurred. “Adore…youuuu…” 

“Go on, Rosie, say the words. What am I like?” 

“Ooooh…Ashley…you’re so handsome, so clever…so manly…so creative…best playwright in the world…the Stage Sage…and you’re soooooo HOT!” 

“That’s right!” Ashley Parsley confirmed, and then giggled in a rather disturbing manner. “Rose is going to be my new star – in fact, I think I’ll let her perform for you, just this once, so you’ll know how outclassed you lot are. Rosie, sing for us. In fact, I’ll join you…show them my own sterling skill.” 

The half-elf opened her mouth, and then started to sing, strutting back and forth down the aisle as she did so. Parsley began though, stroking his own chest and wriggling his hips in Viconia’s direction. Probably he meant to look seductive. 

“Body…wanna feel my body!  
Body…such a thrill, my body!   
Body…wanna touch my body!   
Body…it’s too much, my body!  
Check it out, my body, body!  
Don't you doubt my body, body.   
talkin' bout my body, body,   
check it out my body!”

Here Rose cut in, singing in perfect tune, but still with that blank, doll-like look in her eyes.

“Every man wants to be an Ashley Parsley man,  
To have that kind of body, always in demand.  
Creating in the mornings, go man go.  
Smears me down with syrup, watch him grow.  
You can best believe that, he’s a perfect man,  
Ready for some groping, of anyone he can. 

Hey! Hey! Hey, hey, hey!   
Ashley Parsley man!  
He’s got to be the perfect man.  
Ashley Parsley man!   
How did he get so perfect?”

And Parsley took over again, presumably mistaking Viconia’s horrified silence for silent adoration, for he now undulated over towards her, waggling his eyebrows as he thrust his groin practically in her face. 

“Courting…it’s so hot my courting!   
Courting…love to spread my courting!  
Courting…sure to please, my courting!   
Courting…don’t dare tease my courting!  
Courting…you’ll adore my courting!   
Courting…come explore my courting!  
Courting…made by Gods, my courting!  
Courting…it’s so good my courting!” 

And once again Rose, with a stiff smile on her face that reminded Viconia a little of a scream. 

“You will know the Stage Sage, by his sexy rump,  
His rapier wit and insight, make us wanna hump,  
Theatrical brilliance, he’s a god,  
Call him Mister Stage Sage, dig his bod,  
You can best believe, he’s an Ashley Parsley man,  
Meant to be the leader, in every way he can. 

Hey! Hey! Hey, hey…” 

And there, the spell that Viconia had quietly been preparing hit the singing half-elf, enveloping her in a brief, white glow. She broke off in mid note, gaped, and then her face contorted with fury. “What…PARSLEY! YOU DISGUSTING, CREEPY, FILTHY LITTLE PERVERT! HOW DARE YOU PUT A DOMINATION SPELL ON ME LIKE THAT AND MAKE ME PERFORM YOUR STUPID SONGS TO YOURSELF…NOT TO MENTION GROPE ME! YOU ARE SO LUCKY THAT YOU COULDN’T MANAGE MORE THAN GROPING, OR YOU’D BE WEARING YOUR BOLLOCKS FOR EARSTUDS!” 

The halfling’s eyes went very wide, and his mouth opened briefly. “Eeep…” he said. Then he took off in a full run down the aisle, only narrowly managing to dodge the fake throwing axe that the enraged half-elf hurled after him. 

“And another thing!” Rose screamed at the top of her voice. “You’re banned from contacting any of the girls, and you know it. We don’t want any of your diseases, thanks, and even if we’re working girls none of us really wanna do that gross thing you fancy where we dress up in your clothes, so you can pretend to boink yourself!” 

The door slammed shut, but not before Viconia could hear a despairing wail disappearing in the distance. “I take it you appreciated the Dispel Magic spell?” she politely inquired. 

“Oh, did I ever,” the half-elf said, wiping her sweaty forehead before she shook Viconia’s hand. “That disgusting bastard…I’d never touch him, and he knows it. So, he put a spell on me to have me be his mindless Parsley Girl or something. It’d be sad if it wasn’t so creepy. Name’s Rose, by the way. You’ve probably seen me around – I’m a streetwalker, don’t pretend to be otherwise, but I’d rather be a streetwalker than a Parsley Girl, thanks.” 

“Understandable,” Viconia agreed, pursing her lips in thought. The redhead was attractive…and energetic. “I have met a few repulsive males during my time on the surface, but that one is something special.” 

“So,” Rose said, smiling. “Anything I can do for my rescuer?”

And there it was. _Well, well. Let’s see if we can’t make Parsely’s day just a little bit more miserable and gain an asset at the same time._ “Actually,” Viconia purred, “There is something. Tell me, did you ever think about joining the theatre – for real?” 

Rose’s eager face was all the reply necessary.


	123. Amauna

**Cards Reshuffled 123 – Amauna**

_The Sun is always a beneficial card, one representing love and warmth, such as may be found even in the darkest of places. Capture the rays of the Sun, and you will be wielding a weapon to pierce the densest shadow conjured against you._

_Excerpt from ‘The Chaltar Deck of Cards – An Introduction’_

Anomen watched in horror as Mazzy came bounding out through the doorway as fast as her short legs could carry her, braids flying around her head. Behind her came…a monstrosity. There could be no other word for it. A hulking, fleshless thing, as large as an ogre or bigger, with creaking joints and empty eye sockets. It looked rather as if somebody had gathered together bones of all sorts, one from each kind of monster listed in a bestiary, and then cobbled them together. 

“Bone golem!” Edwin shouted. “Magic won’t work – and you chimps had best take it down quickly.” 

Much as he resented the rudeness, Anomen had to admit to himself that the wizard was right. The golem had vicious claws on both hands and feet, and its fangs looked as long as Anomen’s hand. Also, despite its large size, it was fast. It was already gaining on Mazzy as the halfling raced across the lava river, narrowly avoiding falling in. 

The cleric stepped forward, shoulder to shoulder with Minsc and Jaheira and with Valygar right behind them. Even as he raised the Flail of Ages, he shot a concerned look at the druid who was readying her scimitar, her jaw set in a grim expression. 

_That sword will do little good against a skeletal beast such as this one…she should…_

But no. That was a thought he might have entertained before, but he knew better now. There was no way to convince Jaheira to stand back and let others fight her battles for her. And…he did admire her for that. 

_Like a fierce lioness, protecting her pride. And she…_

“Anomen! Stop woolgathering!” Jaheira snarled, and he found his focus again. Seconds later, the golem was upon them. 

Zaerini, Jan and Edwin had fallen back behind the warriors, knowing that their magic would have little or no effect. Jan kept firing his crossbow so rapidly that his hands were a swift blur, and Zaerini followed suit with her bow, bolts of lightning flashing against the living bones, crackling through the hollow skull. 

Anomen met the first attack, managing to block a powerful blow with his shield. The golem was strong – his arm was aching all the way up to his shoulder. “For the glory of Helm!” he roared, then attacked in turn, and his flail struck against the bony kneecaps in front of him, partially cracking them. The monster hissed and tottered but did not fall. 

Meanwhile, Mazzy had turned to make a stand of her own, now that she was across the bridge, and she took up position by Valygar’s side, slashing from below even as he struck from above. Still, they were not having much luck – their blades kept sliding against the slick bones of their foe, doing little to no damage. The same went for Minsc, who was screaming with berserker rage, shouting something that Anomen couldn’t quite make out about hamsters. He decided that he probably didn’t want to know anyway. 

Jaheira had fared as badly as the others – but now she pulled back a little, casting a spell. Fire flared in her hands, so bright it hurt to look at it, and her regular scimitar was replaced by a blade of fire. The druid dexterously maneuvered herself around Minsc’s shoulder, the flame blade flashed, and this time the golem’s roar was one of pain. 

_Fire. Fire will harm it. But how can we…_

“The lava!” Anomen called out. “Force it into the lava river!” 

His companions got his meaning, and strove to surround the golem, to force it to back off towards the edge of the bride. Yet they couldn’t quite make it – the monster’s reach was long and forced them to keep their distance. Anomen felt hot blood splattering against his cheek, and turned to see Minsc, his helmet struck from his head and his scalp torn open. Bright red blood was pulsing forth, and the large ranger sagged to his knees, unable to stand. Valygar too was bleeding, there was a long cut in his leather armor where it had been ripped open, and dark wetness inside. 

Then, a voice. An agitated, high-strung voice, coming from behind. 

“Down, you fools!” Edwin screamed. “Down, if you value your miserable lives!” 

Not all that long ago, Anomen would have hesitated to obey such a rude attempt at commanding him. Not now – not in the heat of battle, though he would like to have words with Edwin later on about his tone of voice. Instead, he threw himself to the ground, dragging Jaheira with him, and saw that Valygar was following their example. Mazzy did not, but half turned, looking highly indignant. Then, her jaw dropped with horror as she saw what was heading rapidly towards her.

A large fireball whooshed above the warriors, leaving behind a disgusting charred smell, and struck the golem in the chest. While it didn’t do the thing any actual damage, the force of the impact was enough to make the golem topple that little extra bit that was necessary. The bone golem roared a final time, and then fell backwards, arms outstretched. As it disappeared into the lava, Anomen almost thought he could make out a facial expression on its bony face – one of deep surprise and resentment. 

Not as much resentment as could be seen on Mazzy’s sooty face though. The halfling seemed more or less unharmed, but half her hair had been burnt into a black and frizzy crisp, and the stench of it was atrocious. She touched it, winced as she pulled out a large clump, and then pointed accusingly at Edwin. 

“Listen carefully, mage. I have noticed you launch your spells in battle without first making sure one of us is not in the way. If you hurt anyone, I will kill you. Is that clear enough?”

“What?!” Zaerini sputtered. “You were the one who didn’t..:” 

But Edwin interrupted her, and the sneer on his face was aptly matched by the amount of venom he instilled in his voice. “(No doubt my kneecaps are in some danger.) Halfling, here you stand still living thanks to the use of my magic. Question me not.”

“I shall never need that kind of assistance in a battle,” Mazzy said. “You threaten us much as our enemies with your carelessness. Your recklessness will not be tolerated.” She pushed her way past Anomen forcefully enough that he had to clutch Valygar’s arm in order not to be tipped into the lava after the golem. “You have been warned, Edwin. Do not think to test my resolve, I will act for the best of the group.”

Edwin opened his mouth, but whatever he had meant to say would remain a mystery. 

“For the best of the group?!” Zaerini looked quite livid now, there were red splotches in her cheeks and her eyes were blazing. Even preoccupied as he was with casting a healing spell on the prone Minsc, he could tell that she was furious. “The _group_?! He’s a part of this group – and a valued part at that. But you…” She closed her eyes for a moment, her fists clenched at her sides. “No…” She muttered. “Won’t…let you…make me…not worth it.” Her eyes opened again, and some of the fire in them had gone down, enough that Anomen no longer feared she would launch herself at Mazzy and tear the halfling’s throat out. “Shut up, Mazzy. Just…shut up. And keep doing it, if you know what’s good for you.” Edwin was at her side now, his arm around her waist, comforting, and he was whispering something into her ear as she leant wearily against him. Anomen was surprised to realize that watching it didn’t hurt. There was no more than a slight wistfulness, but no jealousy any longer. 

_He…really loves her. And I…I loved the idea of being in love. Of courting, of earning the favor of a beautiful lady. Perhaps it could have grown into more, had things been different…but they are not._

The two lovers had removed themselves from the group a little, once Zaerini had reassured herself that nobody had been seriously harmed, and now they were standing some distance into the tunnel, whispering quietly to each other. Anomen gave them a final glance, then resolutely looked away – and found himself meeting a pair of solemn green eyes. 

“Good,” Jaheira calmly said, but quietly enough that none of the others could hear. “I am glad to see you are being sensible, at long last, for your own sake.” 

“One cannot be a fool forever, my lady,” Anomen replied with a wry smile. “Not even I. And while I will confess that eternal pining for some lost love is something I enjoy in literature, the reality of it is far less appealing. One must move on and…” He suddenly gulped, feeling as if an icy fist had clenched his stomach, as he realized what he had just said. “Lady Jaheira, I…I am truly sorry. Your own grief…quite a different matter of course, I had not meant to imply that…” 

The druid raised her hand, silencing him, and she shook her head. “No,” she said. “You meant no harm, and no offence was taken.” There was the faint shadow of a smile on her lips. “And besides, Anomen, if you never put your foot in your mouth you would not be you, and that would be a great shame.” 

“Ah…er…truly?“

“Truly.” Her voice grew brisk and business-like again. “Now then, we must attend to our duties. There are some cuts and scrapes, but I think we should save some spells for when they are urgently needed. We do not want to be caught with none in reserve.” 

Anomen readily agreed with this, and they went on with their work, administering healing where necessary, bandages and poultices where not. After that was over and done with, it was time to explore the rooms on the other side. Jan, Valygar, Mazzy and Jaheira headed into the one on the right, and it wasn’t long before the gnome could be heard shouting something eager about ‘hidden papers’ and ‘rituals’. They weren’t complete, but they seemed to be related to the statue the group had encountered before. 

Meanwhile, Anomen followed Zaerini, Edwin and Minsc into the room on the left. It was mostly empty – apart from a single object. The altar that Jan had mentioned before, undoubtedly. Mazzy had been wrong though, this was no altar created by the Shade Lord or any other evil entity. It was decorated with a large, golden statue, its arms spread out as if to embrace somebody or to carry a child, its face bent downwards with a vaguely sad smile on its lips. 

“Amaunator,” Zaerini stated. “Odd kind of statue, isn’t it? It almost looks as if it’s waiting for something. I wonder what?” 

Edwin yawned. “Uninteresting in the extreme,” he said. “And of course, it cannot in any way compare to the magnificent artworks of Thay.”

“Ooooh, Minsc knows what the nice statue is waiting for! It looks sad and lonely, so it wants a nice big hug!” Minsc beamed brightly at the others, proud of his contribution. 

Anomen examined the base. “It has an inscription,” he said. “It says… ‘Bring me the Lost, so they may once again see the Sun.’ Apart from the reference to Amaunator as a sun god, I cannot say what it could possibly mean though.” 

“Well,” Zaerini said, “I guess we won’t ever find out, unless we should run into Amaunator again. It’s probably just something about converting those who have left his faith or something.” 

“Then we should leave,” Edwin said, pulling his robes closer around him. “This place has nothing to recommend it, and I see no reason for lingering here. (Unless we could somehow get rid of these two and have some private time, something that seems sadly unlikely.)”

The bard nodded. “Right,” she said. “Let’s go back…I spotted a third door back in the room with the lava, we’re done here anyway.” 

Yet as he turned to leave, Anomen felt a sudden chill along his spine. Something told him that though there seemed to be nothing further to do here at this time, they were anything but done with this solemn place. 

-*-

Zaerini tried to avoid looking at Mazzy as she marched into the third room adjacent to the lava chamber, ignoring even the occasional spark that stung her face. She was afraid that if she let herself be reminded of the halfling’s existence, she might well lose her temper completely. 

_And then he might take me over. I nearly lost it in there, didn’t I?_ She could feel Bhaal’s smug contentment on the edge of her soul. She’d wanted blood, she’d really wanted to do murder, and her sire knew it. 

_Simplest thing in the world to sort out, kitten_ , Softpaws said, purring. _People are always tripping over cats, you know, and she’s just about to cross that narrow ledge along the lava…_

_No._

_Oh, come on kitten. Don’t tell me you would miss her._

_Of course not. But if I let you do that, I think it might make it easier for my sire to get to me._

_Pity. Well, have it your own way, then._

Zaerini didn’t reply to this. She’d just entered the room, to see two ghosts floating on either side of a small sarcophagus decorated with golden sunbursts. Her hands were already halfway to her bags of spell components before she realized that the two undead weren’t attacking. Instead, they simply regarded her and her companions, sad looks on their transparent faces. Both were male, and dressed in what seemed to be priestly garbs. 

“You…” one of them sighed. “Strangers…why do you come here…”

“Bones!” the other interrupted, sounded shocked yet elated at the same time. “Bones…they have them! Oh, kind strangers, please bring her bones to rest!” 

“Bones?” Anomen asked, blinking. Then, he nodded. “The bones of the child we found before. Are those the bones you mean?”

“Yes!”

“The bones of our poor Amauna…stolen by the dark ones, defiled and scattered…”

“Will you let her rest, strangers?” 

“Of course,” the Helmite responded, and his voice sounded a little choked. “Sometimes…a proper resting place is all that can be provided for those departed. But first, pray tell us who this unfortunate child is, that we might best honor her.” 

The two ghosts explained that Amauna had been a child priestess of Amaunator, in the God’s final days as a greater deity, and so beloved by the entire priesthood for her close ties to their Lord that her death had been a terrible blow to their faith, one they never quite recovered from. And now, with her remains so cruelly defiled by the minions of the Shade Lord, the spirits of those sworn to protect her were unable to rest.

“Aw, poor little girl!” Minsc exclaimed, his honest face wet with tears. “Where are the ones who would do such a thing? Minsc and Boo will make sure the Boots of Goodness stomp their bones to nasty bone meal, fit only for the baking of Evil Pies to be eaten by the wickedest of hags to be found in fair Rasheman.” 

“Hags?” Rini whispered to Edwin, who was standing next to her. 

“They are apparently far more common over there,” the wizard replied. “Teacher Dekaras told me he encountered one once – supposedly they feast on human flesh and are extremely clever in the ways of magic (though certainly not a match for the cunning and guile of Edwin Odesseiron.)” 

One of the ghosts smiled sadly. “The shadow wolves are themselves victims of the Shade Lord who now rules this place. It is too late for them to be saved, but not for our Amauna – if you will?” 

“Of course,” Anomen hastily said, and gently he took out the sad little pile of small bones and laid them inside the sarcophagus. “May she find peace at long last.” 

For a few moments, nothing happened. Then, a radiant golden light spread out from the sarcophagus, intensifying to a brilliant white. Zaerini had to blink to protect her sensitive eyes, and when she opened them again, she saw something strange and wondrous. A small girl, looking to be perhaps ten or so, glowing as brightly as the sun. The sarcophagus was clearly visible through her shimmering form, and there was a happy smile on her face. _The Sun card_ , Rini thought, smiling at the spirit. _Finally…that card is always good, and I could do with that.Goodman Valygar is the only truly suitable one of them, really. Such a fine man – the perfect squire for a knight of my stature. So modest, so properly flattered by the honor, as he should be. But the others…no._

Minsc meant well, she was sure of that. But the large ranger was simply too erratic, not nearly orderly enough for her tastes. _And that hamster – I don’t like the way it watches me. Anomen, a priest of Helm, who ought to have been the ideal adventuring companion, but who seemed oddly…off. Corrupted by his current company, no doubt._

The druid, Jaheira – well, druids could hardly be trusted, now could they? _If you refuse to serve Good in all matters, do you not then serve Evil? Come the hour of my death, I will go to my just reward, having walked the path of righteousness all my days, being able to take pride in all I ever did. Can such as she claim the same? No._

Then there was the annoying gnome – such a rude creature! She didn’t even want to think about spending another hour in his company. The Red Wizard, that was even worse. _Vile servant of Evil! I will tolerate his presence only until the Shade Lord is defeated, and then there will be justice for all the victims he has undoubtedly claimed ere we met._

Their supposed party ‘leader’ would protest such a course of action, of course. That was a problem, if not a great one. _But she is the consort of a Red Wizard, and the friend of a Drow. If she is not yet sunk into foulest Evil, she soon will be. Perhaps she may yet be saved from her own folly, and brought to her senses. In the meantime, I shall be watching her closely. And if it should happen that the scales of my judgment tip against her, then so be it. My mind is sound, and for the ones steeped too deeply in sin, there can be no rescue, no redemption. Such a thought is an offence to all right thinking folk!_

_No_ , Mazzy decided, and she adjusted the sword of Arvoreen a little as she followed the group, giving the bard a cold look. _No, I believe my time in this company is almost over._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my experience, anybody who finds it needful to repeatedly and loudly state just how virtuous they are in comparison to others tends to be anything but. Also, they tend to be very boring.


	124. Dragon and Doom

**Cards Reshuffled 124 – Dragon and Doom**

_When in a perilous situation, trite as it may sound, remember that it’s always darkest before dawn, and that the person you least expect may lend you a helping hand._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“So…this is it, I guess,” Zaerini said, not feeling very enthusiastic. She stood staring at a large, and very dark doorway. There were stairs behind it, broad stone stairs leading downward. And at the bottom…

_A dragon. An actual dragon. And I’m carrying a rock as protection. All right, it’s supposedly a ward stone, but it’s still a rock. I’d prefer a Ring of Invisibility…oh, wait. Those don’t work on dragons, do they?_

The party had dealt with a number of traps, including a nasty one where you had to walk across lettered plates and spell out the name ‘Amaunator’. Jan had accidentally inserted an extra ‘u’ and claimed that was the ‘modern Amnian’ spelling. It had taken several minutes and a ‘Snilloc’s Snowball Swarm’ spell before his beard stopped smoking. Eventually, they had found a few more rituals of Amaunator, and managed to puzzle out the proper order in which to perform them. The ritual statue had rewarded them with part of an amulet…and two more parts had been found scattered about the dungeon. 

_A regular treasure hunt. Except the treasure has a lot more teeth than I’d like._

Fully assembled, the amulet had opened a final magical barrier, one blocking this tunnel. Softpaws had gone ahead to scout, and though she’d kept well away from the actual tunnel entrance, she’d been able to see enough to give Rini the chills. “Right,” she said. “It’s a Shadow Dragon all right, or so it seems. Probably not an ancient one, but definitely an adult. Which means creepy life draining powers, probably illusion magic, and Erevan only knows what else. We’d better hope that ward stone works, because if not, I think we’re pretty screwed.” 

“We should wrap ourselves in protective magic though,” Mazzy said, her jaw set with determination. “The gods protect those who protect themselves.” 

The half-elf nodded. Much as she didn’t like the Halfling, she had to agree with that. “Better safe than sorry, I guess,” she said. “Protective spells, illusions, combat enhancers…it could all be useful. But we’d best not use it all, we have no idea what else could be waiting down there, and we may not have another chance to rest before we run into this Shade Lord of yours.” 

Valygar nodded. “True,” he said. “The Shade Lord seems to be our main foe, here. We should save our strength for him.” 

“Why, Valygar!” Jaheira said, arching an eyebrow. “You mean to rely on magic?”

“For support only, and as little as possible,” the ranger said, with a small shrug of his shoulders. “But I dislike seeing resources squandered, no matter what.” 

Minsc scratched his head. “Minsc is confused…we don’t get to fight the Evil Dragon? But that is what Heroes of Goodness do!”

“We…could always come back later, Minsc,” Zaerini reassured him. “If we want to.” _Much later. Fighting dragons is not on top of my ‘to do’ list, thanks. In fact, I hope I won’t ever have to._

“Now, taming the dragon would be far more interesting,” Edwin said, and his eyes had a worryingly dreamy look to them. “Such a creature would be a worthy mount for a wizard of my own dazzling prowess…” 

“I suspect your head would be what was mounted, on the wall of the beast’s lair,” Jaheira said. “And while it would certainly improve your disposition, it would make Zaerini unhappy, so I do not recommend it.” 

“I am perfectly capable of domesticating any known creature, druid! I know my own limits, vast as they are, and would not attempt such a thing if I did not feel confident of my success.” 

“Like with the Nether Scroll, eh Red?” Jan said, winking. “Seem to remember you felt pretty ‘confident’ about that too.” 

“An unfortunate accident, so improbable that by rights it should have been impossible! Certainly it won’t happen again.” The wizard’s voice softened a little, and Zaerini felt him grasp her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. “Though, if you are really worried, Hellkitten, I will put it off for now, and perform a study under more fortuitous circumstances.” 

“Please do,” the bard hastily said, and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, Eddie. I know how much that means.” 

Anomen cleared his throat. “So – shall we continue then? I should be able to grant each of us several protective spells, and so should Lady Jaheira, but we must determine how to divide them up, and how many to save for later.” 

Zaerini sighed. “Yes, Ano, you’re right,” she said. “Let’s get this over and done with, one way or another.” _And let’s hope we won’t all end up as Dragon Dinner._

Walking down that tunnel was not something Zaerini was able to do lightly. She kept squeezing the ward stone hard enough that her knuckles turned white, and with every step she took, she kept imagining what it might feel like to be bitten in two halves, or perhaps wiped out by the dragon’s deadly breath. Yes, she’d faced deadly and dangerous creatures before – but this was a dragon! It was the very symbol of all monsters, the one that the heroes of bard songs slew on a regular basis. 

_Only, I think I’d much rather be composing songs about it than having to meet it up close and personal. Please, please, please let the wardstone work…_

Eventually, the tunnel opened up into a vast cavern, large enough that the half-elf couldn’t quite see around to the other side. She could just glimpse black tree-branches silhouetted against the night sky though, through a gaping hole in the ceiling. Presumably, that was the dragon’s way of leaving its lair, since it couldn’t very well fit through the door at the other end of the tunnel. 

The air of the cavern was cold, and rather dank, and it had an unpleasant smell to it. It was a little like musty old books, left in a cellar. Not the rot of living things, but the smell of death, all the same. She sniffed, wrinkling her nose. Where was it coming from? 

Then she turned her head. 

The Shadow Dragon was resting, curled up like an enormous cat, the tip of its tail resting against its long snout. It was as large as a house, with wings vast enough to spread across half the cavern when fully stretched out, and claws as long as a grown man was tall. Its scales were an odd color, that seemed sometimes black, other times grey or blue, and that melded perfectly into the surrounding shadows. That wasn’t the only reason why she hadn’t instantly seen the large creature though. She was used to relying on her heat-vision, part of her elven heritage, when traveling in the dark, and a beast this size should have shone like a beacon. Yet the Shadow Dragon was dark, dark and cold as the shadows themselves, almost invisible even to her eyes.

_Cold…_ the half-elf thought, trying to keep her teeth from chattering. _It’s so cold…of course. It’s from the Negative Material Plane. That’s why. And one single whiff of its breath could kill us._

The dragon shifted a little, and snorted. Rini swallowed hard, feeling her knees go weak and jittery. She suddenly realized that she was clutching Edwin’s arm. Hard. The wizard didn’t seem to mind though; and he was eyeing the Shadow Dragon with rapt enthusiasm. 

“Magnificent animal…” he muttered. “Would you look at those scales? Oooh…and what about that tongue!”

The dragon was snoring loudly now, a sound like rolling thunder. With every breath, a black tongue the size of a large log would emerge from its mouth in a snake-like hiss, then retract again as the dragon inhaled. Every time, Zaerini got an excellent view of its very impressive set of sharp fangs. 

“Yeah…” she managed. “Just great. Now let’s go. I think I see another stairway over that way.” 

“But…”

“Eddie – please!”

The wizard seemed about to protest, but then he turned to see her face, and his expression softened. “Of course,” he simply said.

Rini gave a small sigh of relief and turned towards the stairs she could just glimpse to her right. At least the dragon was still asleep and hadn’t stirred. Before she had time to move though, she was rudely interrupted. 

“My miniature knight has come at last! Such a shame – you would have made a lovely consort!” The voice was shrill, and oddly metallic, and it came from a shadowy shape floating in the air in the middle of the cavern, before the dragon. It was wearing a long, black hooded cloak, torn and frayed at the edges, and its face was entirely invisible. Zaerini could see a little of its outstretched hand though, gaunt and skeletal, rotting flesh hanging off of glistening bone. It was pointing directly at Mazzy. 

“Never!” Mazzy screamed, and her face twisted with rage. “I would never be your consort!”

A high-pitched cackle emerged from inside the dark hood. “Oh, of course you would, little one. One night on my altar, and you would have made for a lovely shade, so evil and corrupted. Far more impressive than your little friends. You noble warriors – the shadows you cast are long indeed. If you deny the darkness within, it will grow…and grow…until it consumes you…”

Mazzy’s eyes were wild by now, and she was reaching for her sword. “Mazzy! No!” Rini hissed, grabbing the halfling’s wrist. “You can’t! The dragon…” Behind her, she could just about hear quiet chanting. Anomen, casting a spell, his words almost tripping over each other. 

“Curse the dragon!” Mazzy screamed. “And curse you! No darkness! Light alone! IN ARVOREEN’S NAME! IN THE NAME OF JUSTICE!” 

And she wrenched herself free; rushing towards the Shade Lord much faster than should have been possible for such short legs, with speed such as could only have been granted by her god, her sword held aloft. The Shade Lord laughed again, but just then, Anomen completed his spell and the dark apparition disappeared, as suddenly as a candle flame blown out by a gust of wind, laughter cut off. 

_True Sight…an illusion! It was all a trick!_

“MAZZY!” Jaheira was shouting. “STOP!”

But it was too late. The halfling’s sword had already struck, struck where the illusion of the Shade Lord had been, and was no longer. Struck the shimmering dark scales of the Shadow Dragon. There was a loud, hissing noise, and then a roar, like a suddenly erupting volcano. A sinuous body unfolded, rearing up on powerful hind legs, and the air was filled with the storm of its wings. 

The dragon had awakened. 

The Shadow Dragon’s mouth opened wide, and it violently exhaled, breathing out a cloud of black fumes. Zaerini didn’t know exactly what they would do if they hit her, but she didn’t doubt it would be deadly. Not pausing to think, she dropped to the ground, rolling, and the dragon breath just barely missed her. 

When she got to her feet again, she found that Valygar and Anomen had been less lucky. The ranger and the priest were both on the ground, unconscious, and their faces looked far too pale and still for her liking. Jaheira was standing over them, casting a spell, but the dragon’s roar kept her from hearing a single word. 

Minsc, meanwhile, was charging the dragon, Lilarcor lifted high in the air. The sword she could hear, and it was shouting something about ‘Icky Picky Dragon Poo, Raise me up and stab me True!’ Mazzy was stabbing at the dragon’s left hind foot, tears of fury streaming down her face, although it didn’t look as if she was making much of an impact. 

There was a loud and contemptuous snort, and then the rushing sound of a great storm as the dragon spread its wings and flapped them. Rini only just had time to see both Minsc and Mazzy flying helplessly through the air before she was struck by what felt like a giant and very solid fist. She was thrown through the air like a rag doll, and as she saw the cave wall come hurtling towards her, she had time enough for one thought. 

_Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. We’re really going to die this time. And if we don’t, I’ll kill that halfling myself._

Then, there was a loud cracking sound, a red flower of pain erupted inside her skull, and she thought no more. 

_Kitten! Kitten, you have to wake up!_

There was pain. Terrible throbbing pain in her head. She didn’t want to wake up. Didn’t want to so much as open her eyes. 

_Kitten, MOVE!_

The mental nudge from her familiar was like a sharp spike inside her head, and it hurt. Still, it prodded her reluctant body into motion, forced herself onto her hands and knees, made them move. She tried opening her eyes, but they didn’t seem to work right, they were glued shut with something hot and sticky. _Blood?_

Her searching fingers struck something. Something warm, and solid. A body. Small. Beard. Jan then, not Mazzy. She tried to check for a pulse, a breath, but she couldn’t be sure if she felt one or not. Her fingers felt oddly numb, and they were trembling. Somewhere to her right, she could hear the dragon, roaring again, and somebody screaming. 

_Softy? The…the others! Are they…_

_I don’t know! Some are still on their feet, but I don’t think they’ll last much longer! You have to help them, or we’re all dead!_

The half-elf gritted her teeth, clutched the cold and slippery cave wall, and slowly, painfully slowly, pulled herself to her feet. She still needed support to stand, and her head still felt as if there were knives being twisted inside it, but first things first. _Eyes. Must see, to fight._

Luckily, it seemed that it was just blood blinding her, and no damage to her eyes themselves. It was probably a good thing it was so dark in here though; she had a feeling that sunlight would have made her scream out loud. 

The dragon was over at the other side of the cave. Minsc, Mazzy and Jaheira were trying their best to injure it, but as far as she could tell they were all bleeding and looking rather weakened, while the dragon still seemed in fine form apart from some minor scratches. 

_But where’s…yes! Thank the Gods!_

Edwin was still on his feet, some distance away from her, casting a spell. He turned his head a little, and the look on his face was one of vast relief. It was only a moment though, and then he at once returned to his intense concentration. As he released the spell, nothing obvious happened, but the dragon hissed and turned towards him, its tail lashing. 

_NO!_

She hardly thought before she cast a spell of her own, the swarm of glowing missiles erupted from her palm even as she threw her arm out. A couple of them were harmlessly absorbed, but the great majority struck the scaly dark hide, hissing and sizzling. 

_Your wizard did well_ , Softpaws approved. The cat was hiding somewhere close by, pressed into a crack in the wall so she wouldn’t get trampled. _The beast can be hurt by magic now._

Edwin had taken advantage of the moment to launch a spell of his own, and several burning arrows flew at his command, piercing one of the large eyes, puncturing it like a rotten fruit. This time, the dragon’s roar was one of pain rather than fury. 

Zaerini cast spell after spell, but now and then she was forced to retreat, to back away from the dragon’s deadly breath and powerful tail. She couldn’t run, her head still hurt too much for her to manage anything more than a stagger, and so she had to be careful not to get close. Edwin too was having difficulties, he had summoned a group of giant spiders to distract the dragon, but it stomped them all into sticky goo without pausing, and then hunched down on its hind legs. 

There was a voice, a voice like a cold wind, loud as thunder, and she knew it was the voice of the dragon. She couldn’t understand the words, they had to be in Draconic, but she didn’t need to. _A spell! Have to distract it…_

A word of command, and yet another spider launched itself at the dragon, this one larger than those summoned by the conjurer. Khittix emerged from its figurine of power, attached itself to the dragon’s foot and bit down hard. Though the dragon easily swept the spider off, squashing it flat, it limped afterwards, showing that at least the poison had done some small damage. 

Once again, the dragon started its spell, unperturbed by the warriors battling it. Though their weapons did manage to create the occasional dent in its hard shell, no lasting damage had been done. It flapped its wings again, and Minsc and Jaheira were struck down, thrown clear across the cave. The half-elf winced as she saw Jaheira land on top of a cluster of stalagmites – there was blood trickling from the druid’s ears, and she didn’t get up again. Minsc was reeling, but he still came at the dragon, face twisted up with berserker fury. Mazzy had managed to cling to a nearby rock, and kept from being swept aside, but had to spend all her energy on dodging the dragon’s teeth and claws and couldn’t land a single blow in return. 

Then, the Shadow Dragon’s maw opened again, and it hissed out a few short syllables, which were followed by a quick rippling of the air around it. Rini watched in horror as she suddenly found herself facing not one, but five Shadow Dragons, each one identical to the ones surrounding it. 

_Mirror Image…oh gods. I can’t tell which one is real! And Ano and Jaheira are both out…Eddie is a conjurer…and I don’t have any divination spells memorized. No way to dispel the illusion._

The sudden, cold knowledge came to her that they were going to die. All of them, here and now, it was only a matter of moments. She had a few minor spells left, but hardly enough to kill the dragon, even when paired with Edwin’s magic. The only warriors left standing were Minsc and Mazzy, and that couldn’t last for long. They were all going to die. 

_Immy…I’m so sorry. I would have come for you._

Bits and pieces of old songs floated unbidden to the forefront of her mind, one in particular. _Well, why not?_ She thought as she readied her bow, prepared to replace magic with magical arrows. _Seems fitting enough. And it might even help._

She began somewhat faint and faltering, but her voice gained new strength as she went on, augmented with her Bhaalspawn power until all her companions could hear it quite clearly. 

When all seems lost  
We sense our doom  
Shadows on a fraying loom

Yet our threads  
Are still shining bright  
Lighting up the darkest night

Hear, you shadows  
Lurking shade  
We won’t fade! We won’t fade…

Even as she sang, she could feel a sliver of new hope entering her heart, despite the despair of their situation, and she thought she could see a new sense of purpose and strength on her companions’ faces. On all of them, but one in particular, she could see it, hope mingled with desperation. 

Mazzy launched herself at the nearest dragon’s maws, no longer bothering to dodge and parry, simply trying for maximum damage. All the copies of the Shadow Dragon laughed, in a single voice, one like thick, oily black syrup, and five reeking mouths opened wide. The halfling disappeared inside one of them, not uttering a single sound, and the strong jaws snapped shut. The dragon chewed once, twice, making a ghastly crunching sound, and then it swallowed. 

Despite her dislike for Mazzy, Zaerini couldn’t quite repress a shudder of revulsion at the gruesome sight. Then, even as she raised her bow again, prepared to meet her end, something happened. 

The Shadow Dragon screamed, a gurgling, choking scream, and its head thrashed desperately back and forth as it clutched and tore at its own throat. The enormous body was staggering back and forth, one of the illusions passing right through the startled half-elf, and the dragon screamed again. Then, it fell, crashing to the ground even as black blood poured forth from its nostrils and mouth. A final twitch of the tail, a shudder to the legs, a very loud and ponderous rumbling of the stomach – and it moved no more. 

Zaerini found herself staring directly into the dragon’s open mouth, as it had landed practically on top of her. The beast was dead, of that there could be no doubt, and all the illusions had disappeared as life left it. She saw the lolling tongue, smeared with blood, the enormous teeth, the dark cavern that marked the beginning of its gullet. No sign of Mazzy. 

But…wait. There was something. Something small, stuck to the roof of the dragon’s mouth. A sword. A fairly short sword, but long enough to penetrate to vital structures. And there, still clinging to it, even in death, yes, there it was. A small, white hand, all that was left of Mazzy Fentan. 

“She was right…” Rini muttered, hardly knowing what she was saying, even as Edwin came up to her from behind, holding her tightly, supporting her. “She…she really was the Sword Arm of Arvoreen…” 

-*-

“Only one casualty,” Jaheira summarized, thoughtfully eyeing the enormous corpse of the Shadow Dragon. “We were lucky.” 

Zaerini had to agree with that. After she and Edwin had finished pouring as many healing potions as they could spare into Jaheira’s and Anomen’s wounds, as well as down their throats, the two healers had gone to work on the other wounded. Anomen had been badly affected by the dragon’s black breath though, he was weak and shaky, and explained that many of the spells he would normally be able to cast were currently beyond him. The same held true for Jan, and although Jaheira was able to restore them to some extent, their spells were still temporarily lost. Also, now the druid was weakened in turn, and Rini had more or less had to order her to sit down and catch her breath for a moment. Not for too long though – they all knew that the Shade Lord was still close by and could return at any moment. 

There was nothing to be done for Mazzy. Anomen explained that while Helm might now possibly consent to give him the power of life over death, that spell still required an intact corpse to work on. 

Rini had briefly considered bringing the hand along for some sort of burial, but then decided against it. _She’d probably be happier this way. It’s all very knightly, after all, being eaten by a dragon._ While she wouldn’t exactly miss the Halfling as a person, she had to admit that the way Mazzy’s sword had penetrated the roof of the dragon’s mouth and into the brain was very impressive. _And she was good in a battle – we could have used her against the Shade Lord. Especially now, with so many of us hurt._

While they were all currently healed enough to be out of mortal danger, Jaheira and Anomen had been forced to pick and choose where to dispense their healing, and they were clear out of potions too. Rini herself still had a rather bad headache, and Jaheira had told her that although there wasn’t any bleeding inside her head, her brains had still received a nasty jolt. Also, that she ought to be in bed, not fighting. 

_Well, that’s true for more than one of us. Not that we have any choice._ Once Jan had recovered somewhat, he had turned himself invisible again, using one of his few remaining spells, and gone back up the stairs to scout. He’d reported that the way back was blocked by a veritable army of shadows, far too many for them to fight through. _So why aren’t they coming after us? For that matter, why isn’t the Shade Lord himself coming after us?_

“I believe I can answer that,” Valygar quietly said, and only then did she realize she’d spoken aloud. “He wants us to come to him, to fight him in a place of his choosing, where his evil powers are strongest. For one, there is this shadow altar that Mazzy mentioned, and that is likely to strengthen his powers. If he simply wanted us dead, he would send the shadows down to us, so he must have some other plan in mind.”

“He spoke of making the annoying miniature knight into his consort,” Edwin said, giving the Shadow Dragon cadaver a thoughtful look. “With her dead (and good riddance too) it would make sense for him to fall back upon an alternative plan.” 

“Oh,” Rini said, not feeling very encouraged by this. “Yes, he would, wouldn’t he? Well, I don’t feel like taking up the post, and I don’t think any of the rest of you do either. Still, I can’t see that we have any other choice but to go up there. We don’t have enough spells or potions to keep us all hidden in order to sneak past him.” 

“Another battle then,” Anomen said, and for once he didn’t seem cheered by the idea. “While such an evil as the Shade Lord must surely be destroyed, we are uncommonly ill prepared.” 

“We should have a short while, at least,” Jaheira suggested. “Then, the Shade Lord is likely to send his minions down here to flush us out, before we recover too much of our strength. We should use our time well.”

“For once, you are entirely correct, my dear tree hugger!” Edwin agreed. “We have before us a dead dragon in its lair. So, tell me, what does one usually find in a dragon’s lair?” 

“Well, it depends,” Jan said, scratching his beard. “My second cousin, Otto Jansen, the burglar, he once found this princess. Lovely lass, but foul tongue when he tried to rescue her. Said the dragon was a better companion than any man she’d ever met, because it had this really large…”

“DON’T!” Anomen almost screamed.

“Hoard, Ano,” Jan filled in, smirking. “The princess was a bit of a gold-digger, you see, and preferred not having to do any actual digging. What did you think I meant?”

The cleric merely muttered something inaudible into his beard, but Edwin nodded enthusiastically. “Its hoard, yes,” he agreed. “And in fact, I believe I spot something interesting over that way, a chest by the looks of it. (Imagine the magical treasures a dragon might have collected over its long and lonely years! And all for me! Well, for her too, of course.)” 

What they did found rather disappointed the Red Wizard though. There was gold, a couple of thousand, and some gems, though only a couple of any particular value. The only other item within the chest was a scroll, but Edwin made a sour grimace as he read it. “Bah!” he scoffed. “It is merely some text on how to create another tool for mindlessly bashing in monster heads. (Magical hammers…what next, a Saw of Searing?)” 

“Not just any hammer, Eddie,” Zaerini disagreed as she looked it over. “A really, really powerful dwarven warhammer. Still, we don’t have any of the parts needed, so it doesn’t really help us at the moment. There’s one more thing though.” And she walked back to the dragon corpse and started cutting loose as many as she could of the shimmering dark scales. “Dragon scales make for great armor,” she explained. “If we can find a skilled enough smith, we’ll put them to good use.” 

“Do not sell your dragon scales just yet,” Valygar said in a dry voice. “The Shade Lord still stands between us and freedom.” 

“Not for long,” the bard said, her eyes glowing briefly with hot golden light. “Not for long…” 

The party set out again, making their way up the second set of stairs, towards their waiting foe. So focused were they on what they were soon about to face, that not one of them noticed the terrible and deadly thing that silently crawled across the floor of the cavern behind them, and then started up the stairs, hot on their trail. 

-*-

The Shade Lord was waiting for them, of course. The stairway led them onwards and upwards, until they eventually emerged through a wide doorway into a dense forest clearing. The dead trees leaned in even more closely here than before, and there was barely a sliver of dark sky to be seen between them. Once again, there was the deep and rolling mist, drifting across the bare and blackened ground, and the heavy and cold smell of rotting vegetation hung in the air. 

In the center of the clearing, there was an altar. It, too, was black, but not naturally so. Instead, it seemed to be darkened with a thick and sticky residue of soot and old blood. A very large amount of old blood, in fact. There was a statue bending over it, grimly staring down at these remnants of old sacrifices, and it was equally soiled, so that you could really only tell that it was a humanoid shape. 

The Shade Lord himself was there, standing by the altar, and surrounded by about a dozen or so of his shadow retinue. Rini couldn’t help but notice that one of those shadows was quite small – another Halfling. As for the Shade Lord, he was wearing a long black cloak that obscured him from head to foot, and nothing of his face could be seen. She could see his hands though. Corpse-white, with long and slender fingers, their fingernails were long and ragged. In places, the rotting skin was falling off, leaving muscle and tendons clearly visible. 

_He’s an undead then, it seems, but far more dangerous than any regular old zombie. Still think we can beat him though…just as long as I can get close enough. The Reading told me as much._

“I see you have misplaced my consort,” the Shade Lord said, and Rini was struck by how oddly shrill and buzzing his voice sounded. It was almost as if his vocal cords were the wrong size for him – she was reminded of a large man trying to force his hands into a small glove, one that was straining at the seams. “Pity. One of the rest of you will have to do instead, I suppose.”

“Well, sorry to have to tell you this,” the half-elf quipped. “But the Rotting Corpse look is pretty out of fashion and the whole ‘I’ll tie you up on my Evil Altar of Doom’ thing doesn’t really appeal either. I think I speak for all of us here.” She edged her hand carefully towards her sword as she was speaking, anticipating the attack that was sure to come, and took a cautious step closer. Closer…closer…

The Shade Lord laughed. “What will not be given, shall be taken. Come, my shadow slaves! To me!” 

The shadows swarmed around him, even as the Shade Lord himself began casting a spell. It wasn’t one Zaerini could cast herself, but she thought she knew it. _Horrid Wilting. Bad. Bad, bad, BAD!_

Minsc and Valygar were trying to plow their way through the shadows, attempting to get at the Shade Lord, but their steps were slowing, faltering. The shadows were many and closing in rapidly. 

Rini narrowly escaped the grasping cold fingers of the former Halfling who had been Mazzy’s lover, swatting at him with her sword, and once again attempted to get to her quarry. But there were more shadows now than there had been before, far more. They were streaming out of the altar, summoned from their usual haunts by their master’s will, and they were neatly blocking her way. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of Anomen, raising his holy symbol, and a brief hope flared up. However, it seemed not to be enough. Some of the shadows were destroyed, those who came to close to Anomen as he protected the spellcasters, but the Shade Lord and his closest retinue remained unaffected. 

_Have to get through! Have to!_

One of Jan’s crossbow bolts whizzed past her ear, nearly clipping the tip, but although it passed directly into the Shade Lord’s deep hood it did no visible damage. Edwin still had spells left, as always, she was amazed by just how many he could memorize each day, but she still doubted they would be enough. 

Then, it happened. Something small and white, something that looked a bit like a spider, launched itself through the air, and attached itself to the Shade Lord’s face, digging deeply into the hood. The Shade Lord screamed, a scream that was as much one of surprise as of rage, and his spell was broken. The shadows momentarily fell back, confused as their master’s will faltered. 

_This is it_ , Softpaws tersely told her. _He’s distracted. Hurry, Kitten!_

Zaerini didn’t need telling twice. She sprang forward, raising the newly reassembled Sunblade, and she drove it directly into the Shade Lord’s ribcage, activating its magic as she did so. Sunlight, gloriously brilliant and dazzling sunlight, spread through the clearing, illuminating all. The shadows shrieked, torn apart by the magic, banished into oblivion, and there was a loud crack, as of thunder as the Shadow Altar cracked in two. 

When the spell passed, Zaerini drew a deep breath, supporting herself against the now deactivated altar. The Shade Lord was on the ground before her, unmoving, and seemingly quite dead. And there, on the creature’s rotting face, fingers buried deeply into the unseeing eyes, there It was. Something small. Something white. Something with five fingers, and an air of aggression about it as it strode towards her, balancing on its fingertips. 

While it didn’t have an actual mouth, Mazzy’s undead hand managed to give a definite impression of smirking.


	125. Hero’s Welcome

**Cards Reshuffled 125 – Hero’s Welcome**

_There are lots of reasons why people go in for heroism. Money, fame, altruism or sheer death wish. But there’s one even more popular than that, one that drives people to fight dragons or demons for the promise of getting into the pants of some hero-worshipping princess. Let’s face it, you get more lovers as a hero than as a postman or baker._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Is…is it alive?” Zaerini asked, her eyes very wide. Mazzy’s hand responded by making a rude gesture, one that she certainly wouldn’t have expected from the live halfling. 

“What does it matter?” Edwin asked, eyeing the hand with a look of extreme distaste. “I say stomp on it, and let’s be rid of it. We wouldn’t want it to…to start breeding or something.” 

“Come now,” Jaheira objected. “That couldn’t possibly happen. It is a hand, the…ah…equipment is not available.” 

“It _was_ a hand. The gods alone know what it is now.” 

Anomen nodded, and calmly knelt by the side of the hand. “True,” he said. “So, we should ask them.” He closed his eyes and bowed his head for a moment, his lips moving. “Ah,” he said as he raised his head again. “I see.”

“Well?” Rini asked him, not taking her eyes off the hand. It was edging over towards Valygar now, and it was sort of…strutting. 

“It is life, but not as we know it,” Anomen began. “This hand is not the Mazzy we knew, for one thing.” 

“No, she is far quieter,” Edwin agreed. “An agreeable change.” He then yelped as the hand flicked some dirt in his face. 

“The soul of Mazzy is departed from this plane, as it should be,” Anomen went on. “My Lord Helm assured me of that. She has gone to meet whatever fate awaits her. However, the necromantic magic of the Shade Lord, that he used to raise his servants, was enough to imbue this lost appendage with a form of life, and a rudimentary consciousness. It remembered whom its true enemy was, and the result of that we already witnessed.” 

“She had her vengeance,” Valygar said. “The Shade Lord has been vanquished.” He gently pushed the hand away with his foot as it tried to climb his trouser leg. It hunched up, looking quite sad. 

“Well, I guess we’d better bring her…I mean it…along, if it wants to come,” Rini said. “Hey, hand! Want to come with us back to civilization, or want to stay here? Er…two fingers up for ‘yes’, one for ‘no’, all right?”

The hand hesitated a moment, then extended two fingers. 

“Now that is settled,” Jaheira said, “let us take a look at this Shade Lord and see what manner of creature he was.” She pushed the black cloak aside, and then bit back an oath. Zaerini understood why, as she looked upon the face of the creature they had just fought. 

The Shade Lord’s face had once been human, and female. It was still recognizable as such, though only just barely. “Free…” The word emerged from between the cracked and blistered black lips in a bubbling croak. “Free…at last.” 

“Yes,” Valygar said, bending over the dying woman. “Yes, Merella. You are.” 

The dying ranger of Imnesvale smiled briefly and gave a small sigh. She did not breathe again. 

“So much unnecessary death,” Anomen said, shaking his head. “Such a waste.” 

“Not all of it,” Jaheira protested. “See, the sun is coming out.” 

And so it was. The mists were departing, dissipating and drifting away, and there was a crack in the previously so heavy layer of clouds, one through which blue sky was clearly visible. The sun peered through, and golden rays illuminated the statue that leaned in over the dead ranger, playing across its melancholy features until Zaerini almost thought she could detect a smile. 

“Yes,” Valygar agreed. “These woods will heal themselves, in time, now that the Shade Lord is gone.”

“It is begun already,” Jaheira said, smiling warmly at something only she could see. “I can sense it, in my blood, in my bones. Life is returning here, even as we speak, and the shadows and Shade Wolves are all gone, along with their dark master.” 

“So Mazzy’s sacrifice was not in vain,” Anomen stated, looking pensive. 

“Depends on how you look at it, doesn’t it?” Rini said. “We wouldn’t have nearly got killed by the dragon if it weren’t for her, but on the other hand, who knows how we’d have done against the Shade Lord without her…er…there to lend a helping hand. I’m just glad the rest of us are safe, really. And now I think we ought to be getting back to Imnesvale. I think Minister Lloyd is bound to be happy to see us.” 

“Yes!” Minsc agreed, cheering. “Happy party for the returning heroes! Does Little Rini think Boo might be given some cheese with his crackers this evening, for being a brave and heroic hamster?” 

“I don’t see why not. After all, they’re probably going to declare us to be…” 

Edwin’s face went suddenly very pale. “Oh no…” he wailed. “Oh no! Not that! Not again! Please tell me you won’t let them call us…” 

-*-

“THE HEROES OF IMNESVALE! THREE CHEERS FOR THE RETURNING BRAVE HEROES!” 

The crowd, consisting of the entire village population, cheered loudly, and followed up with much clapping of hands and stomping of feet. Out of the corner of her eye, Rini saw something bright and colorful come flying towards her, and she reflexively held out her hand to catch it. It was a bouquet of pretty wildflowers, fragrant enough to make her sneeze. Despite her streaming eyes she just managed to spot a grinning young man in the front of the crowd, who gave her a sly wink. That seemed to be a signal of sorts, for the good citizens of Imnesvale now went on to appreciation by bombarding the adventurers with even more flowers. Rini was unashamedly ignorant of exactly what kinds they were, but she thought the garland of yellow ones dangling from Jaheira’s left ear were very pretty. The druid seemed less than happy though and muttered something under her breath about ‘Waste of precious plants.’ 

It wasn’t just flowers, either. The bard couldn’t help giggling loudly as she saw Anomen hit full in the face by a pair of very lacy underpants, and the throng of enthusiastic girls who kept making the cleric some very forthright suggestions. She was rather grateful for Edwin’s menacing glower though, since that meant less enthusiastic followers on his part. _Not that I don’t trust him, of course._ Still, the wizard did have a few hero-worshippers of his own. A small group consisting of an elven blonde, two human brunettes and a halfling with her hair dyed a bright scarlet kept making catcalls and all sorts of interesting innuendos. The elf was holding a pot of some sort of climbing vine, and now and then she whispered something to it, and the vines formed themselves into new shapes. Some of the shapes were very forthright, and Edwin’s eyes almost dropped out of their sockets. The halfling was jumping up and down, trying to get a better look, and her grin went almost from ear to ear as she shouted something about ‘skinny-dipping’. As for the two brunettes, one of them had to be a mage, for as she smiled and stretched out her hand a steady stream of little sparkling red hearts streamed out of it, circled Edwin three times and then burst into glittering dust. But it was the last one that annoyed Rini even more than all the others put together. That one didn’t say very much, simply watched and toyed idly with a strand of her hair, and the sly smirk on her face as she studied Edwin was vaguely…catty. 

_Right, that does it._ “Eddie?” she said, and she let her hand slide discreetly across her lover’s back. “Just wanted to make sure you haven’t forgotten.” 

“Hm?” Edwin said, turning his eyes away from the crowd with some difficulty. “What was that, my most adorable Hellkitten?” 

“Oh…” the half-elf said, and she reached up to pull his face down towards hers, stroking his cheek as she did so. “Just wanted to remind you, that before anything else, you’re _my_ Hero.” 

The enthusiasm with which he returned her kiss reassured her that he was perfectly happy with that. And when she suggested that they take a little walk outside the village, just the two of them, he was happier still. 

Slipping away from the Hero’s Welcome party might have been difficult, if it hadn’t been for invisibility spells. Before applying those, Zaerini drew Jaheira aside, asking her to handle the collection of the reward from the Mayor, while he was still ecstatically happy and grateful, not to mention roaring drunk. Somehow, she thought the reward might be heftier that way than if they waited until he’d had the time to get sober and decide that the Shade Lord probably would have gone away on his own anyway. 

Walking while invisible had challenges all of its own. It was pretty easy to trip over your own feet, since you couldn’t actually see them, for one thing. However, Edwin’s suggestion that they definitely should be holding hands in order not to lose track of each other made the walk very enjoyable. They decided not to stray too far from the village, not wanting to accidentally blunder into any monster nests. 

“Privacy above all,” Edwin said, and as they stopped to share a kiss his hands kept doing all sorts of interesting things to her that left her very short of breath. Being invisible sure didn’t affect her sense of touch one bit, which was all for the best. “In fact,” he went on, “this could prove an experiment of some interest. (Though I would greatly miss being able to see her exquisite face and form, I would enjoy rising to the challenge of satisfying her desires blindly, applying all of my erotic skills.)” 

“Mmm…” the half-elf readily agreed. “Still, I think I want to be sure we’re not spotted, just in case the spell wears off. I mean, imagine if Minsc stumbled across us. Or Jan.” 

“Ah…point taken. And as always, my massive mind has found a solution. There seems to be a cave right over there.” 

And so there was. A rather large cave opened up in the cliffside in front of them, and Rini was pleased to note that it seemed both dry and clean. “Ooops…” she said. “I forgot – this floor will be rather hard, won’t it?” 

“Never fear,” Edwin responded. “As always, I am fully prepared to cope with any awkward inconvenience that might confound mere mortals. Observe.” There was the sound of his voice murmuring words of magic, and a few fluffy pillows and blankets popped into existence in the middle of the floor. “Pity that ‘Parry’s Perfect Pillows’ requires the hair of a blessed virgin as a spell component, or I could do this every time we stop for a rest,” Edwin said. “But I fear our cleric would throw one of his tantrums if I made him go bald.”

“Eddie! You don’t mean to say that he’s…” 

She could feel rather than see the wizard’s smirk. “Never mind him now,” he said. “There are far more important things at stake here, and mainly the matter of me demonstrating my supreme erotic prowess by thoroughly stimulating your…” 

There, he had to pause, as Rini pulled him closer and gave him another thorough kiss, dragging him down onto the pillows. He smelled nice, she noticed, and although it was a shame that she couldn’t actually see him, his hands were traveling across her body, making it awaken to his touch, and the warmth of his skin against hers as they started disrobing was…

And there, the moment was interrupted, as a loud and piercing scream echoed through the cave. 

Actually, it was several people screaming in chorus, screaming loudly enough that Rini winced and thought her sensitive ears might burst from it. The invisibility spell had masked Edwin from her sight, even blurring out and concealing the heat of his body that would otherwise have made a reddish glow appear around him. The three people storming towards them had no such protection though, so she could get a pretty good view of them. Three young human males, all screaming at the top of their lungs, and practically trampling each other in their eagerness to get far, far away from whatever was pursuing them. 

“AAAAAAGGGGGHHHH!” screamed the first. 

“M-m-m-monster!” yelled the second. “Dragon! Demon! Vampire! Feet!” He hiccupped, then burped loudly. 

“It, like, is gonna totally kill us, and, like, drink our blood!” wailed the third. “I, like, don’t wanna be a hero anymore, I want my mommyyyyyyy!” 

Then they were gone, having not even noticed the two half-dressed and invisible people sharing the cave with them. _Probably just as well_ , Rini thought. _Might have shocked them even worse. Plus, Eddie might have gone jealous and decided to set fire to them all or something, and we really don’t need that._

“Those would undoubtedly be the imbeciles that the addled ranger was foolish enough to provide weapons and alcohol for,” Edwin sneered. “They are lucky they didn’t stab themselves to death in their incompetence.” 

”Aw, come on, Eddie. They’re just kids, pretending to be adventurers. Didn’t you ever do that?” 

“Perhaps. But I did it with my usual flair, style and panache, and without ever being that ridiculous about it.” 

The half-elf grinned, and practically purred into her lover’s ear. “And I suppose your teacher would entirely agree with that, should I happen to ask him?”

“Ah…naturally! Yes, without the slightest shadow of a doubt, he would. Er…not that there is any need to bother him with bringing up such irrelevant topics of conversation. Ever.” 

Zaerini smiled to herself but chose to drop the subject. “Want to search the cave?” she asked. “It’s way too small for a dragon, at least. And I think a demon or vampire would have torn those kids to shreds long since. But there might be something interesting back there. And if there isn’t, we can always go back to what we were doing…” 

“Of course. Now, naturally I, being such a skilled dragon hunter, could easily bring one down, but I would not wish you to be in any way distracted from my erotic onslaught, after all.”

“Of course not. Shall we, then?”

The wizard nodded. “But first, some more light,” he said, and a small globe of red mage light floated up from his outstretched palm and started hovering around him. 

There certainly didn’t seem to be any dragons, demons or vampires inside the cave, not unless they had all turned themselves invisible. It wasn’t even a particularly large cave, so nobody should be able to hide there. There was something standing in the middle of the floor though. A large trunk, that looked as if it belonged to somebody meaning to travel to the other side of the world, and possibly to other dimensions, somebody who wanted to be sure he’d never lack for clean socks and underwear. The lid was open, and there was a tantalizing gleam coming from inside it, the gleam of gold and precious stones. 

The wizard and the bard looked at each other, the invisibility spell now worn off as it were, then back at the trunk, then back at each other again. “Eddie, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That all that gold could buy me a robe magnificent enough to utterly blind anybody watching it?”

“No. That this is just a little too good to be true.”

Edwin sighed. “Oh. Yes. Yes, I suppose it is. Shame…I had already devised the embroidery patterns and the way the sequins would align along the sleeves…”

Rini gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’re magnificent already, Dread Wizard. Now, about that chest…I’m wondering what’s up with it. It’s obviously some kind of trap, but I’m not as good as Immy is with traps, after all.” She turned towards her lover, giving him a questioning look. “But I don’t get why anybody would trap an open chest. Normally the trap is set off by you trying to open the lock.” Then, she froze, her ears having detected a worrying sound. A slight, almost inaudible, pattering sound. A sound as of many little feet, moving towards her. She spun around. Still nothing there, only the trunk. Only…

“Is that thing closer now than it was before?” Edwin asked, frowning. 

“I…think so. I don’t see how it could be, but it sure looks that way. And…the lid is more open than before, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Yes, it is.” 

They exchanged another hurried look. 

“I think,” Rini said, “that maybe it would be a good idea to back away from here, very slowly. I know we just killed a dragon and all, but…”

Edwin nodded. “Preparation is the key to successful battles,” he said, “and at this time (though surely not for long) I am uncertain what to prepare for. Let us come back later, and deal with…with whatever that is.” 

However, before they had the time to retreat, the trunk charged them. It all happened very quickly, so quickly that Zaerini had a hard time properly registering what was going on. There was the impression of something oblong heading very rapidly towards her, lid snapping, and…and there were legs under the trunk now, hundreds and hundreds of little legs, ending in small, but very sturdy looking bare feet. She had a momentary horrific vision of those feet trampling both her and Edwin into a mushy pulp. Also, she couldn’t see the gold inside the lid any longer, but there was the impression of sharp and wooden teeth, and of a…tongue? 

“Run!” Edwin screamed, seemingly accelerating into the speed of sound from a standstill, dragging her along after him so quickly that she feared she might fall over. They ran at a breakneck pace towards the cave exit, the horrible sound of little feet growing louder and louder behind them, and the light of the exit seemed so far away, like the smallest pinprick of light. 

Rini tried to force more air into her burning lungs, willing her aching legs to move faster, faster. But it was no good. She was slowing down, without meaning to, unable to match her lover’s stamina. The wizard noticed this, and stopped, urging her towards the wall as he placed himself in front of her, protecting her with his own body. The sound of running feet came towards them, louder and louder, thundering like a whole herd of horses now. She thought frantically about which spells she might cast, but time was running out and her thoughts seemed to be running in inefficient circles. 

Edwin seemed to have thought of something though, for he was casting a spell, his face utterly focused and concentrated in the flickering mage light. Then, just as the trunk turned the corner, the cave floor turned slick and black with a large puddle of oily grease. The trunk may or may not have seen this, but it was running too rapidly to react in time. There was a startled, wooden squeak, and then the hundreds of little legs were spinning rapidly out of control as the creature skidded helplessly across the floor. It bumped against the wall, flipped over, and landed on its lid, legs kicking helplessly in the air. 

“Ha!” Edwin triumphantly called out. “No mere portable luggage device, no matter how sentient, is a match for this wizard! Now, you ugly wooden monstrosity, prepare to meet your doom!” 

“Wait!” Rini hastily said, grabbing her lover by the arm even as he prepared to cast another spell. “We don’t want to destroy it.”

“What? Why not?”

“I’ve figured out what it has to be. It’s a mimic, those creatures that turn themselves into boxes and such things, to fool people into getting close enough to eat. And there was that Cowled Wizard back in town who was willing to pay for the blood of one. We don’t want to burn it to a crisp.” 

Edwin gave her a doubtful look. “That may be so,” he said, “But it seems unavoidable, if we want to kill it. And if we don’t kill it, I doubt it will want to part with its blood.” 

“I know…but I still want to try. It’s helpless anyway, it has been trying to turn over for quite some time now, with no luck. If we leave it here, I’m sure it’ll starve to death.”

At that, there was a mournful, keening sound coming from the Mimic, and the half-elf suspected that it had understood her perfectly. “Look, you,” she said, trying to sound as kind as possible. “We don’t really want to hurt you.” 

“We don’t?”

“No, Eddie. Not unless it tries to kill us again. Besides, I think it’s pretty cute.” She took a step closer to the Mimic. The grease had disappeared now, but the creature still couldn’t turn over. “Hey, Mimic. We just want a tiny bit of your blood, that’s all. Not enough to hurt you. And then we’ll help you out, as long as you behave, how’s that?”

The Mimic shuddered briefly for a moment. “Me give blood?” it said, in a weak, squeaky little voice that had something definitely creaky and wooden about it. 

“Only a tiny bit. Come on, you’re a big strong trunk, it won’t kill you.”

“Whereas,” Edwin blithely suggested, “a well-aimed fireball, courtesy of the mightiest wizard in the world, certainly would. Also, you want to get yourself some proper footwear, creature. Your feet are altogether olfactorily offensive. In other words, they are as pungent as a corpse left lying inside a dank cave for a week or so. Of course, in your case, it will soon be difficult to tell the difference.” 

The Mimic visibly deflated at this, all legs going limp with submission. “Me give blood…” it whimpered. 

“Good. And then we should start discussing that treasure inside of you, and the most efficient and least bloody way of getting it out…” 

-*-

Sometime later, the bard and the wizard left the cave, carrying a decent amount of gold with them, along with a small test tube of mimic blood. In quite an elated mood, they were eager to seek out a more hospitable place to continue with what they’d been doing before they were interrupted. 

And inside the cave, the Mimic, now turned right side up, huddled in a corner, peevishly thinking to itself that it really preferred its wizards to be more timid. Seeing that it had failed so abominably at being a terrifying monster, it went on to start a new career, renting itself out as traveling luggage for people in need of personal protection, and became a valued and respected member of society, traveling far and wide and having many strange adventures. 

But that, of course, is another story entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edwin's entirely sensible and not at all ridiculous childhood foray into adventuring was described in more detail in my short story 'Dresscode'.


	126. Rogue’s Curse

**Cards Reshuffled 126 – Rogue’s Curse**

_There is an old proverb stating that it is of great advantage to know your enemy. While this is certainly true, it neglects one important point. To truly know your enemy, you must at some point confront him, and he will then learn about you in turn._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

Most burglaries take place at night, when the inhabitants of the dwelling to be robbed are sound asleep in their beds, dreaming more or less sweet dreams. This particular burglary though, was set to take place at midday, and although the person to be robbed was sure to be asleep, her dreams were hardly likely to be sweet. 

“I know they are unlikely to awaken,” Yoshimo murmured, as he silently padded down a winding corridor leading deeply into Bodhi’s domain, “but still it makes me uncomfortable.” 

Dekaras nodded. “Asleep or not, we must take care,” he said. “I believe some vampires, the more powerful ones, can be awakened during the day, if sufficiently disturbed. Bodhi is certainly strong enough for that.” 

It was a pity, the assassin thought. Otherwise, it would have been so easy to simply slip into the vampire’s room, open the coffin and drive a stake through her heart. Oh, there were traps, but traps he could handle. However, Bodhi did employ other humans than himself and Yoshimo, ones used to guard her during the day. While killing them would present no particular difficulty, there would be a great risk of waking the vampire. 

No, Bodhi would have to be left alone. He and Yoshimo had a more important errand, to finally secure and copy those plans for the Spellhold fortress and prison. Then, he’d finally be able to do something about getting poor Imoen out of there. 

_And then, once Yoshimo has done his part, to see about that Geas of his. Now, that won’t be easy, no matter what the Geas is about, but getting him to explain it will at least be a start._

The two rogues had entered Bodhi’s underground fortress now and were making their way through the dark corridors towards the inner sanctum. Not the Vampire Queen’s place of rest, but one of the rooms adjacent to it held what they needed. 

As they walked, Dekaras mused, not for the first time, on the peculiar décor. _Drinking blood, now that I can understand. But filling up these large marble tubs and bathing in it, now that I doubt I shall ever comprehend. It does not seem to make any sense at all, that I can see. They can’t absorb it through the skin, it won’t make them clean, and it wastes what has to be an important resource to them. Ah well, I suppose they’re simply trying to be theatrical and show off their depravity._

The tunnel leading down to Bodhi’s bedroom had a few traps, but nothing that couldn’t easily be disarmed. And now they were at the entrance chamber, yet another very gaudy and simultaneously gloomy room that was dominated by a large pool of blood that took up most of the floor. It had spikes surrounding it, Dekaras noticed, his lips twitching almost imperceptibly into a wry smile. _What is it with these would be evil masterminds and spikes?_

There were two guards down here, by the entrance to Bodhi’s bedroom. Two large men, with shaved heads and muscular bodies, both of them armed with big two-handed axes. Oddly enough, they weren’t wearing any armor at all, only furry loincloths. 

“Bodhi prefers to have easy access to their blood,” Yoshimo breathed into Dekaras’ ear, having noticed the way the older rogue’s eyebrows shot up at the sight. “I know it makes them less than efficient in a fight, but she counts on them making enough noise to attract more…capable aid. There will be more inside the room too.” 

The assassin nodded, not particularly wanting to dwell on Bodhi’s habits any longer. Instead, he focused on the task at hand. There was one other doorway from the antechamber, and he knew that that one lead to the small library the vampire had set up for herself. Not that he was quite sure what she wanted with one, she had never seemed the least bit interested in reading. Still, apart from books, the place also held something else. A safe, and one he meant to investigate thoroughly. There were no guards outside the library doorway, but since the two by the bedroom had a clear view of it, Bodhi probably hadn’t thought it necessary. 

In the space of a few seconds, the two rogues looked at each other, made a few brief and discreet hand gestures, interspersed with the occasional whispered words, and then acted. Two small darts flew through the air, striking each guard in the neck, burying deeply into the flesh. Not that it was a difficult target, Dekaras mused, but he still always enjoyed a precise execution of a plan. 

“Good venom,” Yoshimo commented. “Which one is it?”

“Oh, just a little something I mixed together,” the older assassin said, even as he pulled the darts out. “It has a high concentration of poppy, among other things. They will be out of it for half an hour or so, which will hopefully be time enough. With luck, they won’t remember a thing, and will think they just fell asleep on the watch.”

The library was fairly small, with three packed bookcases covering the walls, and the safe standing crammed in between them. Yoshimo devoted himself to the lock, saying that it was a model he was well familiar with, and in the meantime Dekaras examined the desk. It, like the safe, was locked and trapped, but not too heavily. A few minutes later, he was pulling the drawers open, examining the contents. 

There were quite a few papers, and he knew he wouldn’t have time to go through them all in the hopes of finding something important. Still, he had to start somewhere. 

_Let me see. Bills for ten tons of marble…bills for a dozen leather strap outfits, the price per square inch for those must be astronomical…and what is this?_

At the bottom of one drawer, there was a bunch of letters that looked more personal than the other papers. The assassin pulled one out of the middle of the heap and examined it. The handwriting was neat and elegant, the paper of high quality. 

_Bodhi, the letter read, progress is being made. The experiments still haven’t been entirely fruitful, but I am convinced I am on the right track this time. It is as I thought; mental suffering is far more efficient in producing the desired result than mere physical pain. I estimate that our curse will be broken before the year is out, at the latest. Possibly quicker, if I can get what I desire from the Cowled Ones. They have quite a lot of interesting magical paraphernalia squirreled away in that fortress of theirs, and some of it I believe will be of use to us._

_I am pleased that you do well with your little war against the Shadow Thieves but remember that this is not our ultimate purpose here. Breaking the curse is our ultimate goal, and anything else is only a means to that end. Also, my preliminaries indicate that I will need a number of live humans to fully develop the process, so do try to take care not to run out of them._

_Finally, I need Yoshimo back for a while. He may be of use to you, but he is first and foremost my minion, and I have need of him. He has an ingratiating manner and is able to win people’s trust easily. It seems to me that a little cat-and-mouse game is something that would shake the soul of anybody, and certainly a Bhaalspawn, shake it enough perhaps to allow me the way in. Betrayal is such a powerful force, after all. So, I will let him win the trust of our specimens, allow them to think they have broken free, and then I will rein them in at the final moment. I postulate that this will engineer such a sense of betrayal and despair that my work will be greatly advanced._

_Have him return to me with your reply to this letter, sister, if you can manage to take time out from your debaucheries to actually write one._

Dekaras read this letter through an extra time, to make certain he had understood it fully. Yes, it still said exactly the same thing; there was no mistaking it. One single thought kept running through his head. _How could I have been so stupid? I ought to know better by now than to place my trust in people this easily. And I let the simple fact of me liking him lead me astray._

The assassin was already reaching for one of his daggers, his mind a narrow tunnel of icy fury, as he remembered something. If he killed Yoshimo, here and now, he might not be able to avoid the bounty hunter making a small amount of noise, a death groan for example. That might alert Bodhi, asleep or not, given the sensitive hearing of a vampire. _No. I have to wait until we are out of here. Then I will deal with him._

There was a miniscule ‘snick’, as the safe came open. Yoshimo turned around, a pleased and infectious grin on his face, but then it faltered slightly. 

_I suppose I wasn’t hiding my feelings quite as well as I had hoped. Never mind._ Dekaras made a brief motion with his hand, indicating that Yoshimo should get on with what he was doing. Yoshimo nodded and started collecting the rolls of parchment hidden in the safe, along with a few purses of gold stacked in there. He had managed to collect about half, when he suddenly froze, looking for all the world like a rabbit that has spotted a prowling wolf nearby. 

Dekaras crouched down behind the desk, having gone into hiding before his conscious mind had even had time to register the danger. There was a voice close by, a slightly sibilant female voice, currently laced with contempt. 

“You fools!” Bodhi spat. “You dare sleep through your guard duties? Answer me!” 

There was no reply at all, the guards still being too thoroughly drugged to even stir. What came instead was an angry hiss, then the sound of torn flesh, and then that of eager slurping. It went on for quite some time, and while it was being repeated for a second time Dekaras had to admit to himself that the situation looked very grim indeed. Bodhi might enter the library at any moment, and in open combat he doubted that he and Yoshimo could handle her superhuman strength and speed. _And even if we did, she would manage to wake the others in the meantime, and then we would be dead for certain._

There was a brief silence, and then a second voice, one that made the assassin inwardly curse the fact that he’d chosen this particular day for this venture. The voice was soft, almost mild, but there was a cool malice to it that could easily compete with Bodhi’s own. 

“Did I perhaps come at an inappropriate time?” Aerie asked, and Dekaras could almost see the little toss of her golden head as she surveyed the feeding vampire. 

“Oh, it’s you,” Bodhi replied. “Finally decided to reply to my invitation, did you?”

Aerie’s voice was impassive. “It seemed an appropriate time.”

“Down on your luck, are you?” the vampire sneered. “I thought so. You’ve really made an awful mess of things, haven’t you?”

“I don’t see that wretched half-elf in your dungeon either. Now, did you wish an alliance or not? I can be of use to you, as can you to me, but I’m not interested in wasting my time.” 

A brief pause. “Very well,” Bodhi said. “What do you offer, and what do you want?”

“I offer my skills as mage and priestess both, but especially my knowledge about the ones you hunt. I will give you whatever information I have, for a price.” 

“And that would be?”

“Only this,” Aerie said, and her voice was as cold as winter’s heart. “You have plans for the half-elf, I understand. You may do what you like with her, provided she suffers greatly before death, but the wizard and his annoying assassin tutor are _mine_. Is that clear?” 

Now Bodhi sounded a little puzzled. “The wizard I know of, of course. But this other one, who…”

Aerie laughed, a bright and tinkling laughter that had absolutely no warmth to it. “Oh, that is priceless. You really don’t know? The wizard’s personal assassin and guardian, who never goes far from him. He’s probably sniffing around this place already, if I know him.” 

Around the edge of the door, Dekaras could feel a cold chill running down his back, one that made him have uncomfortable thoughts about a sharp blade rubbing his spine. 

“Oh, really,” Bodhi scoffed. “I take great care with this place, you know. Both my fledglings and my slaves are utterly loyal.” 

“That may be so, but he has his ways, and unless you want to wake up one evening with a stake through your heart, you will listen to me. He is a tall dark fellow in his forties, thin, sharp face and long nose, dark eyes. Tends to think he’s very clever and witty, much like the little wizard. Usually he wears black, although he could very well be in disguise. And he…”

“Mordo!” Bodhi exclaimed, making Dekaras wince. Yoshimo was looking at him, and the man’s eyebrows had risen almost to his hairline. “You are describing one of my lately hired servants!”

“There,” Aerie said, and the smugly satisfied tone of her voice made the assassin wish he could reach through the wall and magically strangle her. “Didn’t I tell you I would prove useful?”

Fighting was hardly an option. Not with both Bodhi and the Avariel priestess posed right outside the door. The door that just so happened to be the only escape from the room. The room that he was sharing with a bounty hunter who could betray his presence at any second, if he so should choose. 

All in all, Dekaras thought, this wasn’t the most pleasant moment of his life. Crouched down behind one of the dusty bookcases in Bodhi’s small library, he focused all of his skill on two things. Silence, and remaining unseen. He knew his breathing was silent enough that no normal foe should be able to hear it, but a vampire, that was more uncertain. Could she hear his heartbeat? But she was distracted, that was something. Unless Yoshimo should happen to call out to her, of course. 

The assassin looked straight into the dark and still rather startled eyes of the bounty hunter, searching for some sign of what the man meant to do, of what was going through his head. How he hated this, being at the mercy of a stranger, somebody he was far from certain he could trust. It went against his every instinct and made his insides twist with bitter frustration. 

Finally, after what seemed like ages, but was really only a matter of seconds, the Kara-Turan gave a small nod. His lips moved, making no sound, but forming clear words for one trained to see them. _Hide until they’ve left. Meet me tomorrow morning at the Crooked Crane. Need to talk._ Then, he thrust the stolen plans for Spellhold into the assassin’s arms, calmly stood up, and took out a small bottle. He twisted the lid off, poured the contents onto his clothes and walked out into the adjourning room. 

“Mistress,” he said, sounding perfectly contrite. “I…regret that I have failed you.”

“What?!” Bodhi’s voice, low and angry. “What are you doing in there?” 

“It was Mordo,” Yoshimo said. “I did not know what he was up to, not when we came here. But it seems he must have been after the contents of your safe, for it is empty now and he is gone.” 

“My safe?” An angry hiss, and the sound of a hand striking flesh. “You fool! How could you let him overcome you like that?” 

Another voice now, cool and distant. “Hello, Yoshimo,” Aerie said. “Did you miss me?” 

The bounty hunter didn’t reply to this but chose to answer Bodhi’s question instead. “Much…is unclear to me,” he said. “I remember entering this room, but then things become…confusing.” 

There was a sniffing sound, as of somebody inhaling sharply. “A sedative,” Bodhi scoffed. “He put you to sleep like a baby. If it wasn’t for my brother having need of you, I would rip your throat out right now.”

“You are wasting time,” Aerie interrupted. “I will investigate this room.” Soft footsteps approached, and then there was the swishing sound of a long dress sweeping across the floor as the Avariel stepped inside the library. 

-*-

Even as she entered the room, a Stoneskin spell flared up around Aerie, protecting her with a flexible, light, and almost entirely impregnable shell. She had no intention of letting herself be caught off guard, just in case her foe hadn’t left yet. _And wouldn’t that be just like him?_ She thought about that for a moment. Using Yoshimo as a dupe, drugging him and counting on him leading Bodhi here. _Perhaps he is out to kill her. But he couldn’t have known about me._

Forming an alliance with the vampire wasn’t a decision she had made lightly. Bodhi was the one currently in the most favorable position, and she would know it. However, Aerie knew very well that Bodhi wanted this partnership too, and they did share some common goals, for now. She had been perfectly truthful with the vampire, Loviatar didn’t much care who eventually killed the half-elf bard, not as long as Her priestess managed to administer the appropriate torment first, the torment that the Goddess of Pain was certain would enable her to grasp a sizeable portion of Bhaal’s power. If Bodhi cooperated all would be well, if not, she would be dealt with. _And those other two, those will be all mine._

But first she would have to catch them, of course, and she had no intention of getting too hasty or overconfident again. 

The library was fairly small, and she saw the safe directly, door ajar. Whatever had been inside it was gone by now. The Avariel’s eyes darted about the room as Bodhi hissed a curse and angrily yanked at the metal door, ripping it clear off its hinges, saying something about how the maker of such a worthless product had deserved a little nightly visit from one or two of her dear fledglings. Aerie ignored that though. _Observe, and form conclusions. He is good at misdirection, at illusions. An illusionist turns your attention towards one thing, while in reality occupying himself with a second, or even a third. If we are meant to look at the safe, what is it we are not meant to look at?_

Tall bookshelves, lining the walls, crammed full of more or less dusty books. A writing desk, with some of the drawers pulled out, and a chair. That seemed to be it. No windows with heavy curtains, no door to hide behind. It shouldn’t be possible to hide in here. And yet…and yet, there was that prickling feeling at the base of her neck. _He is still here. Somewhere, in this room. I know it. Well, well. A little game of hide-and-seek it is._ Aerie smiled and went to work. A True Sight spell first, obviously. It was already prepared, she had prepared a spell trigger so she could cast it instantaneously, and now she could feel her vision sharpening, enabling her to penetrate the cleverest of illusions. Still, she could not find what she was searching for. _But that only proves he is not under an invisibility spell. Step two, then._

-*-

The dark space on top of the bookshelf was narrow and cramped, and it hadn’t been entirely easy to cram himself into it, but Dekaras didn’t see that he had much of a choice. There was not exactly an abundance of good hiding places in here, after all. He kept perfectly still, making his body meld into the shadows as much as possible, almost becoming one with them. Silence. Not a single noise. Breathing must slow, heart must not race. 

Bodhi stalking angrily around the safe, ranting about her purloined papers, oblivious to all else. _Yes, that’s right. I am not here. I do not exist. There is nothing and nobody of interest here.Oh no_ , Aerie thought, even as her hand shot out and just managed to grasp him by the shoulder. _Not again, you don’t._

The spell she had prepared took hold, racing through her body and into his. She could feel it doing its deadly work, attacking internal organs one by one, causing them to fail and collapse, to descend into painful chaos. All according to her will, her will to harm. Interestingly enough, it was actually easier than she had imagined, easier than normal. It was almost as if the spell was a river following a groove already left for it by some previous flood wave, one that had made its work smoother. 

The assassin gave a strangled gasp; he dropped limply to the floor, and then lay still. Aerie reached out her foot to turn him over, concentrating hard. His skin was an unhealthy gray color, lips and fingernails tending towards a nasty purple, and his breathing was so slow that it was barely perceptible. Not quite dead, but very, very close. _But that is as it should be. I don’t want him dead. Not yet._

Bodhi knelt by the prone man, one of her long, claw-like nails tracing a line along his throat. “What a pity,” she said, with a brief little sigh. “He was a quite useful servant, you know.”

“Oh, he would be,” Aerie coolly replied. “Right up until the point when he put a stake through your heart. I hope you appreciate the seriousness of the threat just avoided.” 

The vampire gave a small sneer. “Yes, little elf, you spared me the scuffle in which I might have broken a nail or two. Want a pat on the head for it?” 

The Avariel did not acknowledge the insult, she simply stood there passively, her hands folded in front of her. Bodhi knew that she had been in a very real danger, and they both knew that Aerie knew that Bodhi knew that. She could allow the vampire her little pretense for now. “He is nearly dead,” she simply said. “Certainly too weak to pose a threat at the moment, but I will warn you now, taking chances with this one is a bad idea. You will want to put him in a secure place at once, under heavy guard, and before that you must strip him of anything that even remotely resembles a weapon, or you will regret it.” 

“Strip, you say?” the vampire said with a small smirk. “I think I might enjoy that, even if he’s not very lively at the moment.”

Aerie wrinkled her nose at this. “As long as you do not play too roughly,” she said. “It wouldn’t take much at all to kill him right now. Once everything else is prepared, I will heal him, just enough to suit our purposes.”

” Yes,” Bodhi said, smiling broadly so that her fangs were clearly visible. “And then…”

“Then,” Aerie filled in, “I will please my Goddess, and we will learn a great deal about the people you seek.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the clash of two archenemies! That was a Harm spell, and let me assure you that being brought down to 1 hitpoint *really* hurts. If you want a reminder of exactly where and when these two first locked horns, look no further than to my short story 'Opera Ghost'.


	127. Dermin

**Cards Reshuffled 127 – Dermin**

_There are friends, and then there are friends. Some friends stick by you and are there for you when you need them the most, and some are all too ready to drop you like a used hankie. Sadly, you can’t always tell the difference until you’re lying in the gutter covered in somebody’s snot._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

It felt rather strange, Valygar thought, walking about openly among people again. Of course he would still have to be discreet once he returned to Athkatla, and the Sphere, but at least here in Imnesvale any rumors about him being a ruthless murderer had been cleared up. Valygar wasn’t certain exactly what Zaerini had said to Minster Lloyd, but the man had been so ecstatically grateful after the Shade Lord’s destruction that he would probably have granted her his office. Letting Valygar go about his business in the village undisturbed was a small favor to grant indeed. 

There was a Cowled Wizard living in Imnesvale, to be sure, but Valygar knew that the old man was completely preoccupied with his research, and uninterested in everything else that went on around him. He hardly set foot outside his door and was unlikely to cause trouble. 

Thus, Valygar was enjoying himself taking a nice, solitary evening walk. The hero celebration was still going on, but by now the ranger had had quite enough of it and was longing for some fresh air and solitude to think things over. 

He had fulfilled the promise he had made to his strange new companions, and Zaerini had reassured him once again that they would be returning to Athkatla now, to deal with the Sphere. 

“And Tolgerias…” she’d said, grinning broadly. “Well, we’ll just have to tell him ‘thanks, but no thanks’, right?”

Valygar didn’t think it would be that easy, not at all. Yet, for all her flippant attitude, he had to admit that the girl wasn’t totally incompetent. 

The stars were out by now, and Valygar allowed himself a faint smile as he looked up at them, inhaling the fresh evening air deeply. _Soon now, Lavok. Soon it will all be over._ Would he survive that meeting? Perhaps, perhaps not. But there was no other way but forward, not if he wanted to live his life as anything other than a slave to the past. _I was born a Corthala, with all that entails, but that doesn’t mean I must live like that._

He had passed quite some distance away from the village now, and was deep within the trees, approaching the northern hills. As he walked and thought, part of him listened, watched, and filed information away. _Mountain lion in that thicket…moving away…hunting owl…mother deer with her fawn…ogres…_

_Ogres?_

Valygar blinked, and came to a sudden halt. There, by a small creek, stood two ogres, one of them quite large, a troll, a gnoll and an orc. They hadn’t spotted him yet; he had been moving silently enough. _Attacking them on my own is not an option. And if I go back to town, they may leave in the meantime, forcing me to track them down later. No, I think I’ll stay here for now, see what they’re up to._

“But how?” the gnoll was saying, then made a whining noise deep within its furry throat. “They see us, they kill us.” It yipped with distress. “Don’t want no more fighting, just wanna few nice bones to gnaw on and a cozy spot by the fire…” 

“We could just go away,” one of the ogres suggested, scratching her thick brown hair as she furrowed her brow. “Deep into the woods, wouldn’t that be nice? No torches and pitchforks…” 

“Look, it’s worth a try,” the second ogre said. This one was quite large and was wearing a rather hideous orange tunic. “The worst they can do is say ‘no’, right?”

“No,” the orc snapped, “worst they can do is to pin all our heads on stakes and feed our sorry carcasses to their flea-bitten dogs!” He gave the gnoll an apologetic look. “Sorry, Fido.” 

“You’re all morons,” the troll sneered, tossing his head. Carrot red braids flew in the air, and nearly entangled themselves with his tusks. “All of you. If you’d only listened to me, Madulf…”

“…then we’d have waltzed up to the village and told their leader he’s a ‘rotten, fat, corrupt bastard’ for not welcoming us,” the large ogre filled in, and cuffed the troll over the head. “Yeah, great idea, Musty. That’ll make them take us in for sure.” He cleared his throat. “Look, people are scared of us, and with good reason. We can’t make them like us, it doesn’t work that way, we’re just going to have to…” 

The gnoll sniffed the air, nostrils widening. “Er…guys…I…smell Human! Behind those trees!” He started barking excitedly, nose in the air.

_Damn_ , Valygar thought to himself. _I’m sure I’m downwind of them, he must have a snout like a bloodhound._

“Right, right,” the large ogre was saying, making soothing little noises to his companions. “No panic, please.” He cleared his throat. “Hello? Anybody human out there? We…er…come in peace. Please, could we have a word? You’ll be quite safe.” 

Fighting was hardly an option. Running was an equally bad one, they could surely run as fast as he could, and the gnoll could smell him. _Parlay it is, then._

“Speak,” Valygar said, as he stepped forward from the trees, and he kept his hand quite obviously on his katana. “I will listen.” 

“My name is Madulf, and these are my friends,” the ogre said. “We mean your human village no harm, we’re just looking for a place to settle. Please, will you speak to your mayor for us, explain what we want?”

“Perhaps,” Valygar said. “Explain first. But remember, humans fear ogres will bring chaos. I can make no promises.” 

-*-

Jaheira, too, had decided to catch some air. It was getting rather hot and noisy indoors, now that the feast was well underway, and the by now quite drunken Minister Lloyd kept trying to question her about the details of druidic life, having obviously read some very imaginative books involving nude dancing in the moonlight. _Foolish nonsense. They really managed to get all the moon phases wrong, every single one._

She had noticed Zaerini and Edwin slip away, and there had been a sharp sting of pain, as the unwelcome thoughts assaulted her. Had Khalid been alive, and here with her, they would soon be retiring to their room. She could almost see the loving look on his face, almost hear the passion in his voice, the passion that few people would have guessed the mild-mannered warrior was capable of. But she had seen, and she had known. 

_And I…have lost. Vengeance, I will carve that out of Irenicus’ cursed hide myself, but…_

But then what? She didn’t know, couldn’t even begin to imagine it. 

_It does not matter. What will be will be._

Slipping her cloak on against the by now somewhat cool air, Jaheira quietly slipped outside, relishing the peace and solitude. It wasn’t long though, before that peaceful solitude was broken. 

Near the center of the village, a few vendors usually gathered in the daytime, hawking everything from weapons to ale to thimbles. Right now, the regular vendors were gone, presumably participating in the celebration. Instead, a small shape sat huddled against the wall, clutching a basket tightly in her arms. _A child?_ Then the shape raised its head, displaying a mop of frizzled dirty blonde hair, a pair of slightly bulging watery blue eyes, and a nose so large that it almost bumped into the chin. _No. A gnome._ There was a very pleasant smell coming from the basket, the smell of something freshly baked. 

The gnome startled as she noticed Jaheira, and then a wide, bright and just a little disturbing smile plastered itself all over her face. She leapt to her feet and sidled over towards the druid, dragging her basket behind her. “So, do you like muffins?” she asked without preamble. 

_Ah. Just another vendor, it seems._ “Why, yes,” the druid politely replied. “I do like muffins.” 

“Oh gooooood!” the gnome said, giggling wildly. She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I only trust people who like muffins, you know.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” She made a quick grimace, and there was a little twitch in her left cheek. “Wicked, tricksy, false, all of them! How can you not like muffins? Muffins are warm, they’re tender, they’re sweet and pure.” She advanced a little more, and her smile became just a notch brighter. “Muffins are PURE GOODNESS! Too good for this world.” 

“If you say so,” Jaheira replied. “Now, if you will excuse me, I…” 

The gnome clutched Jaheira’s leg desperately, her bulging eyes brimming with the intelligent expression of runny eggs. “Do you really like muffins? You’re not just saying so?” 

“No.” 

“Prove it! Prove it you’re to be trusted! Which muffin is your favorite kind?” 

Briefly, Jaheira considered rapping the gnome over her knuckles with her scimitar, in order to get away. _No. I might as well reply, if it will make her go away._ “Blueberry,” she curtly replied. “I like to eat a nice blueberry muffin for breakfast now and then, when I have the time. Now, I really must…” 

“NOOOOOOOOOOO!” The gnome shrieked with horror, shrieked as if somebody had just torn her heart out, and her frizzy hair stood straight up. “NOOOOOOO! You…you…you monster! Murderer! MUFFIN-SLAYER!” 

Jaheira blinked. “Oh, shut your face, you little fool,” she snapped, shaking her leg to try to dislodge the yelling gnome. “What utter nonsense. Muffins are meant to be eaten. Surprising as it may seem to you, a muffin is not a person.” 

“They are! They are, they are, they are!” The gnome’s eyes were bulging even more now, and little flecks of spittle were flying from her mouth. “You…you big meanie! I told you, MUFFINS ARE PURE INNOCENT GOODNESS! AND IF YOU EAT THEM, YOU’RE MAKING THE WORLD A NASTIER PLACE WITH EVERY MURDEROUS BITE!” She blew her nose into her sleeve. “I’ve always identified with muffins, you know.”

Jaheira finally managed to kick her off and snorted briefly. “I can see that,” she said. “The ones with a lot of fruit and nuts inside.” In the background, she was vaguely aware of some very loud noises coming from one of the houses down the street. Roars. Crashing sounds, like splintering furniture. She ignored it, seeing that the gnome was now pulling a very large bread knife out of her basket, where it had lain hidden underneath the pure and innocent goodness of the muffins. The knife didn’t look very pure or innocent at all, but it was very sharp. 

“Nobody eats a muffin in my town,” the gnome hissed, smiling gleefully. 

Heavy footsteps, swiftly approaching. 

“You want to step aside now,” Jaheira said as she raised her scimitar. 

A large and bulky shape, red eyes glowing fiercely. 

“Ha!” the gnome scoffed. “Why would I want that? The muffins are with me, I’m fighting the good fight here.” Then she squealed with horror, as a ten-feet tall clay golem came crashing into her from behind, trampling her underfoot as it fled in horror. It raced on down the street, howling loudly, and almost managed to reach the edge of the forest before a hail of glowing miniature meteors made it explode into a cloud of dust. 

“Jaheira? What’s going on?” Zaerini’s eyes were wide with surprise, and she turned her attention from the dead golem to the prone, but still alive gnome on the ground. It was with some relish that Jaheira noticed that most of the muffins had been trodden flat. Edwin accompanied the bard, not surprisingly, and they both looked rather out of breath. From the house down the street, somebody could be heard crying ‘Daddy! Oh no!’

“What is going on?” Jaheira asked. “I might well ask you the same question.” 

“And so could I,” Valygar’s voice said from behind them. It was with a kind of weary resignation that Jaheira noticed he was accompanied by a large ogre, one that looked very perplexed. _I should know better than to be surprised by anything that happens while traveling with this group, I really should._

“I was accosted by an insane gnome with a muffin obsession,” Jaheira said with a small shrug. 

“The Muffin Woman,” Valygar said. “She would be the village idiot of Imnesvale. They usually have somebody keep her in line. I guess they forgot in the excitement of the party.”

“Can’t blame them,” Zaerini said, munching on a chocolate muffin that had miraculously survived the carnage of its fellows. “She’s a good baker though.” Then she shrugged in the direction of the house from where the wails were still coming. “Eddie and I found this Mimic and brought some of its blood back to the wizard Ano met earlier, the one who wanted it to animate his pet golem. Good thing he paid us before the thing went nuts and smashed his head in.” 

“And the woman crying would be his poor daughter?”

Edwin shrugged. “The girl will at least have a large inheritance with which to comfort herself, plus she will be able to marry the man she desires. A favorable trade, I would say.” 

Zaerini bit her lip. “Maybe, but even if he brought it on himself, I still feel kinda sorry for her.” Then, she winked. “I know, we could always bring her some muffins to cheer her up. It might help at least a little bit.” 

The ogre turned towards Valygar, clearing his throat. He still was looking very confused. “And you say humans fear ogres will bring chaos?” he asked. 

_The next day…_

“A severed hand is hardly an appropriate pet,” Jaheira decisively stated. “What are you going to do with it, child?” 

Zaerini turned to glance across her shoulder. Mazzy’s hand was trailing along after the rest of the party, moving amazingly quickly given that it had to run using its fingers. They had been going at a brisk speed ever since leaving Imnesvale, pausing only to escort Madulf back to his camp after negotiating the treaty with the mayor. Still, the hand seemed positively…perky.

_Maybe it doesn’t get tired the way we do. It’s not as if the nerves have anywhere to go, after all._

“I’m not sure,” the bard admitted, raking her fingers through her red hair. “Nobody in Imnesvale seemed to know exactly where she came from, or if she had any family, and all of her party are dead, so they can’t tell us either. And even if she did have family, it’s not as if this is exactly Mazzy any longer.” 

“You could always sell it,” Edwin suggested. “Many wizards would pay good money for a severed hand that could fetch and carry for them. Or perhaps one could put a spell on it that would enable it to catch thieves. I, of course, have no need of it, since I already possess the perfect familiar.” He reached up towards his shoulder to tickle Insufferable’s tummy, and the little monkey made a chirping sound of delight. 

_And neither do you, kitten_ Softpaws interjected. The black cat appeared from out of the tall grass near the road, eyes glittering. _That thing has to go. It keeps poking me in the ears as it tries to pet me._

“Look, I won’t sell her! I mean it. Whatever. It wouldn’t be right.” 

“The adventuring profession is well known for making its members cart around various severed body parts in order to collect bounties. I fail to see the difference.” 

“No, Eddie. We’ll have to think of something else.” Zaerini sighed, hoping they would indeed think of something else, and soon. _We’ll be back in Athkatla in another day or so. And then we’ll need to tackle Valygar’s Sphere. Can’t have the hand along then, really. So, what do we…_

Here, she raised her head, startled from having nearly collided with Jaheira. The druid had stopped right in the middle of the road, staring at a man heading towards them. 

He was an older human man, perhaps in his late sixties or so. Yet despite his grey hair and the wrinkles on his face, the way he moved suggested that he was still in quite good shape. He was wearing a loose, grey robe, and for a moment Rini’s heart contracted painfully as she was reminded of Gorion. The silver embroidery along the hem of the cloak was much more expensive looking than anything she had ever seen her foster father wear, but still…

The contemptuous look on the man’s rather square and strongly built face was nothing like she’d seen on Gorion’s though. Oddly enough, it wasn’t her he was glaring at, which she had half expected, it was Jaheira. 

The druid smiled at first, half reaching out her hand towards the stranger. Then, the smile faltered, and her hand dropped to her side. “Der…Dermin? Is that you? It has been some time…” 

The man gave her a stern look. “Indeed. It has been a very long time. Long enough for you to forget much, it seems. Jaheira, do you remember the lessons I taught you?”

Jaheira’s cheeks flushed slightly, but her voice was steady. “Of…of course. You are my mentor Dermin, you introduced me to the Harpers and…”

“Yes, yes, but the lessons?”

Anomen scowled. “What are you getting at, old man? If you have business with the lady, now would be a good time to state it, or else leave her be.” 

Dermin ignored the cleric completely, his attention fixed on Jaheira. “I am not here to rehash our friendship. Jaheira…I have been sent to kill you, or otherwise seek your downfall, and I do not relish the duty.” 

Jaheira’s back was very straight, her posture tense, but she never flinched. “I…see. This is about Galvarey, of course. But Dermin, you have known me for years, you are my friend. Surely you must see…” 

“What I see,” Dermin interrupted, “is an operation in shambles, a score of dead Harpers, and you traveling with their killer. I had hoped there might be some form of defense for your actions, but seeing that you have not slain this…this…”

“Oh, hang on, let me finish that for you,” Rini interrupted. She could feel her cheeks burning, and there was a hot lump in her throat. _I’m mad. Not going to cry. Just mad._ “Bhaalspawn. Born to be bad, ought to be locked up in a tiny little box for a few thousand years, according to your friend Galvarey. That’s about what you meant to say, isn’t it?”

“Nobody locks little Rini in a box!” Minsc bellowed, and the large berserker gripped Dermin by the front of his robe, giving a little shake with every syllable. The Harper’s teeth rattled. “Boo says Minsc should put you in a box and don’t worry if all bits don’t fit inside, for he will make sure nothing is left sticking out.” From the depths of his pocket, there came an angry hiss that indicated that Boo meant business. 

Rini couldn’t help smirking a little at that. “Cheer up, Dermin,” she said. “I wouldn’t mind helping Minsc fit everything inside that box, but we won’t hurt you. Not unless Jaheira wants it, so you’d better thank her nicely.” She gave the druid a questioning look. “Jaheira? Do you…” 

Jaheira swiftly shook her head, and there was a look of deep pain in her green eyes. She sounded mostly calm though, as she addressed Dermin again. “Dermin, I have washed my hands of the incident at the Harper Hold. Galvarey was in the wrong, he wrongfully sought to imprison Zaerini for his own gain and I took the side of right. I could do no other! You must believe me!” 

Dermin wrenched himself out of Minsc’s grip and shook his head. “It is not seen that way, Jaheira. Exact the necessary justice if you wish redemption for your actions. The others will not accept you otherwise.”

Again, Jaheira shook her head, as if she was trying to deny his very words. “This is wrong Dermin. This is so wrong.”

“Your own are dead, Jaheira. What do you intend to do about it?” 

For just a few seconds, Jaheira squeezed her eyes shut, and then she opened them again, looking straight at Zaerini. The bard looked back, then gave a small smile and a shrug, knowing that Jaheira would understand. _After all, what could I possibly tell her? That she shouldn’t kill me? If she can’t make up her own mind about that, then I don’t see what I could say to convince her._

Jaheira nodded, then turned to Dermin again. “Dermin, I will do the right thing. I stand by Zaerini and will continue to do so. I was right to choose her side, and if you cannot see that, then it is your loss.” 

Dermin looked quite pained at hearing that, and there was both sorrow and anger in his voice. “Consider carefully what you are saying, child. You have a duty to justice. To Harper justice.” 

“No! This is not justice! This is revenge for a lie, a falsehood that no Harpers seem bothered to find the truth behind!” Jaheira made a cutting gesture with her hand, and then took a deep breath. “If this is truly Harper justice, then…then I renounce. I renounce my life as a Harper.”

Dermin seemed quite taken aback by this, and now it was he who reached out to place his hand on Jaheira’s arm, and she who violently shook it off. “Jaheira, you cannot mean…think this through!” 

“It would seem I am the only one that has thought any of this through. You do not, Galvarey did not, and now the Harpers out for blood do not. I mourn many fellows of the Harp, but they died fighting for balance and truth. Galvarey did not, and this matter cheapens their loss. I will not  
be party to it.”

Dermin sighed. “So be it then. I will take your words to those who will listen. Do not expect your life to be peaceful with this choice.”

Jaheira looked him straight in the eyes, never flinching. “It may not be peaceful, but it is clearer than the course you are on. Goodbye, Dermin.” 

“You know,” Edwin said in a conversational voice as they watched the old Harper walk off down the road, “one of my superbly aimed Fireballs could easily hit him from here. Only say the word, druid, should you wish to turn that doddering old fool into a small pile of smoking ashes. (With such a miserable excuse for a mentor, no wonder she made the mistake of joining the thralls of the pointy-hatted one, but at least now she has realized her mistake.)” 

Jaheira managed a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thank you, Edwin, but no. Dermin…we are old friends. I cannot imagine that he will not see reason, in due time.” 

_I can_ , Zaerini thought, although she didn’t say it out loud. “Jaheira,” she said. “I…I’m so sorry. I know that being a Harper meant a lot to you, and now…”

“Hush, child,” the druid admonished her, sounding almost like her old self. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I made my own choice, and I stand by it.”

“I…don’t suppose they’ve learnt of Reviane yet? If they had, I can’t imagine he wouldn’t have mentioned it.” 

Jaheira’s shoulders sagged a minute fraction. “You are probably correct in that, child,” she said. “And it will be very hard to explain that if they do, I do not deny it. But that changes nothing. I could do no other than what I did, and I do not regret it. I still respect the ideals of the Harpers, but not this…this travesty of justice.” 

Anomen cleared his throat. “My lady,” he said, “I cannot begin to say how sorry I am. It is my sincere hope that this misunderstanding will indeed be cleared up, but should circumstances be less than fortunate, please remember to rely on…er…your friends and companions.”

Jaheira blinked, looking quite perplexed for just a moment, and the look in her eyes softened a little. Then, she spoke again, in her normal brisk tone of voice. “I am hardly helpless, Anomen. I will be fine, there is no need for concern.”

“Need or not,” the cleric replied, “The concern is still there, freely given. Do not forget that.” 

“He’s right,” Rini quietly said. “We’ll do whatever we can to help, Jaheira, I promise, even if Elminster himself should pop up to meddle again.” 

“A pity I do not have another scroll of Cow Kill,” Edwin muttered. “The squashing of that senile old puff of alimentary gas under the rump of a sturdy bovine ought to amuse even our grumpy druid, or indeed anybody not clinically dead.” 

Valygar blinked. “You…dropped a cow on Elminster?” he said. “ _The_ Elminster? Not some…some exotic dancer performing under a stage name with a fake beard?”

Rini nodded. “Tell you on the way,” she said. “It’s a bit of a long story.”

“And then,” Jan said with a cheeky grin, “maybe Val here could tell us all about his past experiences with exotic dancers. Figures the beard could be twirled in pretty interesting ways, but somehow I always thought Drizzt the Drow would be more of a hit, dancing scimitars and all that, don’t you agree, Val?”

“I have not had experiences with exotic dancers!” Valygar angrily protested. 

“Actually,” Jan cheerfully went on, “my cousin Bindles Brownnose Jansen made a career as an exotic dancer, performing privately for the Chosen of Mystra. He was a truly studly gnome, with the longest and pointiest nose you ever saw. Ah, the stories he told me…you wouldn’t believe what that Elminster means when he says ‘spellfire’.” 

“We do _not_ want to know!” Anomen said, looking rather red-faced. 

“Old Elminster is quite the dancer himself too,” Jan continued, smirking slyly. “And he’s got old Bindles to thank for that, Bindles taught him all the best moves, including the ‘Attention Seeking Crotch Grab’ that all the Boy Band Bards do.

“Stop it!” Edwin shouted, placing his hands across his ears. “Stop it, stop it right now! (Agh, my poor ears will surely rot and fall off!)”

“Turns out though,” Jan said, “that much as he’s immune to, even Elminster isn’t immune to a really nasty case of ‘Sailor’s Itch’. He blamed poor Bindles for that, which was really unfair considering the vast number of Good Drow and teenaged princesses who could be just as guilty, and punished Bindles most cruelly by turning him into a marble lawn ornament, still in his famous Back Bender pose.” 

“If only I knew that spell…” Edwin muttered. 

“Bindles had his revenge though. The old wizard went sleepwalking one fine summer morning, after a lengthy bathing session with one of his Drow ‘nieces’, fell clear off his balcony and straight onto poor old Bindles Brownnose, which goes to show that brownnosing can be both physically painful and lead to highly embarrassing trips to the Healer’s office. Jaheira is better off not bothering with it, really.”

Jaheira’s eyes looked somewhat glazed over by now, but at this, she nodded, and even smiled. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, so I am.)


	128. Portent and Parts

**Cards Reshuffled 128 – Portent and Parts**

_Normally, human bodyparts get on just fine with their jobs, doing what they’re told without causing any scenes. Of course, normally human bodyparts aren’t subjected to necromancy, especially by a necromancer who’s outright nuts. Don’t ever ask a necromancer to ‘show and tell’, unless you have a very strong stomach._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Look, my darling dearest, we’re getting visitors!” 

Nalia looked up from the book she was reading, placed a thin leather bookmark inside it, and then closed it. “Neophyte Necromancer” it was called, and she was making quite a lot of progress recently. Certainly, she had moved far beyond ‘Necromancy For Dummies’. Why, even this morning she had summoned up a whole host of skeletons in the dungeons, and they were currently quite busy performing an energetic dance in the great hall. Not that she needed them to do so, but it was a matter of perfecting her control over them. 

Now, she leaned back against the chest of her darling mate, entwined her fingers in his soft, brown hair, and kissed his tattooed face. “What does it matter, Xzar, my darling, as long as we have each other?” she asked. “Anyway, how do you know?”

The necromancer’s eyes lit up, and he started kissing his way energetically up her pale arm, her black sleeve sliding back as he did so. “Saw them…” * kiss * “In the mirror…” * kiss * “…coming up the road…” * kiss * “…to visit us. The rabbits haven’t stopped them…” * kiss * “…and the dancing green goblins in the kitchen want to put on a feast.” * kiss * “Shall we serve them some nice liver, with chianti and some fava beans, my dulcimer darling?”

“But we couldn’t possibly,” Nalia protested. “Isaea must have rotted weeks ago, we wouldn’t want them to fall ill. Unless they’re nasty, uncultured peasants, of course.” She turned and looked into the mirror that Xzar was pointing at, a new one that he had acquired only recently. In it, she could see a clear vision of the road leading up to the Keep, complete with the poisoned thorns and wailing wraiths. A small group of people were walking along it, and she recognized them clearly. “Oh Xzar!” she happily exclaimed. “It’s our dear friends, after such a long time! And look, they’ve brought somebody else along with them, I don’t recognize him.” 

“He’s not a rabbit dealer, is he? If he is, I’ll ask Monty to bring out the flaming pitch.” 

“I don’t think so. Actually, he looks more like a…” 

-*-

“…ranger?” Jan asked. “I mean, think of it, you could have been a mage and all, right?”

“I. Do not. Want. To be. A mage.” Valygar said, between clenched teeth. The disgusted look on his face suggested that Jan might as well have asked him why he didn’t want to become a male prostitute. 

Edwin shook his head, trying his best to ignore the gnome’s ramblings. For some reason that he couldn’t quite pinpoint he was feeling edgy and uneasy, and it had nothing to do with paying a visit to Xzar and Nalia’s insane household. He fussed with the amulet hanging around his throat, trying to adjust it. It felt cold to the touch, freezing cold, and it usually never did that. 

“Well, well,” Jan was saying, “if you want to be way. You know, Val, being this gloomy usually comes from having some sort of deep, emotional trauma in your past. Tell you what, just relax, lean back, and tell me all about your mother.” 

For a few seconds, Valygar’s face went very still, and although his voice remained perfectly level it gave the impression that he was only just holding back a snarl. “My mother, is it? You want to know about her? I’ll tell you about my mother. She fell to our family curse young, toying with magic, sinking half our fortune into ancient texts and scrolls. She was obsessed with it. Even my father could barely drag her away from her studies. She practically ignored me from the day I was born.”

“Aw,” Minsc said, patting the dark-skinned ranger on the arm, “That is not right. Little babies shouldn’t be ignored, they should be cuddled and played with, just like soft and furry hamster babies are.” 

“She didn't regret her neglect until after my father died,” Valygar went on, his attention firmly fixed on Jan. “She became so anguished she reanimated him and went insane trying to lavish attention on his zombie.”

_What a preposterous idea_ , Edwin thought. _If she wanted an undead lover, a zombie would be far too squelchy. Now a skeleton on the other hand, that holds some potential…_

“Er…” Jan said. 

“Ultimately, she entered undeath to join him, and I was forced to destroy them both lest they do more harm. I was crying as I did so.” If looks had been enough to kill, Jan would have been a small pile of shriveled dead flesh by now. “Satisfied, gnome? Or did you want to know something else about my mother?”

“Um…no,” Jan said, and he was actually squirming a little. “I think that’s enough, thanks.” 

“Good. Perhaps we can discuss where we are going? I believe something was mentioned about staying with friends?”

“Finally, we will be able to sleep in proper quarters, rather than under the stars or in some rattrap inn,” Edwin muttered. “It is no more than I deserve, after all.” _And need. What is it that is bothering me so much?_

Zaerini winced a little, nervously fiddling with a strand of her hair. “Er..:Valygar? Those friends I mentioned…well, there’s something you ought to know. I know you won’t like it, but it really is the safest place to stop before we get to Athkatla, and there’s no way we’ll reach Athkatla until tomorrow sometime, so…”

Valygar frowned. “You are babbling.” 

“Well, see…they’re…not bad people as such. At least not totally. I mean, at least I think you’ll like Nalia, she’s nice and all, and you won’t have to chat too much with the others if you don’t want to, I’m sure…”

“What is wrong with them?” Valygar asked, not letting the half-elf avoid his gaze. 

“Um…they’re sort of…well, necromancers, actually. Well, not Montaron, he’s…just kind of unpleasant in general. And then there’s Abduh, but he’s better seen than described, really. And, well, I understand that you’d dislike necromancers especially, what with your parents and all that, which I’m really very sorry to hear about. Only, if we’re going to visit them, you can’t attack them, get it?” 

“Necromancers.” 

“Um…yes. And then there’s Abduh, their…er…butler.”

Valygar’s eyes narrowed. “Yes?”

“Abduh is…well, he’s vitally challenged, so to speak.”

“Dead?”

“Sort of. Undead, actually.” Zaerini closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. “He’s a zombie.” 

By now, a small muscle along Valygar’s jaw was twitching. “You want me to stay the night at a castle inhabited by two necromancers and their zombie butler?”

“It is the most convenient place to stop between here and Athkatla,” Jaheira reminded him. The druid had been rather quiet since the encounter with Dermin, but her voice sounded as firm as ever. 

“I can stay in the woods.”

“And suppose the Cowled Wizards track you down?”

“Then they will kill him,” Edwin waspishly said, “and good riddance too.” Once again, he ran his fingertips across his amulet. Still icy cold, and as he pulled it out to examine it, it looked very dark, far more so than he was used to seeing it. _Something is wrong, but what?_

“Then I will at least be spared any more corrupt mages and their monstrous undead creations,” Valygar retorted, glaring at the wizard. “I want nothing to do with any undead creatures, now or in the future, I would rather…” Here, he broke off, and looked downwards, then winced. Mazzy’s hand was sitting on his boot, tugging at his trouser leg, and it was hunched in upon itself in a way that was positively mournful. “Oh. No, I meant…” 

The hand shivered, and slowly ambled off, dragging itself along on its fingertips. Valygar hurried after it, speaking in a quiet voice. “No, no, some undead creatures can be tolerated, of course…yes, I really mean that. Yes, I do, I’m not saying it just to not hurt your feelings. Of course I can prove it.” He turned towards the others, and sighed. “I will come. But do not expect me to do small talk.” 

“You…can understand what it is saying?” Anomen asked, looking a little wide eyed. 

“Yes. It’s not so different from reading the body language of an animal, really. All this hand needs is a little kindness, I’m sure.” Mazzy’s hand now leapt into the air a few times, raced in a circle around Valygar’s feet and leapt into the air, clinging to the ranger’s leg again, although to the upper portion of it this time. Valygar’s eyes widened, and he carefully dislodged the hand, setting it down on the ground.

“Perhaps not that much kindness though,” Jaheira suggested. “Or you may find yourself with a hand for a permanent lifemate.” 

“He should be used to that,” Edwin muttered. “I’m sure he is by far more intimately familiar with the Lady Palm and her five daughters than with any actual female. After all, what woman with self-respect would put up with the smell?”

“At least I don’t smell of perfume,” Valygar blandly remarked.

“This is a manly cologne, you blabbering imbecile! Not perfume!” 

“Edwin…” Zaerini said, and there was a clear hint of warning in her voice. “Not now, please.” She rubbed her hands briskly together. “Right, if everything’s settled now, let’s head for Keep De’Arnise. And I hope they’ve got something nice for dinner, I’m starving…”

Edwin didn’t reply. He trailed along after the rest of the party, deeply in thought, trying to cope with the gnawing sense of wrongness deep inside his belly. 

_Boss?_ Insufferable asked, his little face scrunched up with worry. _What’s wrong?_

_I…I don’t know, Suffy. But whatever it is, I don’t like it._ He sighed quietly. _I wish that Teacher Dekaras were here, so I could ask him. He had my amulet commissioned; he would know._

Against his skin, the smooth dark stone of the amulet burned with freezing cold. 

-*-

“More tea?” Nalia asked, smiling sweetly. “It’s Auntie Delcia’s special kind.” 

Valygar stared grimly into his cup of thick, black, bubbling liquid. A lovely cup of bone china it was, with decorations of roses around the rim. He was surprised the tea hadn’t eaten through it already. _And just what kind of bone is it?_ “Thank you, no,” he said. 

“But you’ve hardly had anything!” Xzar protested. The tattooed necromancer was sitting next to Nalia on a puffy red loveseat, one of his arms wrapped around her waist and his head resting on her shoulder. “Look, you’ve barely touched the liver patty, and Mommy always used to say that if you don’t finish what’s on your plate, then the daisy-shaped tentacled beasts from the Great Beyond will come creeping out from under your bed, and the noises they make will be as those of a thousand souls screaming in agony!”

“Your _mother_ said that?” Zaerini asked, and she looked rather wide-eyed. 

“Maybe,” Xzar said, and then he giggled. “Or it could have been the Rabbits, I can’t remember. The Rabbits say a lot of things, did you know that their wicked master plan is to kill all men and make all women succumb to their dastardly temptations!” 

“Rabbits?” Valygar asked. He didn’t really want to know, but he was unable to help himself. _Could this madman possibly be related to Jan? He’s taller of course…are there such things as half-gnomes? Am I going insane myself to even be thinking this?_

“Oh yes!” Nalia enthusiastically exclaimed. She smiled, a broad, dreaming smile. “Rabbits are ever so good at that sort of thing…it’s the fuzzy ears, you see.” She giggled and gave her lover a long kiss on the lips. “Good thing Xzar is just as good with his…”

“Ah…er…and how is everything else with you, Nalia?” Jaheira asked, and there was a desperate tension in her voice. “How…how have things gone with your former suitor? The one who wanted to force you into marriage with him, against your will, and to steal this Keep?”

Nalia’s smile widened a little more, and then she giggled. “Oh yes. Isaea. I’d almost forgotten about him by now.” She giggled again and switched over to a kind of sing-song voice. “He came to viiisit…but he had so much fun he never wanted to leave! Want to see him?” 

The adventurers all looked at each other. “I guess,” Zaerini eventually said. “Unless it involves digging up shallow graves to find him, or something?”

“No, no, no, no!” Xzar tittered. “No grave for Isaea, no, no. Although that sounds like a fun game…we must remember that! There could be points given for which parts you manage to find too.”

“Abduh!” Nalia said, again with that sweet smile of hers. “Please bring Isaea here, our guests want to see him.” 

“Urrrrrrghhh!” A deep, somehow dripping voice said from right behind Valygar’s chair, and he had to carefully focus on setting the teacup down in order to not reach for his katana right there and then. 

A big, gray, hulking figure lurched towards the door, pausing only to pick up one of its fingers as it accidentally fell off and landed on a plate of delicious cucumber sandwiches, and Valygar closed his eyes for a moment, trying not to think about where he was and what he was doing. _A zombie butler. I’m having tea with two necromancers and their zombie butler._ Zaerini had pleaded with him not to cause a scene, and he would keep his word of course, but still…it was hard. 

“So, you’ll be going back to Athkatla now?” Nalia inquired. 

Zaerini nodded. “Yes, we’ve promised to help Valygar with this magical sphere of his, and of course we still need to raise more money for rescuing Immy. We’re getting close, but not quite there yet. And then we… Aaagghh! What _is_ that?”

Abduh had returned, bearing a round glass fishbowl. And inside the bowl was a severed head, looking out through the glass with blank eyes as it used its own ears to propel itself around in circles. 

“Isaea!” Nalia said, waving at the head. “Come meet our guests!” 

“Do you like it?” Xzar asked. “It was a tricksy business reanimating him, oh yes, but I think even the Great and Powerful Old Ones couldn’t have done better, what with them having so many eyes and so few fingers for the sewing.” 

“Um…charming…” Zaerini said, and she was inching backwards in her chair, while not taking her eyes off the swimming head. 

“Not too shabby, I suppose,” Edwin admitted. “Although I prefer conjured creatures myself, they don’t drip unsightly fluids all over the carpets, unlike the undead.” He reached out his hand to tap on the glass. The head startled, then paddled backwards, a stream of bubbles emerging from its mouth. 

“For the sake of Silvanus!” Jaheira said, and she was looking rather pale. “Will you please put that thing away, it is disgusting!” 

“Yes,” Nalia admitted. “Isaea never was hugely handsome, I’m afraid. But I still think death becomes him, at least now he’s wonderfully quiet and polite.”

“Do you still need to feed him?” Jan asked, an interested expression on his face. “After all, he doesn’t have a belly any longer. Which is a rather interesting ailment to be faced with, come to think of it. It reminds me of my second-cousin Bessie Jansen who was partially minotaur and had four bellies. You see, when she had to…”

Here, the gnome was interrupted by a tinkling sound as a cup of tea fell over, and a spoon clattered to the floor. Mazzy’s hand was racing across the table, as fast as it could go, and now it jumped onto the rim of the fishbowl, balancing precariously. It dipped one dainty finger into the water, and then startled when Isaea snapped after it. 

“Aw, the poor little thingy!” Nalia exclaimed, cradling the trembling hand to her chest. “Did the mean, bad, nasty old Isaea scare you? I won’t let him hurt you, I promise!” She patted the hand reassuringly, and it settled down in the crook of her arm. 

“Er, Nalia?” Zaerini said. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to make you a suggestion. See, the ‘Thingy’ here could really use a new home…” 

-*-

The sun eventually set, and so Valygar had an excellent excuse for retiring to his room, which he did as soon as he possibly could. It was a surprisingly normal room, given the inhabitants of the castle. Situated in one of the keep’s towers, it had a somewhat narrow, but soft and freshly made bed, a table and a pair of armchairs, and a chest of drawers. All of the furniture was of good quality, if old, and there was a refreshing absence of ghosts, goblins or undead. Especially undead. He had searched the room to make certain of that, even gone as far as looking under the bed. 

As he was getting undressed, the ranger pondered the events of the day. Spending the night at a castle inhabited by necromancers and undead was still a highly unappealing prospect, but at least young Nalia seemed to be a pleasant enough lady, all things considered. That she was not only a mage, but a mage devoted to necromancy was a hard pill to swallow. Not to mention her being involved with that…that Xzar. But that relationship, odd as it might seem, wasn’t really his business. His business lay ahead, in Athkatla, and he wouldn’t have to wait much longer now. 

_The Sphere. Lavok. Will I be able to finish it, at long last? Or will the last of the Corhalas fail, as all the ones before him?_

A gleeful shout of ‘Look Monty, the hipbone’s connected to the legbone! I score an extra ten points!’ sounded from outside, and although Valygar suspected he really didn’t want to see what was going on, he was still unable to help himself. Xzar was leaping and cavorting all over the courtyard, carrying a shovel. Now and then he paused to dig a hole in the ground, and to pull something out of it. Nalia was walking along after him, playing a flute. The piping was shrill, annoying and highly unpleasant, and reminded Valygar of some poor animal caught in a trap. Finally, there was a halfling, who was dragging his feet in a way that fairly screamed ‘sulking’. He was also dragging a cart, onto which Xzar would toss his findings. There was quite a heap of skeletal remains on it already. 

_No. I don’t want to know. No more necromancers, no more insanity, and above all, no more undead! Just give me one good night of uninterrupted sleep, so I’ll be prepared for Lavok in the morning._

Two hours later, Valygar was still tossing and turning, trying to catch as much as a moment’s sleep. It turned out that the bedroom of his hosts was situated directly above him. It also turned out that the hunt for buried bodyparts had made them rather…frisky. You wouldn’t have thought it from looking at Xzar, but the man was apparently very tenacious. Valygar ground his teeth together as the noises began again. 

“Oh Xzar!”

“Oh Nalia!”

“Oh Xzar!”

“Oh Nalia!”

“You drive me wild with mad desire and weird urges!”

“My darkling deadly one, the rattling of the bones in the empty halls beyond the walls of the universe grows silent with awe in your presence!” 

Then there were other, rather less articulate noises. Valygar groaned and put his pillow over his head. _Make it stop. Please, make it stop._ He wasn’t praying to any god of course. No, just…just asking the universe in general. Just in case it might listen, in a thoroughly disincarnate and godless fashion. _Please?_ Tentatively, he raised the pillow a bit. 

“Make some magic, my naughty necromancer love!” 

“Anything for you, my Precioussssss! Yesss, yesss, ourssssssss forever!” 

Wincing, Valygar pulled the pillow back in place, trying to shut the world, or at least the part of it containing necromancers, out. However, this proved a little hard, as within the next few seconds the world shook. 

The ceiling above started glowing with pink magical light; there was the sensation of all noises slowing down into long, rubbery groans, and Valygar’s stomach lurched violently, caught as he was on the very fringe of the spell. There was a pressure building behind his eyes, as if something was trying to burst out of his skull, and his skin suddenly felt too small to contain him. Then, as abruptly as it had started, the sensation subsided, leaving behind only a faint tingling in his skin. 

For a moment, Valygar simply lay there, clutching his sheets as he stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t glowing any longer, and all was silent above. 

And then, the screams of terror started.


	129. Chains of Pain

**Cards Reshuffled 129 – Chains of Pain**

_Prisons can usually be broken out of, given enough time. But there is one prison that will yield to no lockpicks in the world yet is bound to set you free in the end. If the door to that prison swings suddenly open, it takes a very desperate situation indeed for anybody to wish to walk through it._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

Poison. Poison running through his body, twisting and distorting, making every part of him cry out with pain. It had to be. What else could feel like this? 

There wasn’t a single part of him that felt as it should, actually. From his churning stomach to the pain in his chest each time he managed to draw a rasping breath, to the agonizingly slow beat of his heart that seemed about to lurch to a stop at any moment, everything was breaking down. And it hurt. Oh, how it hurt. 

_If you could calculate bodily health in percentages, I think I would be at about one percent right now. Maybe a half._ The fleeting thought was oddly amusing, laughable really, but all that came out of his mouth was a painful hiss. _Right. Not enough breath to laugh with. Should have known._

He had blacked out for a time, as…things…were going on. Things he probably didn’t want to remember. The last he remembered before waking up was the spell hitting him, and then the agony. Now…now he was lying on something cold and flat. It felt like stone. _Table? No…tomb, of course._ They hadn’t settled for ropes, instead choosing to secure him with what felt like about a ton of heavy chains. _How…flattering._ They were crushing his chest, those chains, biting into his flesh, but worst of all making it even harder to draw breath. 

Chains. That was bad. For chains, you needed lockpicks, and he didn’t have any. Of course, for ropes you needed something to cut the ropes with, and he didn’t have that either. He could vaguely recall somebody saying something about ‘stripping’, and it seemed that they must have, for he could feel the cold iron directly against his skin. For a fleeting second or two, he couldn’t help feeling rather proud of having made enough of an impression that they would take such a precaution. _Foolish. Far better if they had underestimated me. But she won’t. Knows me too well._

And then, as if on cue, there was a cool voice, right by his side. “I see you are awake,” Aerie said. “Good. I will need you awake.”

Dekaras forced himself to open his eyes, staring up at the elf through a haze of pain. His vision was blurred…it was difficult to see her properly. All he could make out was the pale oval of her face, surrounded by long locks of golden hair. For a moment he wondered if she expected him to say something defiant, but then decided against it. They both knew how futile any such grand statements would be, after all. She would either kill him now, or else torture him and kill him afterwards. Probably the later, or he would already be dead. 

_But I can still win. I can still escape her. She will want me to talk, to reveal what I know of Edwin and the others. Perhaps use me against them in some other way. I cannot let that happen. So, I must escape her before it does. I have to make her kill me, there is no other way out._

“First, I must fix you up a bit,” Aerie remarked. She murmured a few words, passing her cool hands briefly along the prone man’s body, and there was a brief glow of light. Dekaras blinked and realized that it had grown a bit easier to breathe, and that his head wasn’t spinning quite as much as before, even though he was still too weak to even try to move. “It may surprise you to learn,” the elf went on, “that my Mistress greatly approves of her clergy being skilled at healing. After all, it wouldn’t do for people to die too soon, would it?” There was a small smile on her rosebud lips, and the tiniest hint of a flush to her cheeks. 

“And does she also approve of you submitting to a vampire?” Dekaras said, relieved that his voice was more or less steady now, even if not as strong as usual. “Yes, I’m sure she’s getting a great thrill out of watching you lick Bodhi’s feet, or for that matter any other similarly smelly bodyparts. But then, what else could you really do, having failed so miserably at every task set before you?” He took a breath and gathered himself. “You know, sometimes I suspect you really must miss your wings. If you’d had them still, you could at least have made yourself useful being an amusement ride for small children, rather than making a fool of yourself as you do. Of course, perhaps that is what Loviatar intends for you – even gods need a court jester or two, I suppose.” 

Aerie’s blue eyes narrowed, and her lips pinched together. Her face tensed, and for a moment he thought he had got her. But then, she relaxed again, and the chilling smile returned. “Very good,” she said. “You almost had me. But no, I will not kill you. I am not quite that much of a fool. What I will do, is have you sing for me, to remind us both of those lovely days at the Thayvian Opera, where first we met. But since your voice is undoubtedly unschooled, I will settle for screaming. Let me accompany you.” 

Another spell hit, and this one wasn’t one of healing, oh no. Pain, a blue fire of pain crackling through his entire body, twisting his field of vision into a swirling gray void, pain that squeezed his heart into a tiny throbbing stone and made his every muscle contract with agony. 

Then, it stopped, as suddenly as it had begun, and after a final spasm his body relaxed, as he struggled to draw breath again. 

“Hm,” Aerie said, frowning. “No screaming yet? Well, I’m in no hurry. We’ll get there, eventually.”

Then followed what could have been five minutes, or ten, or perhaps even half an hour. It was impossible to tell, what with the repeating bouts of terrible agony. Had he screamed? He didn’t think so, but he knew he must have passed out a couple of times, because there were black holes in his memory. And now his body was streaming with sweat, his muscles twitched spasmodically, unable to relax, and he could feel the taste of hot blood in his mouth. He must have bitten into his lips, or tongue, in order to keep from screaming, but since every part of him was hurting anyway, he couldn’t quite decide which it was. _She wants me to scream._ That was the one thought he clung to. _Mustn’t do it. If I do not, perhaps she will become careless enough to kill me._ However, he was very much afraid that he would be unable to keep from doing it for much longer. 

There was a waft of cold air, as somebody entered the room, somewhere behind him. He could just barely make out soft footsteps against a stone floor. “The Mistress wishes to see you,” an indifferent voice said. “It is urgent.”

“What?!” Aerie sounded more than a little annoyed at the interruption. “She knows I am busy, and she knows what with. Why does she want to see me now?”

“She did not say,” the bored voice replied. “I don’t need to know, I’m sure. She only told me to guard the prisoner while you were gone, and to tell you to meet her in her chambers at once.” 

“Very well, I will come. But this had better be important.” The elf bent over her captive, close enough that he could feel her warm breath against his face. “As for you, I will see to you later.” 

There was the swish of her skirts, and her rapid footsteps walking away. A brief silence, and then the sense of somebody approaching. A face leant in over him, a pale face with eyes the color of pale green glass, and just as expressionless. Fangs glinted between bloodless lips. “Chains,” the vampire said. “Inconvenient. A good thing I brought company.” The vampire closed his eyes for a second, and a second person approached the bound assassin. This one Dekaras recognized as one of the Shadow Thieves he had frequently seen in the Docks District. A short, rather skinny young man, with a narrow face and small eyes. _Rat…is that what he’s called? No. Weasel. The Weasel, that’s it._

The young thief stood mutely at the vampire’s side, his beady eyes glassy and distant. If he wondered at the scene before him, he didn’t show it. Then, his head turned towards the vampire, his eyes moved for a few seconds, and he nodded, before going to work on the lock that secured the chains. “It is good that Bodhi’s chambers are on the other side of the complex,” the vampire mused. “We will just about have time enough. And even better that I found this creature in among the ones she is having shipped off. He may not look like much, but he knows about locks.” 

Dekaras didn’t reply to this. For one thing, the pain was still great enough that it was hard to think straight. For another, the whole situation was so bizarre that he wasn’t quite sure what to say. _I have no idea what that vampire wants with me, but I doubt it is anything I would enjoy. Still…it can’t very well be worse than remaining here._

It didn’t take the thief all that long to open the lock, and the half-comatose assassin could feel the chains being pushed aside, allowing him to finally draw deep enough breaths that he didn’t feel as if he would choke. It hurt to breathe properly, but it was far, far better than the alternative. Tentatively, he tried to move his arms and legs. They didn’t obey properly, feeling stiff and cramped, but at least he could feel them. 

The vampire nodded briefly. “Good,” he said, still in that disinterested voice. “And now we must go. Since I doubt you can walk properly, this one will carry you.” 

_Carry me? I doubt that – I may not be a heavy weight as such, but that fellow doesn’t look strong enough to carry as much as a child._

He didn’t protest though. Arguing with somebody prepared to get him out of this place, no matter what the reason was for it, wasn’t really something he was prepared to do. To his amazement, the thief actually did manage to load him onto his back, even if it was with considerable difficulty and there was the worrying sound of creaking vertebrae afterwards, coupled with a grunt of pain. Under other circumstances he would perhaps have felt sorry for the man, but right now he was distracted by the bolt of burning hellfire that shot through his body as he was moved, forcing him to choke back a gasp of agony. Whatever it was exactly that Aerie had done to him, she had only healed parts of it, he could tell that much. It was more than pain, he could feel his body faltering, struggling to remain alive but really wanting to give up. “The vampires…outside…” he breathed. “How…” 

“They will not bother us,” the vampire’s cool voice replied. They were moving down a corridor now, one sloping gently downwards. Out of the corner of his eye, Dekaras could just glimpse the murals on the wall, ones of dancing dog-headed deities, he thought it was. Of course, hanging upside down like a sack of potatoes it was a bit difficult to tell for sure. “Where we go, they know not how to follow.” He paused before one of the murals, pressing the glaring red eye of one of the dog-men, and a door silently swung inwards. Behind it was another tunnel, this one far narrower and very dark. The vampire stepped inside, never looking back, and motioned for his servant to follow. 

_One good thing about all this_ , Dekaras absently thought. _Whether I live or die down here, the fact that I went missing is going to drive that Avariel up the wall._

And so, he was carried into the darkness ahead, and behind him the door slammed shut. 

_An indeterminate amount of time later…_

“I am going to make you a suggestion,” the vampire said, his voice cool and thoughtful. “I could make it a command, but I suspect I might damage your mind if I tried to enforce it, and I wouldn’t want that. So, a suggestion it is.” 

Dekaras looked up into the pale face floating above him, wondering once again why the creature had bothered rescuing him. _Not out of charity. He wants something. The question is, is it something I can agree to?_ His mind still felt…fuzzy. Probably it was because of the recent torture. After all, he was still about as weak as a newborn kitten, unable to stand, barely able to even keep his eyes open. _And it is getting worse again, not better._ Aerie had partially healed him, so that he might better withstand her torture, but there was still plenty of damage left inside of him. That dull throb in his stomach…the jagged pain every time he drew breath, and the taste of blood in his mouth every time he coughed, they were constant reminders. _Internal bleeding, and enough that it will kill me in not too long._ And he was cold…so very cold. Freezing, really, but too weak and weary to even manage to shiver. 

“If you will hear me out, I will try to make certain that you live,” the vampire went on. His eyes were a pale green, like glass. Almost transparent, they were. “If not, I might as well let you die.” 

_Oh, let me think about that. My, my, whatever should I choose? Death, or listening to a suggestion I don’t have to accept? True, if I deny him, he might kill me anyway…but somehow I don’t think so._ “What…do you want?” the assassin breathed, inwardly wincing at how weak his voice sounded. The cold and damp air around him didn’t help either. He had passed out for a while as he was brought here, wherever here was, but he was definitely still underground. Stone walls, a rather small and bare room. No sign of that Shadow Thief who had helped bring him here. _Maybe the vampire wanted a snack._ The cold was making him feel numb, as if he were half a corpse already. It also made him acutely aware of the fact that he was still in urgent need of some clothes, assuming he was going to live of course. Preferably his own clothes, come to think of it. 

“I will not tell you,” the vampire said, placing a cool hand on either side of the prone man’s head. “Instead, I will show you.” 

It occurred to Dekaras then that perhaps he had just made a very bad mistake. He didn’t have the time to protest though, or even to think about it. Images rushed into his head, spinning past at a maddening speed, breaking past all mental defenses until there were no hiding places left. _No…stay out! Keep away!_ There was no actual malice involved, that was the worst. That somebody would do this, would invade his mind so casually, despite his best efforts to resist. 

The pictures kept coming, explaining what the vampire wanted, and offering suggestions and alternatives, showing the different choices to be made. They were storming through his head, leaving only the smallest sense of self huddled against the wall of his mind, barely clinging to sanity. Far in the distance, he could hear himself scream, although it sounded muffled and choked. The tiny part of him that could still form coherent thoughts wondered just how enraged Aerie would have been at learning that the vampire had succeeded where she had failed. 

-*-

Yoshimo hadn’t slept much that night. For a miracle, it seemed that both Bodhi and her Avariel ally had believed him to have been duped, and hadn’t suspected him of actually being an accomplice in the failed break-in. _Not surprising. Was I not a dupe of Bodhi and her brother from the start? It must seem natural that I could be tricked into being the tool of another._

The bounty hunter sighed, and once again stared out the window of the small second-story room he was currently renting. It was more or less a hovel, really. The damp night air crept in through the cracks in the walls, the bed was a lumpy straw mattress, and its only redeeming feature was that there didn’t seem to be very many bugs. They must all have starved to death. 

Beneath him, the ‘Golden Avenue’ wound in serpentine coils between the surrounding dingy houses. A very glorious name it was for a narrow and grimy little back alley, and Yoshimo had been amused to learn that the reason for it was that the leatherworkers, with their tubs of urine for curing leather, had formerly kept their shops along it. Now, they had been mostly supplanted by thieves, courtesans, and such people too poor and desperate to find more respectable company. The faint dawn light didn’t manage to do much to improve it, but that wasn’t the point. 

_The day has come. If I am to do something to aid him, it must be now, while the vampires sleep._ Yoshimo gave a small frown as he thought about this. The events of the disastrous outing were troubling him, in more than one way. He had started to grow to like his companion, quite apart from him being a valuable ally. And now, this. _I knew he was going under a false name, of course. But this…how could he possibly tolerate helping me now, given who he is? Given the Geas I am under?_

But no. That wasn’t the real issue, not at all. If his…colleague…lived, he would at least be able to talk to him, perhaps they could come to an agreement after all, now they both knew the truth about the other. _If he lives._

Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be a likely prospect, right now. While Yoshimo wasn’t intimately familiar with the Avariel priestess, not in the way ‘Mordo’ was, what he had seen of her suggested that she could easily match Bodhi when it came to cruelty. And with both of them involved, well, that seemed to spell certain doom. If not one of them, then the other. Yoshimo sighed, frowning to himself. _And he cannot even take the honorable way out. Could I help him with that, at least? Even if I cannot help him otherwise?_ It was something to consider, although he had a dark suspicion that it would probably already be too late for his fellow rogue. 

There was a knock on the door, and the bounty hunter startled a little, half expecting it to be Bodhi herself, come to punish him for his treason. Or Aerie – it was getting light out after all. “Who is it, please?” he called out, even as his hand slid towards the hilt of his katana. To his surprise, the voice that replied was that of a small child. A girl, he thought. 

“Got a message for ya, sir,” it said. “I’ll just slide it under the door, shall I?” A small white square of paper was pushed under the door, and there was a patter of small feet disappearing down the stairs. Yoshimo delicately reached a foot out, pulling the note closer. He didn’t want to stand too close to the door, just in case. However, nothing happened, and after a few minutes had passed with no further incidence he felt reassured that it wasn’t an ambush. He picked the letter up, unfolded it, and read it, cursing under his breath as he did so. 

_I have your friendHe is still alive but will probably not be so for much longer. If you wish to help him, you will come to the place described in this letter and bring healing potions along. You will be granted safe passage, as long as you come alone._

Then followed instructions about how he should descend into a certain part of the Athkatla sewers, and where to go from there. Yoshimo read the letter through once more, to make certain he had missed nothing. No explanation. No name of the writer. It could easily be a trap. However…

_…will probably not be so for much longer._

“So,” Yoshimo murmured to himself. “That is how it is. But no matter how crippled the honor of Yoshimo has become, there are limits. I will not abandon him.” Quickly, he gathered his weapons together. Time to go shopping for some healing potions, and then to take a little walk in the sewers. 

He had been directed to choose one of the manholes in the Temple District, one that was situated behind the Temple of Talos, and did so, then continued to follow the directions of the letter. He had of course taken care not to be spotted as he descended into the sewers. The last thing he wanted was for one of Bodhi’s minions to spot him and start asking awkward questions. 

The air of the sewers was heavy with the stench of human waste, and the water flowing past the narrow stone walkway that Yoshimo was following had a nasty color indeed. Here and there, faint light trickled down through one of the gratings in the ceiling and made it possible to avoid falling into the muck. Interestingly enough, all seemed peaceful and quiet. At one point, he saw a goblin skittering around a corner, and the little green creature just gave a small squeak and scurried off. Another time, he saw a large green slime lazily propelling itself through the wastewater, reminding him a little of the froth that might form on top of a stagnant pond. Apart from that, no sign of life. And yet…he could feel something. There was the faint sense of being watched, even though he couldn’t see or hear anybody. 

Eventually, he reached his goal, a small wooden door at the end of a tunnel so narrow he almost had to walk sideways through it. Bracing himself, he prepared himself to knock on it as he had been bid. The unpleasant thought occurred to him that this all reminded him of a certain child’s tale he had been told when little. It had been Tamoko who shared it with him, and he hadn’t slept well for a week afterwards, as he recalled. _Come into my house, said the wicked fox to the children. Come inside, and all your wishes will be granted – for a price. And they did step inside, and when they came out, the curse was upon them._

However…he was already under a curse. One more would make little difference. Yoshimo knocked on the door, thinking himself prepared for anything. What he hadn’t been prepared for was the creature that opened it to greet him. 

The vampire was tall, taller than any he had seen so far. Taller than most humans, in fact, and thinner. There were deep hollows in its pale cheeks, and its green eyes were sunken in and shadowed. And there was something else as well. Yoshimo had seen more vampires in the past year than he had ever wished for, and though they could vary a great deal in appearance, this one was somehow different from them all. It wasn’t its looks, or at least not just that. Rather it was in the way it watched him. Vampires, even the most mindless of subordinate fledglings or the most outwardly controlled of masters, always had a sense of hunger about them, that made you aware of how they wanted to leap on you and drink your blood. But not this one. It just eyed him coldly, almost indifferently. Whatever it might want from him, it wasn’t blood. 

“Enter,” The vampire said, stepping aside from the door. “And you’d better hurry, he doesn’t have long.” 

Yoshimo was tempted, very tempted, to turn and run, run far away from this strange vampire who was like no vampire he had ever known. But instead, he moved past it, acutely aware of the cold, oddly salty smell that surrounded it, and the faint rustle of the plain black robes it was wearing. 

The room was small enough, and he at once spotted the wounded man lying unconscious on a plain mattress. The assassin’s eyes were closed, and his breathing heavy and labored. Even worse, his skin was an unhealthy gray color and his lips and fingers were practically blue. “He’s freezing!” Yoshimo exclaimed, even as he hurried over to kneel beside his companion. “Have you no sense, to keep him like this? He needs blankets, or clothing, anything to keep him warm or he will die.” 

For a second, he half expected the vampire to rip his throat out for his audacity, but it simply looked at him blankly for a few seconds, then shrugged. “Oh,” it said. “Yes. Humans need that, of course. I had his things brought here as I brought him but had forgotten about them. They are in the corner over there.”

Yoshimo looked, and yes, there was a dark pile of clothes lying in the corner. Well and good. But first, healing. He wrenched the cork out of one of the bottles he had brought, pulled the unconscious man into a half-sitting position and managed to force his lips open, then trickled some of the fluid into his mouth, hoping he wouldn’t choke on it. The assassin swallowed, coughed some, then swallowed another mouthful, before Yoshimo had to stop to let him draw breath. He shivered, then his eyes opened, and he looked back at the bounty hunter. 

“Yoshimo?” he asked, his voice a little slurred with exhaustion. 

“Yes, my friend, it is I. What has this fiend been doing to you?” 

He looked uncomprehending at first, then followed the bounty hunter’s gaze to where the vampire stood silently against one wall. “I’ve never seen him before…in my life,” he whispered. “Have I…been missing something?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably consider myself lucky that Dekkie can't very well kill me over all the things I put him through, given that he'd effectively wipe himself out at the same time. :)


	130. Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better

**Cards Reshuffled 130 – Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better**

_Some things are just part of nature. Dogs bark, cows moo, squirrels gather nuts. And cats like to play with small and loudly squeaking creatures. Encouraging a cat’s playful side can be a very fatal mistake to make._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“You used a _what_ in bed?”

“A Time Stop spell,” Nalia cheerfully said, her cheeks flushing just a little bit as she gave Xzar a tender smile. “Well, a modified version if it, we’ve been doing some experiments. You know how they say time stands still at certain times?”

“Well, yes,” Zaerini agreed as she tried to grasp the concept. This wasn’t made easier by the fact that Isaea had swum right up to the wall of his fishbowl and was sticking his tongue out. “I just never thought they meant it literally.” 

“It is an interesting idea though, my Hellkitten,” Edwin mused, stroking his beard. “Imagine if we were to stop time at a certain moment and keep it lasting for a few minutes?” 

_You should listen to him, kittenYou like your matings as it is maybe but imagine what that would be like._

_Well…it is an interesting idea._

“Enough of this!” Valygar spat. “I heard a scream, I tell you, a terrible scream, and that had nothing to do with pleasure. What was going on?” The ranger was still wearing his nightshirt, as he had ever since he dragged her here, and by default Edwin along with her, screaming bloody murder. Fortunately, the others still seemed to be asleep, and she hoped they would remain that way. A small muscle in his right cheek twitched now and then – and was that little purple sparks shooting off his braids as he moved? 

Xzar giggled. “The spell brought us a big surprise, bigger even than those of Yasso the Vile, the Tentacled Lord of Adult Diapers!”

“That’s right,” Nalia said, squeezing his hand. “We just got a bit startled, that’s all.” 

“Well, what was the surprise then?” Rini asked. 

“You want to see?” Xzar beamed happily at her and giggled again. “Oh joy, oh splendiferous bundles of twin joy! Monty? MONTY! Bring them in, bring them right in!” 

“Yeah, yeah, ye daft wizard!” a gruff voice called out from outside the door. “Them little pests be getting’ a knife in the gullet soon if they don’t shut up and behave, and that’s a promise, hear?” The door was violently kicked open, and in strode Montaron the halfling, his face reminding Rini quite a bit of a storm cloud. The little thief had clearly also just been roused out of bed, for he was wearing a ragged old dressing gown that was stained with grease, smoke and what seemed to be blood. That wasn’t the oddest thing about his appearance though. For some reason, his head had been shaved so that he was entirely bald and been polished until it gleamed. “Look at me!” he bellowed. “Look at what those little hellspawn been doin’ to me! Sneakin’ into me bedroom without me noticin’ and doin’ this, it’s enough to bring tears to me eyes!” 

And now there were two high-pitched giggles behind him, followed by excited whoops of joy.

“Uncle Monty! Uncle Monty!” 

“We did bad, right Uncle Monty? Really bad?”

Xzar clapped his hands. “And here they are, our two gloriously depraved and evil little sprouts, the most darling decadent children ever – Uktar and Doomsday!”

The children stepped out behind Montaron, holding hands. The girl was the shorter of the pair, strawberry blond and chubby. She was wearing an unfortunate striped black and white dress, which made her look even chubbier. The boy was a little taller, with brown hair a little darker than Xzar’s, a pale and narrow face and a very serious expression. “Mother?” he asked. “May I please show Doomsday how to play Executioner and Condemned Prisoner?”

Nalia smiled beatifically. “Have you both brushed your teeth?”

“Yes Mother.” 

“Filed them too?”

“Yes Mother.”

“All right. But make certain you use only the sharp axe. Hangings are for commoners after all, we need to maintain certain standards.”

“Yay!” the children shouted, and then they rushed out of the room. 

“Sooo…” Zaerini said after a minute or so had passed. “That Time Stop spell you modified…”

“Had a most peculiar effect on time itself,” Nalia said. “Uktar and Doomsday are definitely our children, I remember everything about birthing and raising them. Only it hasn’t actually happened yet. Try not to think too hard about it, then it makes more sense.” She frowned. “Of course, this does mean we need to hurry up with our wedding plans, anything other would be very improper.” 

The half-elf turned to look at her lover. “Still want to try that spell?” 

Edwin startled, then paled a little. “Ah…no. No, I…I think that I will pass on that, for now. Children…all well and good I mean, but natural process far more…er…” By now he was blushing, and she couldn’t resist planting a quick kiss on his cheek. 

“It’s all right,” she reassured him. “I agree. Well, Valygar, I hope you’re happy now? Nothing sinister going on, everybody happy, right?” She looked around. “Valygar?”

The ranger was sitting very still, his hands folded in his lap, and his back rigidly straight. He was staring in front of himself, at nothing in particular. “Can we go to Athkatla now?” he asked, and his voice was calm. Too calm. 

“Um…sure. Soon as it’s light out. Are you all right?”

“Yes. Let us…just go. Please?”

“Right, fine. We’re going. And we’ll be heading for your Sphere first thing we get there; I just need to stop by the theatre first.”

Valygar’s eyes glinted a little. “Theatre?”

“Yes. Theatre. The place I told you about, remember?”

“Only theatre? No wizards?”

“No, no, no wizards. I promise.”

“Everybody sane there?”

“I guess so.”

Valygar sighed deeply and relaxed just a little bit. “Good. Need…some peace and quiet.” 

-*-

“AAAAHHH! Disaster, disaster! My patron, it is so fortunate that you have arrived at this time, you simply must do something to rescue us from impending doom!” 

Zaerini gasped for breath and tried to disengage the excitable Higgold’s hands from her collar. She was eventually spared the trouble, since Minsc gently but firmly picked the man up and put him down at the other side of the room. “No grabbing little Rini!” the big ranger admonished, wagging his finger at the theatre director. “Minsc don’t want his witch to be all choked up and squelched like poor Boo is after naughty Jan gets to him.”

“I do not!” Jan protested. “Why, I am ever so careful with that little hamster, he might as well be my own dear baby. Here, hand him over and I’ll show you.” 

“No! You’ll try to steal him again. Bad Jan!” 

“Can we just go inside for a bit, Higgold?” Zaerini suggested. The director had more or less ambushed her on the threshold of the Five Flagons, and already a large crowd was gathering to watch the spectacle. Then you can tell me what’s this all about, all right?” She thought it was probably a good thing that Edwin, Valygar, Jaheira and Anomen had gone off to get supplies – Edwin would have been just as upset as Minsc, and more likely to cause an outright fight. 

A few minutes later, she and her companions had seated themselves in the comfortable chairs of the theatre and were watching Higgold nervously pace back and forth on the stage. “It’s the tiefling,” he said. “He…he…” And here he broke into tears, sobbing helplessly against a fake castle wall. 

“He wants to do rewrites of the script,” a cool female voice explained, as Viconia stepped out on the stage. “I have let him do some, but he wants more, and it makes the other actors unhappy. Since I assumed you didn’t want me to flog them into submission, I thought you should be consulted before he’s allowed to rewrite anything else.”

“Hm…all right, I guess. Let’s hear what he has to say for himself.” 

Haer’Dalis, once he appeared, seemed entirely relaxed and even amused by all the commotion. “You see, my Raven,” he explained, “I realized that while the Thurmish play is of course an excellent play, there is always room for new interpretations, especially given how old it is. Take the relationship between Veldrin and Karenina for example, there can definitely be more passion there, more…zest. And both their characters can be more developed, it really wouldn’t take all that many changes to turn an excellent play into an unsurpassed one.” 

“But there have to be limits!” interrupted Rose, the attractive leading lady. “You cannot keep rewriting our lines all the time, or this play will never make it to its final rehearsal.” 

“And…and…one simply cannot make c-changes to the Sorcerer’s Bane!” Higgold said. “Altering the lines? The very lines of the very characters? Altering how…how…how the audience perceives the characters! Why, that is totally unheard of!”

“If it’s unheard of, then at least we won’t be boring the audience, now will we,” Rini said, shrugging. “It’s a play Higgold, not some god’s sacred writings. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t be surprised if those are rewritten now and then as well. But Rose has a point, making some changes is fine by me as long as they’re good ones, but at some point, we must decide on a final script.” She thought about this for a moment. “Tell you what, Haery,” she said. “Why don’t you and I sit down and take a look at what you’ve written. I’ll probably want to write some stuff in myself, now that I think about it. We’ll come up with a final version that hopefully everybody will be happy with, and then we stick with it. All right?”

Haer’Dalis nodded. “Of course, dear Raven. I’m certain we can make this play a wonderful one, just wait until I’ve shown you all my ideas.”

“It sounds good,” Rose said. “I really don’t want to make any trouble, so as long as there will be a decent version of the script I can settle down with, I won’t fuss.” 

The other actors murmured their agreement as well, and Zaerini gave a small sigh, relieved that this little mess was almost dealt with. And then, there was a voice. A loud, obnoxious and arrogant voice, and one that was all too familiar. 

“You sadly misguided fools!” it said. “This play will become the flop it justly deserves to be. What nonsense is this I hear? What this play needs, the only thing that could possibly save it from utter ruin, is a genius of a script writer, preferably one to offer the all-important halfling perspective. And aren’t you all lucky, because it just so happens that I have one in mind.” 

“Oh no!” Rose groaned. “Not him again. Not…Ashley Parsley.” 

“Yes, it is I!” Ashley Parsley triumphantly stated as he strode up to the group. “Come to drag you miserable amateurs out of the swamp of incompetence you wallow in, and to let you find succor in the fruits of my loins…er…of my genius, of course.” The runty halfling was wearing his customary sneer, and also a very odd-looking tunic. It was rather large and baggy, easily reached his knees and had short sleeves. On the front of it was a magically enchanted picture of Ashley’s face, and its eyes tended to roam around the room in a very disconcerting way. Above that picture, hot pink letters flashed on and off in the legend ‘Supreme Stage Sage’. 

“What…is that?” Zaerini asked, unable to take her eyes off the hideous thing. Once again, Ashley mistook revulsion for admiration. 

“Ha! Figures that mere amateurs wouldn’t have given any thought to merchandising and marketing,” he said, upper lip curling contemptuously. “Why, you’re probably wasting all your precious time on things like…like…”

“Like writing, directing and playacting?” the half-elf sweetly replied. 

“Like sycophancy!” Ashley scoffed. “Getting on with people! Having what you no doubt think of as ‘fun’. Making…ew…’friends’. Who needs them anyway? As if the theatre is a place for that! Friends – ha!”

“He does use that word a lot, doesn’t he?” Jan remarked. “It kind of reminds me of my very distant cousin Miffo Jansen, who was a bit funny in the head ever since a griffin fell on him. Suddenly he’d just walk up to somebody and scream the word supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!’ in their ear. Made a few people deaf that way, but he was pretty well liked about town despite the drooling and giggling, because at least he was trying to be nice.”

“See!” Ashley yelled, spittle flying from his mouth. “SEE! That’s EXACTLY what I mean! Sycophants, all of them! What you need, what you really need, is for me to take you under my wing and teach you how these things should be done! To instill your work with all the essentialities, loincloths, barbarians, epileptic gibbering high priests and opaque-nosed wenches in tiny golden bikinis!” He sniffed. “Or maybe you think you’re above such things? Maybe you think you don’t owe it to the sheep…er…adoring public…to rise above your lowly efforts and reach the heady heights of Apprentice Stage Sagery?” 

Zaerini looked at him for a few seconds as she digested this. “Ashley,” she then said. “Nobody around here likes you. At all. Now get out of here and stop annoying me, unless you want to make me really mad.” 

For a few seconds, Ashley Parsley’s face took on a blank look of incomprehension. Then he shrugged and went on as if he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. “Anyway,” he said, “you, being a mere amateur…”

”As opposed to being a professional idiot…” Viconia murmured. 

“…cannot possibly hope to compete with my rare and dazzling genius, and my works of high drama and tenderly tasteful passion.” 

Here, Rose snickered loudly.

“Not to mention my keen and thrusting insight into the mysteries of the feminine mind!”

By now, Rose was rolling on the floor, howling with laughter as she pounded the ground with her fists. 

Rini had had about enough though. “Ashley, get out,” she said. “Or I’ll have Minsc show you the door, if you’d prefer that.” 

“Minsc will apply carefully measured boots to halfling backside, whenever little Rini says,” the large man rumbled. 

“Away with you, you blubbering Rashemite man-slut!” Ashley hissed. “The Stage Sage fears no one! I am telling you now, half-elf, and telling you truly – anything you can do, I can do better. And I will prove it to you. Just come across the street to Parsley Place, and you will see a real master at work.” 

“’Parsley Place’ is it?” Zaerini asked, smiling in a way that should have had alarm bells ringing in Ashley’s head. Sadly for him, he didn’t notice. “You know, I think I might. I could do with a good laugh.” 

Parsley Place, Ashley Parsley’s own theatre, was about twice as big as the theatre at the Five Flagons and built in what had apparently once been an old bank. There was a lot of white marble about still, and the copper roof gleamed in the sun. The most striking thing about the place was on top of the roof though. A gigantic floating head spun on top of the roof, so that it could overlook the entire Bridge District and miss nothing. Ashley Parsley was no beauty in person, but his face bloated up to twenty times its natural size was downright scary. Below, there were more glowing magical letters, each one as tall as a man. They announced that this was ‘Parsley Place – Home Of The Stage Sage’, and a set of smaller letters told the world that here you might soon view ‘The Passion Of Gruntir, A Saga Supreme Of Adventure And Romance’. 

“I feel ill,” Viconia said, grinding her teeth. “That male, if one can call him that, deserves to have all his appendages bitten off by rabid _rothe_ for subjecting me to this tasteless display.”

“We won’t stay that long, I’m sure,” Rini whispered. “But I’m curious about this, and it can’t hurt to check the place out, especially if he’s as determined to pick fights as he seems to be.”

“True, but I would prefer to do it while blindfolded. I fear my retinas may burn out more times than I am able to heal them in one day.” 

“Just be brave, Viccy,” Jan encouraged her. “Think of it as a noble sacrifice or something.”

“I’d rather sacrifice the halfling. Although I’ll settle for gnome in a pinch…” 

The first thing they noticed as they passed inside the theatre was the large gift shop right next to the ticket booth. A bored-looking teenage clerk dwelt there, amidst a jungle of the baggy tunics. Rini looked through some of them, and apart from the version she had already seen she found such gems as ‘Popular Parsley!’, ‘Passionate Amazing Riveting Sexy Legendary Excellent Youthful’, ‘I Lurv Stage Sage’, and one very clearly feminine and tight model that proclaimed the wearer to be a ‘Theatre Tootsie’. Then there were the coffee mugs, the towels, the badges, umbrellas and corsets, all of them spelling out ‘Stage Sage’ or some variation on this theme. Possibly the strangest item of all was a large pile of colorful cereal boxes, said to contain ‘Succulent Stage Sage Cereal’ that was supposedly ‘Good Enough to Eat’. It was hideously obvious from the magical pictures painted on the boxes that every single piece of cereal had been made to resemble a little Ashley head. 

“Yummy, eh?” the halfling said. His eyes took on a slightly glassy look. “Can’t you just imagine it…those delicious tidbits being rolled around inside a delicately feminine mouth…pushed here and there by her velvety smooth tongue…so pink…so soft…so moist…”

“Yeah,” Rini said, gulping as she put a hand before her mouth. “I can, actually.” 

Finally, she came to a halt in front of a shelf with dolls, all of which were miniature versions of Ashley Parsley. 

Jan picked one of them up and squeezed it, and it immediately squeaked out ‘You suck!’. 

“Ah, nothing like honesty!” Parsley proudly proclaimed. “They also say, ‘Rub me’, ‘Worship me’, ‘I want my socks’ and ‘Ashley for Emperor’ among many other things. I call them ‘Mini Ashleys’, and I expect them to be a great hit, not that you would recognize a business opportunity if it came up and bit you on the bum, I’m sure. Anatomically correct they are too, with full and strapping halflinghoods on the lot of them. Anyway, moving on, moving on, it’s time you got a look at what a proper play should be…” 

“Now can we kill him?” Viconia said in a calm whisper. 

“Nah,” Zaerini replied, winking at her. “He’s a pompous pain, but in a way he’s rather funny. I want to see this.”

The Drow sighed loudly and despondently. 

“Minsc does not understand, what is a ‘halflinghood’?” the big ranger asked, frowning with bafflement. “Is it a special hat for halflings?”

“You know, addled one, that is actually an excellent idea!” Viconia said, looking far more cheerful. “You see, all you would need to do is use a good skinning knife and then stretch it like…”

“Yes, yes,” Rini said, “but honestly, who’d want to wear it? Now come on.”

She followed Parsley into the theatre proper, briefly distracted by the voice of her familiar. 

_You go ahead, kitten_ , Softpaws said, sounding very smug. _I’d like to stay here and play for a bit._

The half-elf turned around and saw that the cat had toppled one of the anatomically correct dolls off its shelf and pounced on it. There was a ripping sound, and Softpaws started chasing a rolling round object across the floor, carefully out of sight of the sales-teen. 

_Have fun_ , she approved. _Now hurry up…don’t let it get…er…ahead of you._

The auditorium was fairly big, and refreshingly neat and clean. Somewhat less refreshing were the large portraits of Ashley Parsley that hung from each of the boxes, but Zaerini found that it was possible to avoid looking at those if you concentrated really hard. On the wide stage, in front of a set portraying a crowded inn, there were two people. One was a young woman, dressed in a rather skimpy blouse and a torn skirt. She was chewing idly on a lock of silver-blonde hair, looking very bored. The other was a very large human man, wearing only a furry loincloth. Zaerini tried not to stare, but there was something utterly fascinating about how all those muscles rippled back and forth at his slightest motion. Viconia was grinning openly. The man had bright red hair plaited into braids, and wore a large wooden sword strapped to his back. Behind him there was a large barrel. He was also holding up a pineapple, gazing mournfully at it. 

“To be…or not to be…that is the…”

“What in the Nine Hells are you doing?!” Ashley Parsley screamed and stormed onto the stage as fast as his short legs could carry him. “What is that garbage you’re saying?”

“But…but…but it’s from the Prince of Tethyr!” the big man stammered. He timidly held the pineapple close to his chest. “It’s quite a good play too, a masterpiece and I just thought…”

“You _thought_? I don’t employ you to think! That play is garbage, I say it, and therefore it is so. You have your lines, now say them.” 

“Yes sir,” the actor sighed, and then he cleared his throat, turning to the girl. An expression of pain crossed his face. “You and me…make love well, wench?”

“No!” Ashley shouted. “No, no, no! Where’s the barbarian passion of Gruntir, I ask you? You’re supposed to be Gruntir, Barbarian King of the halfli…er…of the Accordions! You love this girl, you’ve only just met her and want to impress her, you want to court her, please her, squeeze her, right? Now grab her hand and force it against your groin while you rub yourself against her leg and admire her glistening organs of sight and puffy passion pillows.”

“But sir!”

“Are you questioning my expertise in how to win a young woman over? She’ll swoon and sigh bustily, I tell you! I’m the one writing her lines after all. I know the feminine mind and I know what they want. You’ve got a Magic Stick, she doesn’t, so she wants it. Go on, say your next line.”

The actor once again looked deeply pained. “Yes, sir, Mr Parsley, sir.” He cleared his throat, thrust his chest out, and addressed the girl in front of him. “You be one fine and lusty piece of totty, wench.” He grasped her hand, and reluctantly pressed it against him. “Bodacious Carmina, you…make this proud Accordion feel like the hottest piece of yummy toast, ready to burn your…er…undulating love-flesh.” He closed his eyes briefly, and then went on. “There be a barrel of Barbarian Butter right here – go on, baby, and butter the barbarian up.” 

At this, Ashley sighed blissfully, a wide smile on his lips. The girl playing Carmina looked a bit more skeptical. “Sounds awfully sticky,” she told her employer. “I don’t like getting sticky. Can’t recall it being in my contract that I should get sticky. I’ll want to clean off afterwards.”

For a moment, the halfling looked annoyed, but then he nodded. “Not a bad idea,” he generously said. “I see you have paid attention. Directly after the butter scene we’ll have you both ambushed by the evil eunuch servants of the blubbering High Priest and taken into the Temple of Terror. The very first thing Carmina does after escaping will be to strip naked and jump into the magical pool in the middle of the courtyard. Gruntir will come upon her and join her, maddened by his passion that cannot be resisted!” 

The actor blushed. “What, on stage, sir?”

“Of course on stage! And when you’re in there, I want you to pretend to be a rubber duck.” Ashley’s face was getting shiny with sweat now, and his eyes were slightly unfocused. “A rubber duck…with its bum…tilting upwards as it dives for food and is weighted down by its…its enormous bill…yeah…rubber duck…” He blinked, and then seemed to come back to himself. “Come to think of it, you’re too ugly,” he told the actor. He grinned and started tearing his tunic off displaying a rather scrawny torso. “Here, from now on you’ll wear this over your head whenever you’re on stage. We’ll cut eyeholes out for you; I suppose. And finally, finally Gruntir will be as handsome as he deserves to be! Also, you will make your voice higher pitched, like mine. The girls in the audience will love that. Yeah…girls…”

“So,” Zaerini asked, “if it’s going to be your face and voice anyway, why don’t you just act out the part? I bet you’d really love that.”

“You ignorant amateur! I would, I am the most marvelous actor in the world and my singing voice is to die for, but I owe it to my beloved audience not to divide my genius too much.”

“Yeah…of course.” The half-elf grinned. “Plus, you’re a bit short for the part of barbarian hero, right?”

“I AM NOT SHORT! I AM A PERFECTLY PROPORTIONED HALFLING; EXCEPT FOR MY DUCK’S BILL, WHICH IS HUGE! HUGE, I TELL YOU!” 

“Uh huh. Whatever. I think we’ve seen enough of this now. The ‘duck’s bill’ I prefer to pass on.”

“Well, are you suitably impressed and ready to come to your senses and devour the supreme wisdom of the Stage Sage?”

“She could learn more about acting from that pineapple,” Viconia snorted. “To quote what you said before – anything you can do, she can do better.” 

“Which wouldn’t be that hard, really,” Rini said, shrugging. “I’d stick with selling cereal and ugly dollies, if I were you.” 

“Then this means WAR!”

“Didn’t you already say something along those lines?”

Ashley stamped his feet, his face an angry red. “Don’t care! Don’t care! I wanted to give you a final chance, out of the kindness of my heart, and you’re just being mean to me! Well, I’ve had it! That play of yours will never see its opening day; you have the word of the Stage Sage on that!”

Zaerini didn’t reply at once, and she gestured for her friends to do the same. Then, when she was almost out the door, she called out. “Oh Ashley…your ‘duck’s bill’ is hanging out. Want a pair of tweezers to put it back in your pants?” 

The horrified scream of rage that followed brightened all the rest of that day for her.


	131. No Skin Off My Rose

**Cards Reshuffled 131 – No Skin Off My Rose**

_Surprisingly often, the skills of a rogue can be used to assist officers of the law. Not at all surprisingly, many officers of the law realize this, and take full if unofficial advantage of the fact. Personally, I have no objections to doing a policeman’s job, not as long as they do not expect me to do it on a policeman’s salary._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘HE ESCAPED’?!” Bodhi’s eyes had taken on a dull red gleam, her fangs were bared and her face twisted into a mask of rage. 

“You heard me the first time,” Aerie replied, her voice cool. Inwardly though, she was seething. “When I returned, having been unable to find you anywhere and having learnt that you were instead out shopping for more of those…unique…outfits of yours, he was gone. Missing. Disappeared.” 

The vampire’s fangs actually seemed to extend even more as she digested this, and she was fairly quivering with fury to the point where she seemed about to pop out of her peculiar leather-strap outfit. _Which I wouldn’t mind_ , Aerie thought. _It might fluster her enough that I could further press my advantage._

“How could he disappear?” Bodhi hissed, glaring directly into the Avariel’s face. “Have you truly become the simpering little ninny that you are so fond of pretending to be, that you could be so easily tricked?” 

“Strange,” Aerie said in her sweetest, most innocent voice. “And here I thought you had told me that you had…what was it again…’absolute and complete control’ over your vampire servants. Yes, I must have been very silly indeed to have believed that, and trusted that one of them would indeed be your loyal servant rather than a treacherous renegade who had entirely slipped past you.” 

The vampire’s eyes narrowed, and she took a step closer, raising her hand to gently touch the other woman’s cheek. Aerie didn’t flinch – Bodhi was a powerful vampire, and she would prefer not to fight her, but if it came to that, then so be it, she would place her faith in her Goddess as she had always done. “Don’t play cute with me, little birdie,” Bodhi flatly said. “I can easily make you regret it. Now describe this vampire to me.” 

Aerie did, and Bodhi listened attentively, but with a puzzled look on her face. “I have no servant like that,” she said once the Avariel had finished. “He is not one of my fledglings.” 

“Then who is he?”

“I don’t know. A renegade of some kind, most likely. But the important thing is, he should never have been able to get in here without my Children noticing. The outer tunnels perhaps, but not here deep within the inner chambers. Vampires are very aware of other vampires, even more than of humans. I don’t like this at all.” 

Aerie pondered this for a moment, as she watched what lay before her. A large stone tomb, heavy iron chains still attached to it. There were some dark stains as well; blood that still hadn’t entirely dried. Of the prisoner who should have been there though, there was no sign. _Curse him._ “More importantly,” she said, “what does he want? Whatever it is, it cannot be good.” 

“No,” Bodhi agreed, smoothing back her short black curls as she also stared at the spilt blood. Idly, she traced a pale finger through it, then licked it clean. “Mmm…not bad. Dibs on getting first blood when we get him back.” She licked her lips. “And we will if he’s still alive. My Children will know to look for him now, and for this strange vampire as well.”

“And you will reinforce security here as well?”

A mock sweet smile. “Of course, darling. Whatever I can do to ease your fears. Want me to hold your hand as well?” 

Aerie chose to ignore the taunt. “My hands will be quite busy elsewhere,” she said. “And if you were planning to lick that blood up, you may forget all about that. I have a use for it, and you must not distract me.” A small smile curled her lips. “Scrying spells, after all, take some concentration.” 

-*-

“What do you mean, you ‘don’t remember’?” Yoshimo sounded both shocked and a little offended, something Dekaras hardly thought was fair. It wasn’t exactly as if he had made a conscious choice about all this, after all. 

“I told you already,” he wearily repeated, and leaned back against the pillows. Yoshimo had helped him get out from those stinking tunnels, more or less carried him back to his rooms, then sent for a cleric of the Ilmateri temple, sworn to secrecy. He was grateful for that. If it hadn’t been for Yoshimo, he knew he would most likely be dead by now. Still, he was quite exhausted, and didn’t really wish to even think too much about his ordeal just yet, far less discuss it. “I was in Bodhi’s lair, being tortured. That is the last thing I remember before waking up in the room where you found me, with that vampire. In-between, there is nothing. Absolutely nothing.” 

But he felt fine, at least now the cleric had seen to him. Weary, yes, terribly exhausted, but the healer had said that would pass in a day or two and was a natural reaction to such a complete healing. Apart from that, there seemed to be nothing wrong. So why couldn’t he remember? Was it the result of the trauma, a kind of shock? Or something else? Something worse? 

“Vampires can control people,” Yoshimo said, looking him straight in the eyes. “He could have done something along those lines, making you forget.”

“Yes, he could. But why? Just what would he want me to forget?” It wasn’t a comforting thought, not at all. _Suppose he did something to me? Something that is still there inside me, like a trap waiting to snap shut?_ “And why did he rescue me anyway, not to mention send for you to remove me from him?” _If it is a trap, then whom is it meant for?_ Zaerini. It had to be. Everybody was interested in her, after all. Not…no, not Edwin surely. He knew his child’s capacity for making enemies, but there had been no renegade vampires mentioned. Still, it wasn’t much of a comfort. As if he had never seen them before, he looked down at his own hands, resting on the blankets. Hands trained to kill, capable of doing so in an instant. An icy dread coiled around his heart as he contemplated the logical implications of his chain of thought. _If something were planted inside of me…I wouldn’t even know it, and I might not be able to fight it off. I could kill them, and not even know what I was doing until it was too late._ “I think,” he said, trying to coerce the flickering panic back inside the deepest hollows of his mind, “that I ought to see another healer. One used to dealing with mind damage.” 

The second cleric was another Ilmateri, an elderly man with a short white beard and very thick spectacles. “What I do is not mind reading as such,” he assured his patient. “I am no psionic, and you needn’t worry about me seeing your deepest secrets. The scan I will perform on you will simply reveal if your mind has been damaged or tampered with in any way.” 

Dekaras forced himself to try to relax. He didn’t like this, not at all, but he knew it was necessary. As instructed, he closed his eyes and lay perfectly still as the cleric went to work on him. It didn’t hurt, not at all, and there was no sense of horrible invasion, not like there had been when…

When what? For a second there he’d almost thought he’d remembered something, but now it was gone again. “Well?” he asked the cleric, sensing that the man had finished. 

“Peculiar…” the Ilmateri said, frowning. 

_Peculiar. That is never a good word coming from a healer._ “What is peculiar?” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “Did you find something?”

“Well, yes and no. Your mind hasn’t been recently damaged as such, and I can find no traces of tampering such as implanted commands. But there are anomalies. A small area is closed off, tied in on itself, and cannot be accessed. That would account for your memory loss. And there is some form of old injury, certainly severe enough…”

“But no implanted commands? You are quite sure of that?”

“Oh yes. What has been done is far too subtle for that. However, I fear I cannot undo it.”

“Why not?” Yoshimo suspiciously asked. “Have we not paid you enough?” 

“My dear sir!” the healer said, sounding deeply offended. “That is not the issue. The problem is that this…this blocked-off node resembles nothing I have ever seen before, despite my forty years in the field. It’s too intricate, and yet so simple. And there are safeguards. If I try to unravel them, I fear I may cause irrevocable damage.” 

“Then don’t,” Dekaras said. “Keeping my brain intact is something I care deeply about. As long as you are absolutely sure that I won’t suddenly be faced with an irresistible urge to tap-dance, go on a murderous rampage or pretend to be a dog.” 

“Oh no, sir. There are no such things in there, of that I am sure. Whoever did this simply didn’t want you to remember something he said or did.” 

“Well, this has to suffice,” the assassin wearily said once the healer had left. “And now, I believe we have other things to discuss, don’t we?”

Yoshimo nodded. “Yes, esteemed colleague. I believe that we do. What the Avariel said about you – it was true, yes?”

The assassin nodded, looking the other man straight in the eyes. “It was. And I now know whom exactly that Geas of yours is focused around, and how the wizard set things up from the beginning.” He paused. “I cannot allow her or her companions to come to harm, especially not my student. However, I still wish to help you.”

The Kara-Turan relaxed then, a minute shift in posture that was nevertheless obvious if you knew what to look for. “I am glad,” he simply said. “I had thought…”

“That I would kill you? I thought about it at first, I admit it. But I have had more time to think since then. You…haven’t been entirely free to make your own choices about this, after all. And also, I owe you a life debt now. I will do what I can to repay it. So…since I am under healer’s orders to stay in bed, why don’t we have a little talk about your Geas? I’ll need something to occupy my mind anyway.” 

By now Yoshimo was smiling. “You must understand,” he said, “that there are limits to what I am allowed to speak of. But there are also limits to how constrained I am. Ask me the right questions, and I will answer.”

Dekaras nodded, giving him a faint smile in return. “Guessing games – yes, that should keep me from getting too bored. But before we start, I would like to ask you to do something for me. You did bring my clothes and things along from that vampire’s lair, did you not? Good. Then please hand me my left boot, would you?” 

The bounty hunter raised an eyebrow quizzically, but he did as he had been asked without asking questions. “I knew there was a risk that she might capture me,” Dekaras absently said as he ran his long fingers around the folded down rim of the boot. “And although it seemed unlikely that I would survive such an event, it seemed best to be prepared for the eventuality.” He found the hidden pocket sewn into the boot’s lining, inserted his fingers into it, and drew out some heavily folded sheets of paper. “Ah, here we are.” 

Yoshimo was grinning openly now. “The Spellhold plans.”

“Yes.” The assassin held his hand out. “So, if you so choose, we are still very much in the game.” 

Yoshimo grasped his hand, even as he politely inclined his head. There was a new determination in his eyes, paired with relief. “Yes,” he said. “Let us play.” 

-*-

It was good to be back on his feet again, Dekaras mused the next day. True, technically he ought to remain in bed for one more day, according to the rather irate healer who had been seeing to him, but that was an idea he chose to dismiss. 

_After all, healers are always exaggeratedly cautious about what they say to their patients, just in case some clumsy fool trips and breaks his neck on his way to the privy. Clearly that doesn’t apply to me. I’m perfectly aware of my own limits, thank you very much._

He did feel more or less himself. Yes, he was a little more weary than usual, but some air and mild exercise should be far better for him than being shut indoors. He had always hated being restricted to the house; after all, it made him feel like a caged animal. _And I won’t go that far from the inn, just in case I’ve overestimated my own strength. Just a brief walk across the bridge and back, that is all. Besides, staying in bed for too long can be harmful to the circulation._

Comforted by the thought that his actions weren’t merely defendable, but even commendable, the assassin continued on his way. His current inn was situated just on the border of the Theatre District, though he supposed he ought to move as soon as he was strong enough. It wouldn’t do to remain in one place for too long, not with both Bodhi and Aerie after him. He had felt an itching sensation at the back of his mind for a while now and knew what it meant. 

_Scrying, again. Well, I can keep it out, for now. But I should still be careful._

He deliberately strengthened his mental walls again, feeling the itch subside. Then, his thoughts shifted focus. Yoshimo would hopefully be along again later this day, so they could probe at the Geas spell and try to determine just how limiting it was. In the meantime, there were the Spellhold maps to study. The place seemed to be huge, and not all of it had been built at the same time, so he couldn’t be sure if the maps were entirely accurate, but they were the best that could be had. He had determined where the different cellblocks were and thought it likely that Imoen would be in the lower security one. Getting in and out would be tricky though, and he still hadn’t worked that part out. 

_Magical wards of some kind around the premises, that much is clear. I wish they would have specified what they do, but that is too much to ask for I suppose. We will have to learn that when we get there. And then there is the…_

But here, Dekaras’ thoughts were interrupted as he nearly stepped on a corpse. He had just turned a corner, and the body was lying right out in the open, in the middle of the street. The assassin felt a small shiver down his back. He had seen, and for that matter caused death, oh so many times. He had seen quite a few repulsive things too. But this…this was something out of the ordinary as deaths went. The body seemed to belong to a human male, probably an adult, and a rather thin one. Apart from that not very much could be determined about the person’s identity. The reason for this was that somebody had completely flayed the corpse, removing every single square inch of skin from it. Muscles and sinews glistened wetly in the morning sun, displayed to the world in all their naked vulnerability, and lidless eyes stared in silent accusation. 

_It…looks like a display in a butcher’s store_ , Dekaras thought, and then he had to swallow briefly to regain his composure. Then the horrible sight was mercifully obscured as a guardsman stepped forward to spread a blanket over the corpse. 

“You, good citizen!” a voice said at his shoulder. “My name is Lieutenant Aegisfield, and I feel it is my duty to warn you, there is an insane murderer on the loose, and we cannot guarantee your safety.” 

Dekaras turned around and saw that the person addressing him was another guardsman, this one with a Lieutenant’s short crest on his helmet. He was a fairly tall and stocky man, of middle age, with a squashed nose and a rather nasty scar across his left eye. 

“Thank you,” the assassin politely said. “I can assure you that I will take all proper precautions. Might I ask what you know about this murderer?”

The other man’s mouth tightened. “Only that he must be a monster,” he said. “For some time now, he has been haunting the Bridge District, and his victims now number a dozen, if not more. He always takes the poor you see, beggars, thieves, and prostitutes. People few will miss or ask around after. And then, once he has killed them, he…well, you saw for yourself.”

Dekaras nodded. “A nasty business,” he said. “And nobody has seen or heard anything?”

The guard hesitated. “Well,” he said, “old Rampah, the beggar, seems to know something. But he’s old, and not right in the head. I could make no sense of his babbling. Apart from that, only vague tales of ‘mysterious cloaked figures’ and the sort. Nothing to make an arrest over.” He paused and gave the assassin a considering look. “You know, you seem a fellow who can take care of himself,” he said. “Maybe you’d be interested to hear there is a reward out for anybody who tracks this killer down? Five hundred gold pieces, the last I heard. True, the high ups may not care too much if the odd beggar dies, but now it’s getting too much, and they’re afraid it will interfere with commerce.”

“I have on occasion tracked people down,” the assassin replied. “I might take an interest in this, I suppose. And I presume you need some form of evidence as well? For the…arrest?”

Aegisfield looked him straight in the eyes, and his voice was calm. “Of course, for any legal proceedings that would be necessary,” he said. “The reward might also be paid out if the killer is, shall we say, unable to attend trial, but proper evidence would still be necessary. We have to be certain it is the right person, after all.” 

“Of course. Well, good luck to you then, Lieutenant. If I do happen to come across anything of interest, I’ll certainly let you know.” 

He was smiling to himself as he walked off, despite the grim scene he had just witnessed. Of course, he couldn’t spend a whole lot of time hunting down some insane killer, but it would be a nice way to exercise his mind, wouldn’t it? It would certainly help alleviate the boredom of his forced convalescence. One thing he had noticed about the corpse was just how skilled the skinner had been. The flesh itself was as unharmed as it could be under the circumstances; the cuts had been delicate and precise. _So, he knows how to handle a knife, and is experienced with it. For killing certainly, but that is not all. I know I could not have flayed a body in that manner. So, he does some kind of work that has given him this skill. A battle-surgeon perhaps…or a butcher. And he has kept his killings confined to the Bridge District, that is interesting. There are plenty of poor to prey on in the slums, or at the docks, yet he has remained here. That has to mean something. He could be killing far from home, to avoid suspicion. Or else he could be killing close to home, to make it easier to get away after each death. Well, we shall see. For now, let us see what this ‘Rampah’ has to say._

Old Rampah turned out to be an elderly beggar, with a dirty white beard that reached almost to his knees. He was so emaciated that he looked as if he might break in two at any moments, and there was only a small shred of sanity in his hollow eyes. “It’s not human skin, I tell you!” he nervously creaked, clutching his arms protectively across his narrow chest. He was holding something, Dekaras noticed. Something that looked like a piece of leather. “It’s not, it’s not, it’s not human skin! I found it, yes I did!” 

“Very well, it’s not human skin,” the assassin said, casually dropping a few coins into the old man’s beggar bowl. “I believe you.” He wouldn’t have the strength to ambush a mouse, I think, far less a human being. “What is it then?”

“I…I don’t know! But I found it, I found it, afterwards.”

“Afterwards?” Dekaras frowned. “After what? Did you see something? Something of the recent murder?”

Rampah immediately started sobbing. “I can’t say!” he wept. “He’ll come for me, he will! And old Rampah needs his skin, so he does.”

“Well, how about if you give me that thing he dropped? Then at least he won’t be coming to get that back from you, will he?” 

The beggar shrieked, immediately pressing the piece of thick, strongly smelling leather into Dekaras’ hands. “Take it, take it! Don’t let him take me! Please don’t let him take me, old Rampah needs his skin! Take…take…take her instead! The Rose, sweet Rose, she smells so sweet, not like him, no, not like him at all. She said so, Rose did, but they laughed at her and sent her away!” 

“Rose?”

“She works in the theatre now,” Rampah said, and then giggled to himself. “But that won’t keep her safe, not from him. Might as well be out in the streets…least you see him coming faster! One two, he’ll come for you…three, four, better lock your door…five, six…” 

“Which theatre?” Dekaras interrupted, not caring to listen to the mad chanting. 

Rampah pointed at the Five Flagons. “In there,” he said. He grinned suddenly and continued with his chanting. “Five, six…won’t be helped by tricks…seven, eight…have to face your fate…nine, ten…Skinner’s here again…” 

A few more coins did mostly settle him down, but he was still muttering and occasionally sobbing to himself as Dekaras took off. _Understandable_ , the assassin thought. _He is quite right to be afraid._ Upon examining the piece of leather, he agreed with Rampah on at least one thing. This couldn’t possibly be human skin; it was far too thick. What it actually was though, he couldn’t say. _A leatherworker would know though. Perhaps I can find one around here. And then there is Rose…_

An interesting coincidence that one possible witness to the murders should happen to work at that particular theatre. Or was it a coincidence? There certainly were enough people after a certain half-elf, could this be some plot directed at her? In that case he definitely had to find out all he could about it. 

Rose, as it happened, was happy to see him once he had explained his errand. “I need a bit of a break from rehearsals anyway,” she said, smiling as she comfortably curled up on a puffy red couch backstage. “Viconia is a real slave driver.” However, she smiled fondly at the Drow cleric as she said that. 

“If I am, it is because I have had practice,” Viconia replied with a small toss of her head. “And believe me, if that were truly the case, you would not dare to speak so.” She raised an elegant hand to her mouth, and yawned. “Now tell this male what he came to hear – I have met him before, and for a surfacer he is not a total incompetent. He might actually be able to do something about these murders, and then I will no longer be forced to provide escorts for the actors as they go home after rehearsal.”

“All right,” Rose said, now serious. “There’s not a whole lot to tell, really. I’d just gone home last night, and was about to go to bed, but wanted to open the window a moment to let in some air. And then I saw it.” She closed her eyes briefly and swallowed. “I saw the murder, and close by too since I’m on the first floor. I was close enough to the Skinner that I could have touched him, and if he’d noticed me, then…” Her lower lip trembled, but she gathered herself. “He didn’t, though. He was too busy. He cut some poor beggar down, and he dragged off the corpse. I guess he wanted to be undisturbed for…well, you know what he does. I never saw his face, he was wearing a hooded cloak, but I did notice something.” 

“Yes?” Dekaras asked. “What was it?”

“A smell. A sharp smell…it reminded me of Gulik berries, only I’m not sure if that was it. Whatever it was, it came from him. So, I tried to tell one of the guards later, but he just laughed at me.” She gave a faint smile. “Gulik berries are used for curing certain diseases. You know, like Crotch Fungus or Intimate Itch. I guess that’s why he didn’t take me seriously.” 

Viconia smirked. “Think the killer might be a certain annoying halfling? He would be a likely candidate, it seems.”

“Oh no, it couldn’t be. The killer was quite tall, but there was something weird about the way he walked.” Rose paused, thinking before she went on. “He moved like there was something wrong with his legs, like their joints moved the wrong way. You know, I’m really not sure he was human at all.” 

_Well_ , Dekaras thought. _This just keeps getting more interesting, doesn’t it? But human or not, this time around it will be the Skinner somebody is coming for._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It should tell you everything you need to know about how much concern Dekaras has for his own health and safety that he considers 'hunting down a supernatural serial killer' to be a suitable task during convalescence.


	132. Sphere and Space

**Cards Reshuffled 132 – Sphere and Space**

_Every time your main warrior lets a monster slip past him, every time your healer flips out and heals the wrong person, every time your mage fireballs a party of deadly fire giants, every time your thief gets himself killed over trying to pickpocket a disguised Archmage – rejoice. For the fact of the matter is, there’s always at least one adventuring party out there somewhere that is more dysfunctional than your own._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

The Planar Sphere was clearly visible from several streets away, a shimmering gray dome that sat in the middle of the slums like an enormous egg in a very untidy bird’s nest. Edwin viewed it with excitement, feeling rather like a small child on Solstice morning. 

_Imagine the wondrous magic that surely has to be hidden in there – and it is going to be mine, all mine!_ Well, he would share with his lover, certainly, but he after all was the one of them capable of the more advanced spells, and that meant he could look forward to a veritable treasure trove. _Surely a mage as ancient as this Lavok is must have gathered a great arsenal by now. Well, once the ranger has his way with him, he won’t be needing it any longer._

There was really only one cloud obscuring the otherwise blue sky of Edwin’s world. He had tried to contact his teacher last evening, to let him know that he was back in Athkatla. However, Dekaras had not been at the address he had last left, and there had been no message waiting either. _He hasn’t entangled himself with…no, he couldn’t have. He may be stubborn enough that he wouldn’t give up watching Bodhi, but surely, he wouldn’t confront her or Aerie directly. No, of course he wouldn’t._

Only…suppose something had gone wrong? Edwin nervously fiddled with the amulet at his throat, trying to adjust it. It was still uncomfortably cold to the touch, if not quite as icy as before. There was the taste of burning acid in his mouth as he tried and failed to suppress the hideous scenarios his imagination kept painting. 

_Boss, don’t!_ Insufferable, who was sitting on the wizard’s shoulder, now tugged gently at his earlobe, and then patted his cheek. _He’s probably just busy with something. It’s not like he keeps regular hours, right? You know that._

_Yes…yes, I suppose I do. But…_

_Come on, I bet you a juicy banana he’s just…er…found himself a nice girl or something and is busy doing hot monkey love with her!_

_Teacher Dekaras does not take an interest in ‘nice girls’! Stop being preposterous, monkey!_

_Boys then?_

_NO! You are trying to annoy me on purpose, aren’t you?_

_Well, it’s better than you being worried out of your mind, right, Boss?_

Edwin snorted, but he had to admit that the monkey had a point. He resolved to make another effort to seek his teacher out as soon as the Sphere had been dealt with, which surely wouldn’t take long. _Assuming that magic-hating fool even knows how to get it open, that is._

Valygar, as it happened, was approaching the Sphere with a dreamy, distant, yet apprehensive look on his face. As they drew closer it became clear that the thing wasn’t simply squeezed in between the houses – it was actually _inside_ some of the houses, passing through walls and ceilings in a way that seemed utterly impossible and gave you a headache if you looked at it for too long. “Yes…” the ranger muttered. “This is the Planar Sphere, here in the slums. If I am right…my blood, my presence…should open the Sphere.” 

He shouldered past a crowd of curious onlookers, beggars and vendors selling everything from Planar Sphere models over Planar Sphere teacups, Planar Sphere memento towels and tunics marked ‘I went and saw the Planar Sphere, and all I got was this lousy tunic’. Having reached one of the Sphere-inhabited houses, he pulled the door open, walked inside and disappeared up a dark staircase. 

“Well,” Zaerini said, “let’s go then.” She dislodged a halfling trying to sell her a Planar Sphere snowglobe from her right leg and followed Valygar inside: Edwin kept close by her, of course. Not only didn’t he want his lover to walk into potential danger without him, but it also allowed him a very nice view from behind her as she was climbing the steep staircase. 

Said staircase lead out onto a balcony, and here, finally, they were able to walk onto a narrow ledge leading up to a plain metal door without either keyhole or doorknob, set high up into the side of the Sphere. Valygar was already standing close by it, his eyes half closed as he seemed to listen to something only he could hear. “He is close…Lavok,” he said, still in that distant, absent-minded voice. “Close, and yet far. He is waiting for me.” 

“Then let us not keep him waiting,” Anomen firmly said, thumbing the hilt of the Flail of Ages. “Too long has that mage’s evil been allowed to reign unchecked.” 

Valygar simply nodded, and touched the door in front of him, running his hand across the smooth surface. There was a faint click, and then a buzzing sound. The door slid into the wall surrounding it, revealing a dark opening behind. From within the Sphere, a metallic voice spoke. 

“DNA pattern matched. Corthala scion detected. You may progress to the vestibule.” 

“Well…” Zaerini said, a slightly nervous smile on her face. “Shall we, then?” And before Edwin could suggest that somebody expendable, like perhaps the magic-hating ranger or the Helmite go in first, she stepped inside. 

The party found themselves in a round chamber, the walls and floor of which all were made up of the same gray metal. There were three doors, one to the left, one to the right, and one straight ahead, and apart from that the room was completely bare. “This one is locked,” Jaheira announced, having tested the middle door. “There is not so much as a keyhole.” 

The right door, however, lead to another small circular room, and unlike the first one this one wasn’t bare. On the floor was what resembled a large glass dome, and inside of it there was a wondrous sight indeed. 

”Oh, look Boo!” Minsc exclaimed, holding his hamster up and pointing. “Look at the little houses and the little people! Careful not to frighten them Boo, Heroes of Goodness only squish Evil people and only on purpose.” 

Edwin peered inside the globe with great interest. The large clod was actually right for once. Inside the dome there was a representation of the Slum’s District of Athkatla, as a bird might see it from high above. It all seemed fully detailed, he could make out tiny spirals of smoke from the chimneys, see miniature people walking along the streets and even the miniscule white pinpricks that were soaring seagulls. In the middle, there was a smaller replica of the Sphere itself. “A scrying spell of some sort,” he announced. “The Sphere is meant for traveling, and clearly this device provides its owner with a map of the immediate surroundings. See, you can even clearly see the vendors near the north gate. (Not that I normally put much stock in Divination magic, but I suppose for those not blessed with my own superior sense of direction it might be an adequate aid.)”

“Well,” Jaheira said, “Since the gate you are pointing at is the western one, you will forgive me for not bowing down to your ‘superior sense of direction’. My inferior one tells me we should try the remaining door, to begin with.” 

“Ah…I was doing that on purpose!” Edwin tried. “I was merely checking that you were all paying proper attention.” It didn’t quite seem as if the others were believing him though, and the fact that he could feel his cheeks heating up didn’t help. _I hope my Hellkitten believed me at least._

“Cheer up, Dread Wizard,” Zaerini told him as she came up to put her arm under his, planting a quick kiss on his cheek. “At least I’m paying attention to you.” She winked. “Come on now, let’s go loot this place.” 

“Excuse me?” Valygar asked. “We are on a mission to slay my evil ancestor here!”

“Of course, we are. But there’s no reason that should stop us from looting on the way there and back, is there?” 

Valygar frowned, but before he managed an answer the redhead had already pressed on. The third and last door swung open easily and revealed another small and circular room that seemed to be a storage room. It had metal chests stacked all around the walls, all of them closed. It also had a guard, a small clay golem that turned to watch them with unblinking red eyes as they entered the room. 

“Intruders detected,” it stated in a calm, impersonal voice. “Order - terminate.” 

“You will not touch Minsc’s Witch, Evil Clay man!” Minsc bellowed. “If you try, Minsc and Boo will stomp you to bits, mix with water and make you into mud cake! Boo already prepared one for show, see?” He proudly reached into his pocket and displayed a small, flat object that certainly did look like a miniature mudcake. The golem, however, wasn’t impressed. It charged, silently and relentlessly, without thought for its own safety. 

It was Anomen who bore the brunt of the attack, him being the only one of the warriors both using a shield and wielding a suitably blunt weapon, not to mention being sturdy enough not to lose his footing as he blocked the golem’s first blow. Edwin wasted no time in observing how the others did, instead he focused on his magic, conjuring tiny flaming rocks that he proceeded to hurl at the golem as fast as he could. Jan and Zaerini did the same, and it wasn’t long before the golem fell, crumbling into bits. 

“Feet of clay,” Jan commented. “Not a very practical idea, but still better than my cousin Dudders who had feet made for walking. Prosthesis you see, after paying off a gambling debt that he’d been sure he’d be able to settle. So, being the generous, giving gnome that I am, I made him mechanical feet regulated by his own willpower.”

“Sounds useful enough,” Zaerini asked, as she started rummaging through one of the chests along the walls. “What went wrong?” 

“Well, the funny thing is the feet absolutely refused to walk to work, they kept walking down to the Copper Coronet instead. Dudders swore it was a mechanical malfunction, and then he tried to sue me for malpractice. He might even have got away with it, if the feet hadn’t had a really big and extremely accidental glitch on the day of the verdict and kicked the judge on the shins…” 

“All’s well that ends well then,” the half-elf said, sounding amused. “Speaking of which, I’ve found something.” What she’d found was a narrow metal rod, one end marked with grooves and notches. “Looks like a key, don’t you think?” 

“So it does, your Worship,” Jan agreed. “And where there’s a key, there’s usually a keyhole. Let me take another look.” He brought the key over to the closed door, passing it lightly along the wall. This time, there was a faint ‘blip’, and a panel in the wall slid open, revealing a dark glass screen, a panel with some buttons on it, and a keyhole. “Ha!” Jan said. “Thought so.” He inserted the key into the keyhole, and within seconds the panel came to life, displaying a vaguely outlined male face. The details weren’t very clear, but the bored voice that issued was all the clearer. 

“Oh, bother,” it said. “There I’d almost figured out how the horsies move compared to the little houses and you come and bother me. Typical, innit? Right, here goes.” The voice cleared its throat. “Initiating airlock lockdown. Core ignition sequence initiated. Preparing for dimensional and spatial jump.” Edwin jumped as there was a swishing sound behind him, and a metallic thud as the exit door slid shut. Somewhere deep beneath his feet, something started humming loudly. 

“Er….Jan?” Zaerini asked, a note of panic in her voice. “What did you just do?” 

“Nothing!” The gnome insisted. “Hold on, hold on, I’ll fix it…” He frantically pressed every button imaginable on the panel, then finished off with turning the key again. 

“Course plotted,” the bored voice spoke from the screen. “Not that I know why I bother, really, you’ll probably just botch this anyway. Launch in T minus ten seconds.” 

“JAN JANSEN!” Jaheira fairly roared, gripping the gnome by his collar and shaking him. “Make it stop right NOW!” 

“T-minus nine seconds…” the countdown went on, seemingly oblivious to the argument.

“C-c-c-can’t!”

“T minus eight seconds…” 

“WHY NOT?”

“Because you’re sh-sh-sh-shaking me…” 

“T minus six seconds…”

“Wait, wait, what about seven?” Edwin protested, pounding on the screen. “You left out the seven, you ignorant piece of nuts and bolts! (Oh, how I would like to take him apart and remake him into a…a device for toasting bread, yes, that seems to suit his level of competence.)”

“Did I?” The voice sounded quite confused, which didn’t inspire any confidence at all. 

“Yes!”

“Oh. Well, no harm done. Might as well skip to the end, then. Three, two, one…blast off!” 

And so, with a hideous, mind-bending, dimension-jumping lurch, the Planar Sphere hurled screaming into the ether towards an unknown destination. 

-*-

“Aaaarrrgggghhh!” Zaerini screamed, as she felt herself pressed flat to the floor by the acceleration of the Planar Sphere. There was the horrible sensation that her insides were about to come spewing out through her mouth and that her lungs were being pushed into her nose. Red roses and shooting stars flickered past her streaming eyes, and there was a loud whistling noise in her ears. Finally, it stopped, and she simply lay there, trying to catch her breath. The Sphere had come to a halt…or at least she hoped it had. 

“Hellkitten? How are you feeling?” Edwin was gathering her into his arms, and there was a very worried look in his dark eyes as he bent over her. 

“I’ll…live, I guess,” she said, managing a faint grin. “Where are we?”

“Ask the gnome,” Jaheira growled. “He is the one who brought us here, after all.” 

Jan got to his feet and brushed himself off, looking completely unabashed. “Well, that was interesting, wasn’t it?” he asked. “Wonder how it does that…I’d love to tinker with these engines for a bit.”

“Jan…”

“Oh, where we are? Easy to find out, easy as pie.” He scampered off towards the map room. “We’ll just check this handy little thing in here and…er…” There was silence. 

“Jan?” Rini called out, following the gnome. “What’s wrong?” As she entered, she found her friend staring at the magical map, a rather sickly and pale look on his face. She followed his gaze, and then she knew why. The map no longer showed Athkatla, but she had expected that much. However, nothing could have prepared her for what she saw. Dark plains and mountains, bubbling crevices of hot lava, patches of ground that twisted and moved, displaying agonized faces with silently screaming mouths. And there were…things…moving around. Some were huge and scaly, with so many sharp bits all over that she couldn’t see which part was the head. If there was a head. There were slimy, slick creatures, spindly hairy ones, and some that looked almost human. Those were the worst. 

“Helm’s mercy…” Anomen breathed. “Where in the Abyss are we?”

“Um…” Jan said. “Funny you should say that, really.”

-*-

Sometime later, once everybody, including Jaheira and Edwin, had managed to quiet down again and stop shouting at Jan, they decided to press on. The exit door was now locked, so even if they had wanted to go explore the Abyss, they couldn’t have. It also seemed entirely impossible to plot a new course and get the Sphere started again. However, the door that had been locked before was now open. 

“Wherever we may be,” Valygar stated, “Lavok waits ahead. “And Lavok is whom I have come for.” 

“I suppose you have a point there,” Rini said. “And it’s not as if we have much of a choice about where to go, other than forward.” She went ahead, following a short tunnel that ended before another door, and then reached out her hand to open it. All it took was a light touch, and the door slid noiselessly open, revealing a round room, with a round table. Around that table sat three men, who looked up with surprise as they saw her. 

Apart from being male, and wearing the swords, armors and tabards of knights, the trio couldn’t have looked more dissimilar. The one to the left was rather short, had a round face, a cheeky grin that reminded Rini of Jan, and had his hair tied into a multitude of little braids like Valygar’s. His armor was more than a little rusty, and horribly stained with what at first, she took to be acid. Then she saw that he was eating something green, bubbling and sharp smelling out of a paper box, and realized that the stains had to be some kind of food. _Either that or he’s a dragon in disguise. If even the smell of that stuff makes my eyes tear, I don’t want to know what it tastes like._

The second knight was quite tall and thin, with short and curly brown hair, flaring nostrils and armor so polished it gleamed like the sun. At the sight of the approaching strangers, he leapt from his chair like a startled rabbit, and disappeared under the table so fast that Rini’s eyes could barely follow him. 

As for the third and final knight, he was as dark-skinned as Valygar, had his hair puffed into a wild and somehow leonine hairdo, and when he launched a dazzling smile at the half-elf she noticed that his teeth could best be described as fangs. Also, the way he had his legs casually placed on the table fairly screamed ‘Look at me!’. 

In the corner was another golem, a human-sized iron one, with a very ugly square head. It was dusting one of the bunk beds along the walls, and had apparently been doing that for some time, since it had worn a hole through the blanket. “Oh, my goodness!” it said, as it turned towards the party. “Guests! And I haven’t even finished vacuuming the floor yet!” It opened a compartment in its stomach, took out a long rubber hose, attached it to its groin, and cleaned away, sucking dust up through the hose accompanied by a loud buzzing sound. 

“Not in public, mate!” the scruffy knight admonished the golem. He coughed, spewing bits of corrosive green food over the table. Then he waved at the party. “Cheers. Anybody fancy a curry? Those rabid little halflings sure cook a mean one…” 

“Forget about that, monkey!” the fanged knight said, grinning appreciatively at Jaheira and Zaerini. “They’ve got females!” He started strutting across the floor, wriggling his hips. “Ooooh, I’m gonna get you, little kitties…urk.” The last was caused by Anomen’s Hold spell freezing him in place at the same time that Edwin singed half his hair off with a thick jet of flame. 

“See? SEE!” a shrill voice said from under the table. “I told you they were aliens, I told you so! And now they’ll abduct us with glittery green stun-rays that freeze us in place, and take us into their ship and ram giant pineapples up our…”

“Oh, shut up, Bummer, you sad git,” the scruffy knight said, rolling his eyes. “They’re not aliens. Whenever we meet aliens, they always try to enslave us or suck our brains out.” 

“It’s ‘illithids’, not ‘aliens’, you ignorant monkey,” Edwin sneered. “And illithids we are not, and neither, I am sorry to say, are you. (Tentacles would obscure his imbecilic features quite nicely.)” 

“You know,” Bummer thoughtfully said as he peered out from behind the table, “that’s what I’ve always thought as well. Can you imagine having to look at that every day, especially when he’s biting his utterly disgusting toenails. Or when he’s eating his utterly disgusting halfling curries. Not to mention his complete and total disregard for proper procedure!”

Anomen looked shocked. “But you are knights! Following proper procedure is what we…er…they…do.” 

“Exactly! ‘Blaster’, I’ll tell him, ‘Solamnian Knights Directive number 33489 clearly states that all loot found on enemy corpses should be given to the highest ranking knight present, especially if said loot includes any new girly magazines that said highest ranking knight doesn’t have, and particularly if Erotica the Elf Queen is the centerfold’. But that disrespectful little gimboid just…” 

The iron golem cleared its throat. “Actually, sir, number 33489 says ‘Any knights caught sniffing armor polish in the mess will be punished by being hung naked by their toes above a pit of playful tigers.’” 

“Look, who are you guys anyway?” Rini tried. 

“Solamnian Knights,” Blaster said, grinning at her. “The only ones alive…well, the only ones alive in this place, anyway. We’re all alone…more or less. No idea how far from home we are, really, we’ve been tryin’ to get back for a long time. We keep ending up in the wrong universe.”

“Estimated distance – five million lightyears, three thousand dimensions and two insane plot writers,” the bored and slightly metallic voice that had conducted the countdown said from a metal grill in the wall. 

“Oh, shut the smeg up, nobody asked you,” Bummer said. “We wouldn’t even be lost out here if somebody hadn’t had the brilliant idea of accidentally launching the Sphere.” He gave the fanged knight an accusing look. 

“And then we wouldn’t be forced to hang with you, Mr World’s Most Charismatic Man,” Blaster scoffed. He turned to the party. “Y’know, he actually managed to kill the pet goldfish we had in here by reciting the Solamnian Knights Directives to them. They committed collective suicide, all of them jumped out of the bowl and choked to death.” 

“All this is very fascinating, I’m sure,” Valygar said, “But I’m looking for Lavok the Necromancer. I mean to kill him. Have you seen him around?”

The lost knights looked at each other.”Yeah,” Blaster said in a quiet voice. “Only, first I think we’d better tell you what you’re up against.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tribute to my favourite sci-fi show, Red Dwarf, should be very obvious! I felt the Planar Sphere adventure was especially well suited for inserting references to various things, given the entire subplot involves dimension jumping.


	133. Hide and Seek

**Cards Reshuffled 133 – Hide and Seek**

_According to bard tales, there are a few important rules that should be followed when dealing with an insane killer, if you want to survive until the end of the play._

_1\. Be a pretty girl._

_2\. Be a virgin and make certain to stay one. Come to think of it, make certain you don’t even know about the process that will terminate your virginity._

_3\. Be perfectly good and pure of heart. If that can’t be achieved, wearing a white dress helps._

_Of course, in the real world, and when you cannot meet these requirements, it’s by far preferable to simply slit his throat when he’s not looking your way._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

“Yes, this is it,” Rose said, her pretty face scrunched up as she sniffed carefully at what she was holding. “That’s what I smelled on the killer. You say it’s tannin?”

“Yes,” Dekaras thoughtfully replied. “For curing leather.” It all fit neatly together – perhaps even too neatly. A local shopkeeper had provided him with the tannin, as well as with the two different kinds of berries that had also been possible as the cause of the smell Rose had caught off the Skinner. The young actress hadn’t hesitated at all. _So, she smelled tannin on the killer himself, and a piece of elephant hide was found on the scene. What kind of man would have access to both?_ “Tell me, are there any tanners close by?”

“There is,” Rose said, and she was biting her lip nervously. “Reijek…Reijek Hidesman. He has a shop down the end of Elm Street. You know where that is?”

“I do,” the assassin replied. “And do you know this Reijek well?”

“Not really. I mean, it’s not as if I need to buy a lot of hides or anything. He’s always seemed nice enough, bit shy maybe.”

“Married? Children?”

“No. He lives with his old mother though.” 

“I see.” Dekaras bowed briefly. “Well, thank you for your time, I appreciate it. And now I think I will make the acquaintance of this ‘Reijek’.” 

Viconia, who had been listening silently to the conversation so far, chose this moment to speak. The Drow was sitting curled up on a comfy couch in Rose’s dressing room, brushing out her hair, and with the sun streaming in through the window behind her it made her snowy white hair blaze like a halo around her dark face. “If you do, I will come with you,” she plainly stated, red eyes boring into the assassin. He was briefly reminded of another woman – one who also took the view that commands from her were meant to be obeyed without question. 

“You know,” Dekaras mused, “there is one very useful word common on the surface that will get you quite far. It’s called ‘please’. You want to practice using it, it will save you a lot of time.” 

“And you want to practice your manners, male, or I will give you personal instruction in the subject, Underdark style,” the priestess said, but she was smiling faintly as she spoke. “I am not doing this on a whim. As it is, this killer is a threat to the actors I am in charge of. If he kills them, I will have to find replacements, and that would be a nuisance I am not prepared to deal with.” 

“Well, you could try…” Rose said, winking. “But there’s no way you’d find any actress but me with my own…special skills.” She winked at Viconia, and walked out, chuckling quietly to herself. Dekaras wasn’t quite certain, but he thought he could detect the tiniest bit of a tremor in the black hand clenched around the hairbrush. 

“So,” Viconia said, “as I was saying, resistance will be futile. I am coming along, and that’s it.”

Dekaras shrugged. “As you wish,” he said. “It so happens that I think you could be useful, even though I could certainly manage well enough on my own. Come with me then – I will fill you in on the way.” 

The tanner Reijek Hidesman’s shop lay at the very end of Elm Street, a narrow street that wound its way between aging houses so cramped together that they seemed about to topple into the street. The shop’s name was Hide and Seek, or so the cheerful sign portraying two playing children dressed in thick furs proudly proclaimed. The windows were dark, but it was just possible to make out some large stacks of skins which had a fine layer of dust covering them. 

“Not doing much business lately, it seems,” Dekaras mused. “So, let’s attempt to be as terrifying as possible, shall we?” He held the door open for Viconia, who strode straight through it, grinning fiercely. 

Inside, the tannery was dark and musty, and the strong scent of tannin assaulted the nostrils of both human and Drow. There were some wooden working tables set out along the walls, cabinets and shelves with tools, and a stairway leading upstairs. A rather nervous looking man with long and spindly arms and legs was just hurrying down it, tugging at some of his short curls as he attempted to smooth them down. He had an ordinary kind of face, one that seemed capable of warm smiles and good cheer, but right now he wasn’t smiling at all. 

“What…?” he said, staring at Viconia. “You are…”

“Silence, male!” the priestess snapped. She walked up to the tanner, watching him carefully with narrowed red eyes. “Or I will rip your tongue straight out of your useless mouth and feed it to the mongrel street dogs outside.”

“You had better do what she says, and listen,” Dekaras calmly added in, leaning idly against the counter the tanner had ensconced himself behind. “When she gets upset, things usually break. And wouldn’t it be sad if she happened to break something unique and irreplaceable, while she’s here?”

“Such as your spine, scum,” Viconia growled at the tanner, whose Adam’s apple was bobbing frantically up and down. 

“Or,” Dekaras commented, letting a dagger spin slowly between his fingers without really looking at it, “you can make your most sincere attempt at customer satisfaction ever. We are in the market for skins.” He aimed a cold smile at Reijek. “Skins of the rarest kind. I am sure you can guess what I mean. Now, my companion may be a little temperamental, but I am inclined to be your friend, for now. Isn’t that nice?”

“Yes…” Reijek muttered. “Very nice.” He lowered his voice. “I can get you what you need…but you don’t understand, it takes time! The work isn’t nearly finished yet.”

“Then,” Viconia said, “I suggest you finish it, and soon. In the meantime, you can show us what you have done so far.”

Reijek goggled at her, his face shiny with sweat. “So far…but that would ruin it, ruin it all!” His voice was getting louder, shriller. “I need more skins, more soft and supple and lovely skins, fresh off the bodies still screaming and bleeding! You would know that; they would have told you! You aren’t…who are you…you won’t catch me, no you won’t! You won’t stop the work!” 

And suddenly he was sprinting up the dark stairway, practically leaping up it three steps at a time. Dekaras didn’t need to pause to think before hurling the dagger he had been holding. It flew smoothly from his hand, embedding itself neatly between the fleeing man’s shoulder blades, and it should have been enough to bring him down. However, Reijek merely stumbled for a few seconds, and then he was running on, long legs bending as easily as if they were boneless. Viconia’s voice rose as she chanted a request to her goddess, and thick tendrils of pure darkness shot from her hands and up the stairs. Reijek simply kept running though, blindly, until he had disappeared upstairs. 

The Drow and the assassin looked at each other for a few seconds. “That was no human,” Viconia eventually said, breaking the silence. 

“No,” Dekaras agreed.

“So, shall we go kill him then, for being such a nuisance?”

“Certainly. But we should tread carefully, we have no way of knowing exactly what he is, or what he is capable of.”

Viconia nodded. “True…we might as well be prepared.” She rapidly started casting one spell after another, wrapping them both in shielding and protective magic. “There,” she finally said, smiling with satisfaction. “And now, let us go claim that creature’s very own hide.” 

The duo started up the staircase, moving slowly so as not to run into any nasty surprise. Dekaras went first, keeping to the shadows as he scouted the way. So far, he hadn’t come across anything worse than some large cobwebs though. As he turned to see how far behind him Viconia was, he noticed her brushing them aside with an odd expression on her face, part loathing and part longing. _Of course. She is an exile, after all, a former priestess of Lolth._

At the top of the stairs, he paused, listening. He thought he’d heard something…a faint, creaking sound ahead. 

“That way,” Viconia whispered, pointing. Her pointed ears twitched slightly as she strained to hear better. “The room up ahead.” 

Silently they went on, halting now and then to listen for any sounds of an ambush. That creaking noise was a bit louder now…and there was a clinking component too. Dekaras carefully moved towards the open door ahead, through which pale and dirty daylight was filtered onto the bare wooden floor. All thoughts of convalescence were gone – he was feeling perfectly fine, now that his senses were all alerted. _There, that should show that stubborn healer that there are those far more in need of her aid than I am._ Then, he took a peek inside the room, and knew that he had been correct – assuming that said healer was capable of raising the dead. 

The room was a combination of bedroom and workshop. There was a broad bed, covered with a pink and blue fluffy quilt. Some dark cabinets lined the walls, along with several tables. And on the tables…on the tables…

“By Shar…” Viconia murmured. “This _rivvil_ certainly has been keeping busy, hasn’t he?”

Dekaras spared another moment to simply look, taking it all in. The neat piles of skins on the tables, carefully sorted according to color. Pale, dark, and every shade in-between. Then there were the bodies…a heap of them lay in one corner. Most were as the one he had seen earlier, although one that was spread out on a worktable was only half skinned, from the waist and downwards. Probably this was what Reijek had been busy with as he was interrupted. On the walls, there were…smaller bits of skin. If you didn’t know what they were, you might have mistaken them for masks. If you didn’t know. 

_Funny_ , Dekaras thought, staring at one of the closest ones, a young man whose mouth was still open in a silent scream. _I never realized how much of a person’s appearance is really…skin deep._ Then, he suppressed the morbid thought, rapidly continuing to scan the room. No sign of the Skinner anywhere. There was an open hatch in the floor though. Still, there was that creaking and clanking sound they had heard before. 

“What is that?” Viconia muttered.

Dekaras didn’t reply. He had already turned his eyes upwards, and spotted the horribly mutilated body wrapped in chains, that was dangling from the rafters. Skinned, like the others, but dressed in the strict and proper black dress of a widow. She spun slowly round and round, the chains clanking gently as she did so. Somebody had nailed a sign to her bleeding chest, a sign that read ‘No More Mama’s Good Boy’. 

“I rather think,” he said in a low voice, “that Reijek Hidesman has got some very serious family issues.”

“Interesting,” Viconia remarked as she watched the gently spinning corpse. “In the Underdark, very few males would dare raise their hand against their mother, and those who did would soon regret it.” 

“Surprising as it might be,” Dekaras said in a dry voice, “murdering your mother isn’t considered socially acceptable behavior here either, for males or females. Help me get her down, would you?” Once that had been accomplished, he gave the corpse a cursory examination, then frowned. “Odd,” he said. “I would estimate she has been dead for a few days; do you agree?”

The Drow nodded. “Four or five, I’d say. The stiffness has come and gone, and the discolorations are fully formed.” 

“Yes. So why isn’t there any smell? The weather is warm, she should be quite ripe by now.”

Viconia’s red eyes narrowed. “A spell of some kind. Yet the tanner was no mage.”

“No. So somebody is helping him. A lone insane killer skinning people, now that is one thing. These things happen. But somebody aiding him…there could be more to this than just a madman’s whims.” 

Viconia nodded. “The tanner fled below but left the hatch open. It is almost as if he wishes us to follow. He will have set a trap.”

“Not just one,” the assassin said, scanning the floor. “I see…three. Of course, there is a remote possibility that I might have missed a few, but we are bound to find out about that, aren’t we?”

“How inspiring a thought. But I was thinking more of what he might have prepared below. Hold still a moment, I will ask for Shar’s blessing to grace us.” 

“Well,” Dekaras said with a thin smile, “I hope she is not in the mood to demonstrate her philosophy of loss to us. The night aspect though, now that would serve us very well indeed.” 

A few minutes later, they were ready, and stood above the open hatch, peering down. There were stairs, yes, the darkness below made it impossible to see how far down they went. And there was a smell too – the sharp, salty smell of the sea. _An underground connection to the sea_ , Dekaras thought. _Not just your ordinary basement. But then, there isn’t a whole lot of ‘ordinary’ about this place._

“Shar…” Viconia murmured. “Let your shadows guide us to safety.” She spread her hands, smiling faintly as thick tendrils of darkness crept out from between her fingers, winding themselves down the stairs to make the dark below even more compact. Now at least it would be difficult to ambush them for anybody lurking below. Dekaras nodded with satisfaction as he carefully descended the stairs, step by step, feeling his way cautiously for any more traps. He had always had good night vision, but a handy little spell courtesy of Viconia currently ensured he saw as well as any Drow would have done. He took a moment to wonder if it might be set into a magical item – he could easily imagine a lot of situations where it might be useful. _Then again, I wouldn’t want to become dependent on any trinket above my own skill. Not on anything that could be lost or destroyed._

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he felt Viconia’s slim hand touching his shoulder, and paused. “I hear humans ahead,” she whispered into his ear. “Two of them, by the breathing. More from the sides.” 

The assassin acknowledged this with a nod and considered their options. Blind fighting was difficult of course, but on the other hand the artificial darkness was a protection, for now. _Unless the mage decides to toss a fireball or two this way, of course, or a Horrid Wilting. He wouldn’t need to aim then._ Then, there was a noise. A faint noise, but still audible, coming from his right flank. The sound of a knife emerging from its leather sheath, a sheath that would have needed to be just a little softer in order to make no noise at all. Dekaras froze in place, poised to strike, and he could tell from Viconia’s slightly quickened breathing that she had been alerted as well. _Of course. She lived in the Underdark for a long time, assassinations are commonplace there._ He breathed in slowly, letting the familiar coldness and calm fill his mind. _Focus on the kill. There is nothing else. Nothing but the hunt and the kill._

The first opponent made his move, lunging for the hidden pair, and now that he was close enough, he became semi-visible at least, a faintly glowing red outline of heat against the blackness. He was fast, Dekaras had to give him that, and he knew to wield his dagger low, not leaving himself open. But it wouldn’t be enough. Dekaras twisted around, lashing out with a kick that struck the other man’s lower arm, hard. There was a cracking sound, a muffled scream, and the sound of metal skidding away across a stone floor. _There. Pounce. Kill._ The assassin barely waited for his opponent’s final death rattle before he was on his feet again, searching. Viconia was facing off against two, having snared them both in a paralyzing spell. She was smiling gleefully as she drove the mace she had carried at her belt into the face of the first, no doubt turning it into a bloody pulp beneath the black mask he wore. No time to admire her efficient handiwork though. _Next kill. Where? Yes._ There. He flipped backwards, narrowly avoiding being impaled on a sword, twisting around to land on his feet. A throwing dagger left his hand flying straight and true, embedding itself in the assailant’s throat. He ignored the spurts of hot blood splattering him, and moved to finish, finding a grasp on the slick flesh before twisting the dagger. A body slumped to the floor, already forgotten. _Hunt. Kill._

Viconia was moving her hands, practically caressing the air between them, and before her one of the attackers was choking, his hands clawing at air he could no longer breathe, a blackening tongue protruding from between his clenched teeth. She was not in need of assistance. _There. Yes._ And he grabbed the fleeing man from behind, feeling his blade embed itself neatly between the shoulder blades. _There, that was the last. But not the tanner, anonymous assassins counting on their numbers to overwhelm any opponent. Then where…_

And then, Viconia’s spell of darkness diminished, and the room they were in became properly visible at last. The reason for the salty, watery smell became clear, this was actually a small cavern functioning as an underground harbor. There was no boat in there though, apart from a small rowing boat. On the docks there were several large crates and boxes, and Reijek Hidesman was right in the middle of trying to wrestle some of them into the boat without sinking it. There was another man here too, a slightly stooped, middle-aged man wearing deep green magerobes. The cowl was pulled up so that his face was mostly obscured. “No time, Reijek!” he called out. “Leave them!” 

Reijek turned, hissing. There was something wrong with his face – the skin rippled, rolling back and forth as if it were about to slide off his skull, and it seemed somehow too large for his head. “But the work…” he said, and his voice was deep and rasping, no longer human. 

“The work will continue! Now come!” Dekaras was prepared to take a shot at him, but he saw the magical shields flaring up around the other man and knew it would be useless to even try. “You two!” the mage called out, even as he bent down to draw a circle in blue flames around his feet. “You have come this far, but do not think you will not rue the day you crossed the Rune!” A flash of blue light, and they were both gone, the mage and the skinner, only flickering afterimages remaining. 

“’The Rune’?” Viconia asked, as she stepped over the corpses, avoiding the larger puddles with the careful precision of a sleek cat. 

“The Twisted Rune, I suspect,” Dekaras mused, still watching the spot where the mage had disappeared. That had been a powerful teleportation spell, he could tell that much. “A powerful organization of some very nasty people, mostly mages.” He laughed sardonically. “And there I was telling Edwin off for all the people he’s managed to annoy while visiting Athkatla. I believe the Twisted Rune were about the only ones he hadn’t got around to yet.” 

“So, you completed the set?” Viconia said, her eyes glinting with amusement. “He will be ecstatic to hear it, I am sure.” 

“If he hears it. Which I have some hopes that he will not. It is not as if we can do anything about it, anyway, short of hiding under our beds for the rest of our natural lifespans hoping the Rune won’t think to look there.”

Viconia’s smile was a quick flash of teeth against her dark face. “Of all the things I’ve ever found beds useful for, hiding under them was never one of them, and I won’t start now. Besides, I have far more important enemies to worry about than some rivvil wizards. Would you like me to fix that before you bleed to death?”

Dekaras blinked, for a moment not understanding what she was talking about. Then, he felt the burning pain along the left side of his ribcage, clear now that the rush of battle had passed. And yes, there was blood there, he could feel the heat of it. “That would be appreciated, yes,” he said. “I am sure you are very capable of resurrecting somebody, but I would prefer not to put it to the test unless I absolutely have to.” 

“Another day, perhaps,” the Drow said, as she bent down to examine the wound. It wasn’t too deep, fortunately, just a long but shallow gash along his ribs, and the edges came together nicely under the influence of her healing spell. 

Once that was over and done with, they searched the premises. Some of the boxes contained Black Lotus, there was a minor casket of gems and gold, but the majority were filled with neatly tanned skins. Not just any kind of skin either. 

“What could he possibly want with so many human skins?” Viconia asked aloud. 

“Something like this perhaps,” Dekaras replied, holding up an item he had just come across. It was a suit of armor, soft and supple, cured and dyed to a soft golden brown. It was possible that it had been intended for a female – certainly the remaining…shape…seemed to indicate that. “But I don’t see why. Why human skin, dangerous to acquire and not too sturdy, when there are other options available?”

“To frighten and terrorize,” Viconia promptly replied. “Or for the novelty, in the Underdark they would fetch a nice prize, particularly in the more remote settlements.”

“Yes, that may be so, but this is the Twisted Rune we are talking about. The drugs in here would fetch more money still, and people are already frightened of them.”

“Well,” Viconia stated, “there is nothing more to be learnt here. Too bad the Skinner ran off before we could kill him, but now at least it will be known who he is, so he will have to move on, leaving Rose and the other actors safe.” 

“Indeed.” 

They walked in silence for a while, leaving the abattoir of the tannery behind. The evidence inside, coupled with the witnesses, should certainly be enough to satisfy Inspector Aegisfield, Dekaras thought. The reward along with what had been gathered from the Skinner’s hideout should make a decent addition to his funds, which he would need before going after Imoen. Not to mention that he had got a nice bit of exercise, he was feeling more or less entirely recovered by now. Well, apart from being slightly tender where he had been wounded, but that didn’t count, seeing that it was fresh. Yes, once more he was feeling on top of everything, perfectly in control of himself and…

“You! What are you doing up? And in _that_ state!” 

Dekaras’ head snapped around, and he saw a very angry-looking woman striding towards him, her white healer’s robes about as blood-splattered as his own clothes. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her brown hair was frazzled. “I thought I told you,” she growled, glaring up at him with bloodshot eyes, “to get some rest. And what do I find?” She threw her hands up in the air. “You know, sometimes I wonder why I bother. I’m kept up all night, hardly any time to eat, hardly any time to find an outhouse either, some drunken lout of a street brawler who just bashed somebody else’s brains out with a beer mug whines like a baby just because I need to set his broken nose and demands that I ‘make him sleep first’, somebody else spits blood all over me, I’m in paperwork up to my ears, and now you. Well, don’t think you’ll get a free discount for messing up all the work I did on you, you can pay twice for all I care. And you can do it on somebody else’s shift. I’m going home.” 

“I…”

“DON’T YOU TALK BACK TO ME! Straight back to bed, and rest!” 

Viconia’s grin reached almost from one pointed ear to the other. “No need to worry, dear,” she said. “Want me to tie him down for you? I have some experience in dealing with stubborn males.” 

Dekaras didn’t wait to hear what the reply was. He simply ducked into the crowd, trying to block out the furious shouts of the healer behind him. By comparison, being caught by the Twisted Rune suddenly didn’t seem like such a bad option.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what's your favourite scary movie? :) If it wasn't already obvious, I enjoy several.


	134. Spices and Sorcery

**Cards Reshuffled 134 – Spices and Sorcery**

_No matter if you’re adventuring in Maztica or Chult, in the Abyss or Elysium, remember this one thing. There’s no such thing as a free lunch._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Well?” Valygar asked, his face stony. “Just what horrors can you tell me of Lavok?”

“Aaaaah…” said Bummer, the tall knight with the flaring nostrils. “Now, see, it’s all a bit of a complicated story, one featuring a brave and heroic knight of Solamnia saddled with the responsibility of taking charge of his inept comrades in arms, and I use the term comrades very loosely indeed.”

“That’s all right,” Jan said, smiling brightly. “We all love stories, the longer the better.”

“Oh, but it’s really very boring, nothing to waste your time on…hang on, I’ll tell you the tale of my heroic battle against a whole squadron of space faring purple dragons instead!”

Edwin gave Anomen a long, hard look. “Whichever of your ancestors meddled with dimensional traveling,” he said, “he might have had the courtesy not to breed all over the multiverse. (One was bad enough. If this goes on, I will not be held responsible for my actions.)”

“What he means t’say,” said Blaster, the chubby looking knight with the braids and sloppy armor, “Is that he got our entire squadron of knights killed, so we’re all that’s left.” He suddenly waved his hand in Bummer’s direction, and Zaerini felt her jaw drop open as she saw it go through the other man’s chest. “Well, sorta. Bummer here’s not really alive, is he?”

“I’ll thank you not to do that, you obnoxious little smeghead with the mental capacity of half a goat, the rear half I might add!”

Now it was Anomen who was glaring at Edwin. “I say the infamous Red Wizards of Thay that sired _you_ are far more likely to have engaged in perverted extra dimensional activities than my own ancestors, thank you very much.”

“ALL OF YOU SHUT UP RIGHT NOW BEFORE I FINISH WHAT LAVOK STARTED!” Jaheira yelled, and there was a wild look in her eyes that made Rini take a couple of careful steps away from her, just in case. “Now,” the druid said, once she had taken a few calming breaths. “Tell us the tale. Plain and simple, please.” 

“Well, I never…” the golem huffed, before starting to frenetically dust the stinking heap of paper cartons lying on the floor.

“Nah, ‘s all right, Blighter,” Blaster said, shrugging. “Can’t blame them, really.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, like I said, there was a whole squadron of knights sent in here to investigate the Sphere when it landed in Solamnia, and Bummer and me were two of them.”

“He was the lowest ranking of the lot,” Bummer said, sneering rather nastily. “Even the knight in charge of the armor-plated vomit bags outranked him.”

”Yeah, well, he outranked you too, mate! And you got all hot and bothered about bein’ put in charge of the horse poop shoveling.”

“Organic waste disposal planning and implementation!”

“Whatever, Bummer, whatever.” Blaster shrugged. “So, we come in here, me an’ Bummer get separated from the rest by accident.”

“I was exercising my rights as a superior knight, arresting you for breathing in an annoyingly loud and deliberately disturbing manner!”

”We stumble across this room with this creepy dead guy, sitting in a chair with a lot o’ buttons and stuff all about it, see? He gets up and tells us he’ll kill us for ‘disturbing his research’. Then Bummer tells him that there’s a whole bunch of other knights coming behind us to kick his bony butt, and the dead guy just laughs and blasts him with a wand…”

“And _kills_ me,” Bummer said, sounding rather huffy. “Please do not neglect that trifling little detail, insignificant as it undoubtedly must seem to you.” 

“An’ kills him, only he turns into a ghost cause of all the negative energy floatin’ about that room. So, the dead guy just kind of goes poof in a lot of light and sparkles, and next thing we know there’s screaming. Not for long, he killed them fast, must give him that. Course, would have been hard for them to put up much of a fight, since they’d all just run into a pile of horse poop large enough to block the corridor.” 

Bummer looked morose. “It was a perfectly valid implementation of logic and practical engineering,” he muttered, “how was I supposed to know that the Shrinking Staves were to be pointed the other way around…what bloody morons sell magical items over mail order and don’t include a legible manual anyway?”

Anomen nudged Edwin’s side triumphantly. “Yours,” he said with a smug smile. “Clearly yours.” 

“The dead guy din’t bother with me though,” Blaster finished. “Not sure why, really.”

“Probably because he found you utterly inconsequential,” Bummer said with a smirk. “Paladine knows you are completely and totally unsuited for knighthood, since none of the skills premiered include ‘Belching I’m A Happy Squire’, eating your own toenail clippings, or having a curry breath strong enough to stun an ogre. Whereas I, of course, am a paragon of knightly virtue, and destined for a shining destiny of supreme splendor. Or I would be, if your incompetence hadn’t got me killed, and launched into space and the wrong dimension at that. Just look at the sheen of this armor, I ask you…”

Edwin shrugged at Anomen. “Yours. No doubt about it, monkey boy.” 

“So,” Zaerini said, trying to put all this together. “I guess that explains most of it. But who’s the third guy over there?” She nodded towards the dark-skinned man with the fangs, who gave her a very toothy smile in return, and winked.

“That’s Kitty,” Blaster said. “I’d brought my pet cat along, for a mascot, see, but the magical radiation of this place reacted a bit oddly over time…just be careful and not let him get too close if he’s purring, he’s not really used to females.”

Valygar was sitting hunched over, slowly rubbing his temples. “I thought the necromancers were bad…” he muttered. “I thought the necromancers were bad…”

Minsc patted his fellow ranger encouragingly on the head. “Friend Valygar should try not to think so hard about things,” he suggested. “When Minsc thinks too hard, his head always hurts, so Boo says I shouldn’t.”

The sound that emerged from behind the hands Valygar were holding against his face sounded suspiciously like a sob, but when he raised his head again, his face was dry. “Can we…please go kill Lavok now?” he said, and although his voice was tightly controlled, Rini thought there was a worryingly desperate look in his eyes. “Please?”

“Yeah…” she said. “Yeah, I guess so.” She turned to the lost knights, trying to ignore the fact that Kitty was purring loudly and staring very intently at both her and Jaheira. “So, can you tell us anything else about this place? What about those halflings I heard you mention?”

“Oh yeah, them,” Blaster said, and made a grimace. “Nasty little sods, the lot o’ them, would kill you soon as look at you. Guess the wizard picked them up on some other world, ‘cus they’re not from ours. This place is weird, stuff from different worlds and dimensions bleeds through. They’re worse than Kender, even. They do make a mean curry though; we’ve been raiding their storage rooms. Well, me and Blighter do.” He nodded towards the golem, who beamed with his entire square face. “He’s the only golem here who isn’t nuts, just let him clean and he’s happy.” 

“Oh yes, thank you, Mr Blaster, sir!” the golem chirped. “Speaking of which, do you have any more dirty underwear you’d like me to take care of?”

“You don’t want to stay around for that,” Bummer darkly said. “Last time he changed his underwear was…oh, what was it again…three months ago, I believe. Apparently, the Sphere’s system identified them as toxic waste the moment they made contact with the air, and the sprinkler system kicked in. It completely ruined my masterwork, my wonderful essay about the Art of War.”

“Ha!” Blaster scoffed. “I got a peek into that, ya know, and you’d only written ‘Shout Really Loudly’.” 

“Right,” Jaheira said in a decisive voice. “We should be going anyway; it would not do to keep Lavok waiting.” She resolutely rammed her elbow into Kitty’s nose, and he gave up his attempt to rub up against her and leapt away with a yowl. “Child?”

“Right…er…sure,” Zaerini said. “Let’s go, guys. Valygar, you all right?”

The ranger nodded at once, and positively leapt out the door. “Never better!” he proclaimed in a voice that was just a little too shrill. “We go! Now! Please?”

“Sure.”

_You go on, kitten_ , a purring voice said inside the bard’s head. _I want to stay a moment._ Zaerini turned to see her familiar slinking towards Kitty, arching her back and purring softly.

_You…but…no, you can’t mean…he’s not a cat anymore!_

_He’s cat enough._

_No. No, no, no and NO! You can’t mean…that’s disgusting!_

_What?_ The black cat innocently asked, even as she leapt onto Kitty’s lap, purring louder and louder. _I just want some help to wash this spot on my back – what did you think I was talking about?_

Zaerini just stared for a moment. She had seen a lot of things, but never before had she faced the sight of a man delicately licking a cat’s back. It wasn’t a moment she wanted to dwell upon. _Never mind. Just come when you’re done._

_Don’t wait up._

Still shaking her head, the bard stalked out the door after Jaheira, the rest of her friends following closely behind her. Almost at once, there was a bloodthirsty hollering sound, hideous shouting in a multitude of mercilessly shrill voices. It was followed closely by another sound, the sound of rattling spears, and it came from directly ahead. 

“Bring back a stack of curries would ya?” Blaster shouted from behind her. “I’m down to the last dozen already…”

Rini thought for a second or two. “So…” she said. “Ahead of us, we’ve got a large horde of hungry cannibalistic halflings who are armed and dangerous. And behind, we’ve got…you know. What do you guys think?”

And for once, there was not the slightest hint of bickering within the party, as they resolutely stepped forward, without ever looking back. As for Valygar, he didn’t just step, he ran. 

-*-

A few minutes later Valygar was walking grimly ahead, following the rest of the party along a dull military gray corridor, trying to forget all about the insane conversation he had just been subjected to. Far, far better to concentrate on what lay ahead instead. _Lavok. Lavok is close, and I’m going to kill him. And then…_

And then what? Assuming he survived the meeting with his ancestor, then what would he do? He didn’t know. _Go back to Imnesvale, perhaps. Finally, some peace and quiet, and absolutely no magic. Yes, that sounds about right._

“DEATH! DEATH! DEEEEAAAAATH!” 

The roar came from at least a dozen throats, and it sounder rather high and piping. The reason for this became apparent as the party turned the next corner and came face to face with a troupe of halflings. If it was anything they didn’t fit, it was the stereotype of halflings as ‘jolly’. These particular halflings had their teeth filed to sharp points, their faces were painted with red and blue warpaint, and they had nasty-looking bone necklaces hanging around their throats. As Valygar took a closer look, he saw that the round and hairy objects dangling from the leader’s belt were, in fact, shrunken heads. All of the halflings wielded sharp spears taller than themselves, and as soon as they had spotted the adventurers, they lowered them, preparing to attack. 

There was a ripple in the air around Zaerini, the light bent around her and her appearance changed. Suddenly, her head looked like that of a red dragon, with glittering scales and wicked orange eyes. She breathed out, and flames shot out towards the startled halflings, making them shy back. This distraction was enough, for it had bought the rest of the party the time they needed. Jan sent bouncing lightning from one halfling to the next, even as the fireball Edwin sent flying after them incinerated the rest. One of them just had time to turn around and fire an arrow in Valygar’s direction. The ranger blinked, knowing he wouldn’t have time to duck…he felt a cold chill down his spine and a crackling sensation inside his head…and the halfling was gone, engulfed in Edwin’s fireball and leaving only a pile of soot behind. 

“Yuck, burning halfling,” Zaerini said, wrinkling her nose. The illusion had dissipated, and she once more looked like herself. “Well done though, hopefully that will keep them from messing with us again.” 

“And even better,” Jan said as he examined the still smoking halfling bodies, “It heated up these boxes they were carrying quite nicely. Smells yummy, doesn’t it??”

Valygar had to admit it wasn’t too bad. A sharp smell, that brought tears to his eyes, it was nevertheless quite appealing. “That would be those ‘curries’ that the knights of Solamnia spoke of, he said.”

Zaerini nodded. “Yep. We should bring some back for them, I guess.”

“Ah, but surely not before we have a little taste ourselves?” Edwin said. “While I doubt it can compare to Thayvian cuisine, it does seem as if these halflings have at least a rudimentary grasp on the use of spices.”

“I’m with you there, Red,” Jan said. “I’m getting a bit peckish myself. Think they got any turnip curry?”

“It doesn’t say,” Anomen replied, as he examined the metal boxes that were giving off the tempting smells. “All it says is ‘mild’, ‘hot’, ‘extra hot’, ‘xxx’ and ‘vindaloo’. What is a ‘vindaloo’, I wonder?”

“Well, of course you wouldn’t know that, you ignorant simian!” Edwin scoffed. “Blissfully unaware of higher magic as you are, you wouldn’t have heard of the great Demon Lord Vindaloo, the master of heartburn! (One day I will conjure him myself…one day…)”

“If this food is demonic in origin then we definitely shouldn’t eat it,” Jaheira said. “We have some perfectly good rations with us. Dried bread, dried cheese, dried fish, dried meat, even some dried nuts if you want dessert.” Deep and reproachful silence met her, and she looked annoyed. “What?”

“But it smells so good…” Zaerini said, smiling appealingly at the druid.

“I detect no trace of any undead activity within,” Anomen helpfully added. 

“Boo says it’s sweet and juicy, tender and fresh and just hot enough!”

“There may be no turnips, but it smells as delicious as if it had been cooked by my cousin Martha Jansen herself, who was well known for being the best cook in the Realms, right up until she went to jail for trying to market the Jansen Diet. It was really very simple; the idea was that you could eat as much as you liked of whatever you liked.”

“Sounds brilliant,” Zaerini said. “What went wrong?”

“Well, nobody ever actually lost weight from it, but hey, it’s not as if Cousin Martha said they would. I say it was a miscarriage of justice, and that turnip containing a file that was smuggled into her cell had absolutely nothing to do with me.”

“Fine, fine,” Jaheira impatiently said. “Bring the boxes along, then. Now come, before more halflings appear.” 

More halflings did appear, and this bunch had a couple of mages along. The battle was quite a bit nastier than the first one, with the halfling mages casting several unpleasant explosive and paralyzing spells. “Such a shame they didn’t bring their spellbooks along,” Edwin complained as Jaheira was patching him up after the battle was won. “I would have liked to examine them.”

“Admitting there are nefarious magics you have not yet penetrated?” Anomen dryly said. “You are slipping, wizard.” 

“My penetrative skills leave nothing to be desired, priest,” Edwin sneered. “Unlike you I wasn’t drooling over those idiotic knights we encountered earlier. The scruffy one seemed to catch your eye especially.” 

“He…I…I did not drool! You will take that slur back at once or…”

“Stop it!” Zaerini snapped. “Both of you. Eddie, stop teasing him. Ano, stop picking fights. Both of you, why don’t you…have a curry or something.”

“She is quite right,” Jaheira agreed. “Do try to behave as adults for a few seconds, while Jan is scouting the next rooms.” 

The two men subsided into sulky silence, both of them practically pouting. They did eat the curry though, and although Anomen’s eyes were tearing, and Edwin’s face was quite red, they both wanted seconds. “It isn’t totally inadequate,” the Red Wizard grudgingly admitted. “You should try some, my Hellkitten, this red variant is especially tasty.” He held out a carefully selected morsel to his lover, who grinned and opened her mouth, letting him feed her. 

“Mmm…” she said. “You’re right, it is good. Nice and hot. Jaheira, want some?” 

Jaheira shook her head, and as the sole person present helped herself to a portion of dried bread, dried cheese and dried nuts. “Thank you, no,” she said. “I prefer not to have my sinuses scorched from within as I eat.”

“Very…spicy.” Anomen said, clearing his throat. “Good, though.” 

Minsc didn’t say anything. He was busy shoveling large gobs of curry down his throat, seemingly oblivious to any burning sensation. Oddly enough, Boo was digging in right next to him, only his furry little hamster bottom visible as he dove headfirst into a box of curry. _Strange_ , Valygar thought. _I never would have thought to see a hamster so eager for meat._

Though the curry was very tasty, he had to admit that himself, and it had been quite some time since breakfast. Wondering idly if by now his breath would be enough to vaporize Lavok, he barely noticed as Jan came back. 

“Er…hi there, everybody!” the gnome chirped. “Er…having a nice lunch, are we?”

“We are,” Zaerini replied. “Oh, and we’ve saved some for you, one of those boxes with the green wobbly bits in, and another one with long yellowish things. They both taste great.” 

“Er…good.”

“So, what did you find?” Anomen asked. 

Jan shrugged helplessly. “Well Ano, I think you’d just better come along and see for yourself, or I’d be put in the same situation as my uncle Cindy when he was caught by his wife, dancing in her best underwear with his hair dyed pink. Sometimes it’s best not to say anything at all, and you know I’m a quiet and reticent gnome who doesn’t like to just let his mouth run aimlessly when he can’t contribute anything meaningful to the conversation or when his charming anecdotes fail to amuse his audience.” 

“What?”

“Let’s go then,” Zaerini said. “I think we’re all full anyway.” 

Valygar went along, following the others down yet another long corridor, this one a uniform ocean gray. As he walked, he became aware of an itch along his sternum, and noticed a tear in the leather of his armor there. As he dug his fingers into it, he touched something cold and hard, and just managed to dig it out. _An arrowhead?_ So that halfing had managed to fire his bow after all and had even managed to hit him. It had clearly managed to pierce his armor. _Then why didn’t it harm me? I didn’t feel a thing._

But there was little time to muse on such things now, he decided. They had reached yet another round chamber, about as large as the one where they had met the Solamnian Knights. It looked much like a wizard’s laboratory, with several bookshelves and workbenches. Valygar’s hands clenched for a few seconds as he took in the all too familiar sight. _No. No time for this now._ There was a golem too, a large metal one, standing silently in a corner, its head hanging. Whatever it had been built to do, it wasn’t active at the moment. There was a large pile of empty curry boxes on the floor, and tiny clothing was lying about everywhere. It seemed that the halflings had been using the room for quite some time. There were also three doors, all of them closed. 

“So, what did you want to show us?” Anomen asked. 

Jan pointed at one door. “Well, that one is locked. I tried to pick the lock, but that won’t work. See?”

And as he touched the door, that bored voice once again spoke from nowhere, the voice they had heard as they first entered the Sphere. “Now what?” it said. “Oh. It’s you again. Go away, only the golem’s allowed to open this door.” 

“But the golem is dormant,” Jaheira said. “How are we supposed to activate it?”

“I forgot. It’s been quite some time in deep space, doing nothing but playing solitaire and Minesweeper with myself to make the time pass. That can crack anybody, you know. Forget my own name next.”

“And what is your name?” Anomen asked, and his voice sounded quite strained. 

There was silence. “Er…Hal? No, no, that’s not right…I don’t think. Anybody named Dave here?”

“No,” Jaheira patiently said. “There is nobody named ‘Dave’ here.” 

“Good for him, it’s a bad luck name. Then I guess I’m probably not Hal…I’m very sorry about having to do this, Dave.” 

“There is no Dave here! I’m not Dave! They’re not Dave! There is no Dave!” 

“Oh, I know that.” There was a quite chuckle. “Just pulling your leg. What a wheeze, eh?”

“Hilarious;” Edwin caustically said. “Now tell us how to activate that golem, you demented pile of nuts and bolts, before I dismantle you and play solitaire with your core parts.” 

“Told you, don’t know how to. The little halflings made it run though…say, any idea where they went to? They were a good laugh.”

“Ah,” Jan said, grinning feebly. “I was just getting to that part. You’ll all want to take a look at what’s behind door number two, I think.” 

Valygar was the first to open the door. Then, he stood on the threshold, staring silently. Somewhere behind him, he could hear somebody being violently sick. From the curses intermingled with the retching, he thought it was Edwin. 

This second door led to a storage room. It was quite cold, with ice forming on the walls. On the walls there were hooks. On the hooks there were…

_Still smiling, they’re still smiling, and they look almost happy…halflings…happy halflings…_

On the floor, there were more metal boxes. These ones weren’t empty. 

_And I had a second helping too._

“So…” Zaerini said in a kind of bright and brittle voice as she leaned against the doorpost. “Maybe, now that I think about it, some dried nuts wouldn’t have been so bad after all.” 

-*-

“It’s not as if we could have known,” Zaerini was saying a short while later, and she gave Valygar an encouraging look. “It was just an accident.”

“An accident. We have all engaged in cannibalism ‘by accident’.” I was cursed already. Will this mean a second one, I wonder? 

“Not all of us,” Jaheira said, smiling a slightly smug smile. “But the child is right, you did not know. There is no need to blame yourself.” 

Anomen, who had been kneeling on the floor, praying fervently, finally opened his eyes. “Helm at least has not turned his face away from me,” he said, and his voice was filled with relief. “I believe he understands that we were misled.” 

“Of course, he does,” Jaheira agreed. “Only a great fool would ever think any of you had done it on purpose.”

“Thank you, my lady,” Anomen said with a smile, bowing to the druid. “Your faith in me will inspire me to deeds which will purge my soul of this inadvertent sin, I am sure of it.”

“That’s not the kind of purging I would prefer,” Edwin muttered from his position on the floor, where he was curled up in a ball of misery, his head resting on his lover’s lap. “To think that such a thing should ever cross my lips. (If Auntie Poppy should ever hear about this, I don’t want to think about what she would say.)”

Minsc scratched his bald head thoughtfully. “Boo says we were eating little evil halflings. Is that true?”

“Well, yes,” Zaerini admitted. “Only by accident, mind you.”

“Oh, Minsc doesn’t mind so much. They were Evil halflings before, but now they’re filling the tummies of Heroes of Goodness, making us strong and sturdy to kick lots more evil butts!”

“Well…yes, I suppose so. Just don’t start eating everybody we kill, all right?”

“Not even Evil Red Wizards?”

“No! Absolutely not. And now I think we should we go on?”

“So we should, your Worship,” said Jan, who was sitting perched on the shoulders of the giant golem that was standing in the middle of the room. He was poking about inside the hole where its head should have been, pulling at what seemed to be a length of wire. “Now, I’ve examined this fellow carefully, and my Gnomish expertise eye for machinery tells me that he’s currently lacking…”

“An arm and a head,” Edwin commented, hauling himself to his feet. “Took you some time to notice those little details, did it?”

“Oh, and coal,” Jan went on, ignoring him. “Apparently this thing is powered by it, strange as it seems. We’ll need to feed the furnaces in the next room.”

“And I think I saw a golem arm lying about in one of the first rooms we passed,” Zaerini mused. “Serves me right…I should have known to pick it up, seeing that it was apparently worthless junk, it was bound to come in handy somehow. I’ll just go back and fetch it. Besides, I want to check on Softy. She’s been an awful long time.”

“Then I’m coming with you,” Edwin immediately stated. “There could be more of those curries…I mean halfings.” 

The bard winked. “Sure thing, Eddie. And maybe in the meantime, the rest of you could search this place for any spare heads? We won’t be long.”

It could have been Valygar’s imagination, but as the pair walked out, he thought he heard the wizard murmuring something that sounded like ‘we’ll just see about that.’

The remaining adventurers divided into groups, with Anomen and Jaheira getting to work on the furnaces, Jan keeping on his examination of the golem, and Valygar and Minsc foraging ahead in search of spare heads. Beyond the furnace room, there was a long and narrow corridor in scenic military gray. 

“You know, friend Valygar,” Minsc said as they walked along, “Boo says that you are not the same as before.”

Valygar turned his head to look into his fellow ranger’s round and innocent eyes. “Is that so?” he asked. _I couldn’t possibly guess what he means by that, but I’m sure I won’t like hearing it._

“Yes. But you don’t have to worry, it is not the Stench of Evil needing to be swept away by the Airfreshener of Heroism. Also, there is no spoon. Boo says you want to remember that.”

Valygar looked around. The corridor certainly seemed spoon free to him. ”Spoon?” he asked, and there was a slightly brittle edge to his voice. “What spoon?”

“Don’t be silly, there is no spoon,” Minsc sagely replied, patting him on the back. “Boo just said so, remember? But don’t worry about not seeing the full wisdom of Boo’s words in the same way I do. That takes practice.” 

“Right,” Valygar muttered. “No spoon. Practice. Of course.” He found himself trying to shake off the feeling that the world was just an insane illusion, conjured by some sinister creature for the purposes of cruel entertainment, and that the illusion was beginning to crack at the edges. _I need to get out here. It feels as if my mind is melting._

By now, the corridor came to an end in front of a stylishly ocean-gray metal door. Wishing to finish any cutlery-based small talk, Valygar quickly pulled it open, and then stepped inside. The room he entered was a round, prison-gray chamber, with a quietly humming metal pillar in the middle. Standing with its back to the pillar was a large golem. It was about half again as tall as Valygar himself, humanoid with angular, surly and vaguely elven features. It was wearing a black suit and had on a pair of dark-tinted glasses. As Valygar approached, there was an increase in the intensity of the buzzing sound, the door behind him slammed shut and the golem’s head turned towards him. It yanked a thick cord out from the socket in the back of its head. 

“Welcome to the Sphere, Mr Corthala,” it stated in a toneless voice. “You may call me Agent Rondel. Think you are the One, do you?”

“The one what?” Valygar suspiciously asked, placing a hand on the hilt of his katana. 

The golem was silent for a few seconds, processing this. “If you do not know, you will die,” it said. “But you are asking the wrong question. What you should be asking is ‘what is the Sphere’.”

“An interdimensional transportation device built by my insane and undead ancestor.” 

“Well, yes. That too. Not quite the answer I was looking for, mind. So, red or blue?”

“What?”

The golem gave him a look that was almost pitying. “Bit slow, aren’t we, Mr Corthala?” it asked. “If you go with ‘blue’, you will be cryogenically frozen and made to forget everything bad that ever happened to you, while you become nourishment for my constructor.” 

“Nice. And red?”

Agent Rondel’s mouth twisted into an unpleasant smile. “Then, Mr Corthala, we fight, and the walls of this chamber are painted red with what might be tastelessly referred to as your ‘crimson lifefluid’. Now…MAKE YOUR CHOICE.” 

Valygar smoothly eased the katana out of its scabbard and nodded briefly to the golem. “If you want my blood – then work for it.”

“Yes!” Minsc shouted, drawing his own sword. “Bad golem man is all half-baked, time to put him BACK IN THE OVEN!”

The Rashemani ranger charged heedlessly ahead, intent on slaughter, but his head was met with a rock-hard arm, thrust out too swiftly for a human eye to follow. There was a nasty ‘clonk’ sound, and the large man toppled to the floor with a grunt. He didn’t get up again. 

“Tut tut, Mr Corthala,” the golem said. “No interference. You and I alone, as it was meant to be.” It stalked towards Valygar, fists raised, and then it struck again. Valygar just barely had time to see a blur in the air before one of those iron fists hit his side and he was thrown hard against the wall. From the cracking noise and the intense pain, he guessed that at least one rib had to be broken. 

_Fast. He’s too fast. Can’t win._

But still, he had to try. What other choice was there? He raised the katana again, forcing himself into an attack. The golem sidestepped him with ridiculous ease and spun its leg out in a swift kick. Valygar grunted as his legs were swept out from under him, and he hit the floor. 

“You are not The One,” Agent Rondel scornfully said. “If you were, you would know how to meet my challenge blow for blow. You…you are a mere meatbag, fit only to be fodder. Now die.”

The golem raised its leg, preparing to stomp down hard on Valygar’s head, squashing it like a ripe fruit. Valygar looked up at him, expecting to die. _No! Can’t die…have to kill Lavok. Have to. I am the last._

And something burst open inside of him, something that had been lying in wait, curled up like a butterfly waiting to emerge from its chrysalis. It spread through him, infusing him with new energy. 

_Have to move. Have to move fast._

The world blurred around him as he sprang to his feet. Rondel’s foot missed him, cracking the floor open. The golem tugged at its leg, which had got stuck inside the hole it had made. 

“So,” it said, eyes narrowing. “You do know something, after all.”

No time to think. No time to wonder. Time only to react. Valygar dodged a blow that could easily have taken his head off, then another, and another, moving so swiftly that he nearly made himself dizzy. Another kick, and he leapt into the air, evading it. The two opponents circled each other, and now Agent Rondel’s smirk had been replaced by a scowl. 

“Good at dodging, are you?” it said. “Dodge this.” It raised its hand, and Valygar just had time to see a long, metal object pointing directly at his face before there was a deafening boom. Small, shiny metal objects were heading towards him, crawling through the air. Fast as he was, he knew there would be no time to avoid them. And then, he knew. 

_I don’t have to._

With utter calm, Valygar raised his hand, his palm towards the bullets. There was another surge, deep inside, a rush of joy that threatened to overwhelm him, and then a sound that reminded him of rain falling. Looking down, he saw the bullets pattering to the metal floor. All except one, that was. That one bounced against the force emanating from him and recoiled. Agent Rondel just had time to give Valygar a very surprised look before it buried itself deep within his left eye. There was a crackling sound, a shower of electric sparks, and the golem went down with a large crash. Moments later, Valygar sank to his knees beside his defeated opponent, his entire body shaking as the momentousness of what had happened began to sink in. The joy had passed now, leaving utter dread and revulsion behind. 

_That…was magic. I did magic. Mother…father…what have I done?_ He retched dryly, wishing he could rewind the past few minutes and…and do what? What else could he have done? _Magic. Oh mother…what have I become?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *glances at Valygar's sanity points* Well. I'm sure I can keep him going for a while longer! :D


	135. Corthala Business

**Cards Reshuffled 135 – Corthala Business**

_Winning is important, right? People like to win, and those who say differently lie. But sometimes, it’s only after you’ve won that the real battle begins._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“I found a head,” Valygar said in a toneless voice. 

Zaerini turned around to see the ranger leaning heavily against the wall. He wasn’t a reassuring sight at all. Not only was he bruised and bleeding, but he was holding a severed golem head by its patch of artificial dark hair. One of its eyes had been poked out, but the other glared glassily at her, and there were quite a few sparkling cords coming out of its neck. 

“Valygar?” she gasped. “What happened? And where’s Minsc?”

“Wounded. I patched him up as well as I could, but he needs a healer.” 

“I’ll go,” Jaheira said. “Anomen, take care of this one.”

“I don’t need…”

“Yes, you do. Anomen, move.” 

Valygar didn’t argue any more but sat down heavily to let himself be tended to, cradling the golem head tightly towards his chest. The look in his eyes was frightening, dead and glassy. 

“Valygar?” the half-elf asked again, feeling quite worried. “What’s wrong? What did that golem do to you?”

“It wasn’t the golem,” Valygar said, still in that dead, empty voice. “It was me. I…did…magic.” And finally, the whole story emerged, if slowly and haltingly. 

Once it was done, Rini ran her fingers through her tangled red hair, trying to make sense of what she had heard. It wasn’t that easy. Actually, it was damn hard. About as bad as having to disentangle Softpaws from the frustrated Kitty had been. 

_Spoilsport_ , her familiar hissed from ankle height, turning her bum towards the bard. 

_I don’t care how much you sulk, that much cream isn’t good for you. You’ll just get fat._

_Pffffft._

_And stop hissing! I’ve got to deal with Valygar here._

The disgruntled cat slinked off to hide under the workbench standing along the wall, and Zaerini turned her attention back towards the unhappy ranger. “Did anything like this ever happen to you before?” she asked. 

“Never. But I am a Corthala. Magic is in our blood; we have been mages for generations.”

“The potential is certainly there,” Edwin said, frowning. “Nothing even remotely approaching my own remarkable capacity for the Art of course, but it is there. Even so, many people who would be capable of learning magic go their whole lives without doing so. This…spontaneous sorcery is most distasteful if you ask me.” 

_Wow. Never thought I’d hear him and Valygar agree on anything._

“I don’t understand it,” Valygar said, hanging his head. “It just happened. It must be the Sphere. It must have somehow caused this.” 

“Certainly, this Sphere is a powerful device,” Edwin mused, scratching his beard. “The magical energies in here are quite strong, and your ancestor may well have counted on you coming here and planned for such an event. A truly powerful surge of magical energy, such as the Sphere launching, might well be enough to trigger this change in you.” 

_Yeah…or that weird Time Stop spell that Xzar and Nalia cast. Don’t think I’ll mention that though. It wouldn’t change anything, and I don’t want him to go after them with a meat cleaver or something._

“Can it be undone?” Valygar asked, and his voice was keen with desperate need. 

Edwin shrugged. “Spontaneous sorcery? I highly doubt it. It isn’t a learned skill like wizardry, it is merely something you do without thinking, much like a monkey scratching its swollen posterior to relieve an itch.”

“I’d say that Red is right,” Jan said. The little gnome was still perched on top of the golem and was industriously mounting the new head on its shoulders. “Oooooh…this is a beauty, isn’t it? Looks quite mean though.”

“Are you quite certain it will be safe?” Anomen asked. “That head belonged to the golem that attacked Minsc and Valygar after all.” 

“Oh, sure it’s safe, Ano. See, I’ve removed the flux-grabble and inversed the posterior klonk, leaving the superconductor of the tachyon stream open.”

“That,” Anomen replied, “Is all a load of nonsense meant to sound like an answer and make me stop asking further questions, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Jan said with a broad grin. “But it’s still safe, trust me. Anyway, as I was saying, you can’t just stop being a sorcerer if you are one. All you can do is learn to deal with it properly, unlike my poor dear Auntie Cissy.” 

“Jan…”

“Auntie Cissy was a sorcerer, you see, possibly because of Grandma Jansen’s long and mutually beneficial relationship with a dragon. The problem was that she had her heart set on being a hairdresser, and so she thought she should forget all about the sorcery. Bad mistake, that. There was this orc chief who went to Auntie to have his beard curled, you see, and a spontaneous lightning bolt from Auntie Cissy made sure that it was crisped rather than curled. The orc wasn’t too happy about that, as you can probably imagine, and swore revenge on Auntie. He wasn’t able to find her, sadly.”

“Sadly?” Zaerini asked. “Didn’t you like your aunt?”

“What a thing to say! I loved my Auntie Cissy; she was a true Jansen. But the reason I said ‘sadly’ was because of Auntie managing to turn herself invisible in the nick of time. The orc couldn’t find her, but because of her magic being so untrained, she never did turn visible again. She’s still around somewhere, she likes to stop by whenever we have houseguests in the hopes of getting to fix their hair for them. Sadly, most people find an invisible hairdresser a bit scary, especially when she wants to shave them. There’s just something about the sight of a razor floating in empty air by your neck, I guess.”

“Right…I guess I can see that.” Zaerini gave Valygar a look. The ranger was leaning against the wall, his eyes were closed, and his face was pretty pale. It didn’t seem as if Jan’s story had done much to cheer him up. “Val? He does have a point, you know? I know you hate magic and all that, but if it’s there you can’t just ignore it.” 

He shook his head briefly. “I cannot accept this. Having this…this thing inside me. But I will do what I have to, all the same. Lavok’s death, that is what matters. That is _all_ that matters.”

“Well…I suppose that has to do for now.” She wished she could have said something more, something wise and deep and compassionate; something to make him understand that magic could be wonderful, that it wasn’t a curse at all. Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of any such thing to say. She gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile. That would have to do for now. Hopefully it would be enough to keep him from falling apart. 

Jaheira and Anomen had indeed found the required coal and fed the furnaces, dealing with a number of pesky fire elementals who didn’t much fancy having their homes disturbed. Minsc had been fully restored to health, and now everybody was waiting for Jan, who was putting the final touches on the golem. 

“Almost there…” the gnome mused. “Say, if you like, I could probably put in a function that would make him double as a trash compactor.” He fiddled around inside the golem head some more. “All I have to do is connect this and that…or is that what would make him try to terminate all humans in the vicinity?”

“Just put it together,” Jaheira stated. “No extra additions.”

“Oh, if you’re going to be a big spoilsport about it…” Jan finally attached the head to the hulking metal torso, then started pressing buttons on the console behind him. There seemed to about a hundred of them, many of them flashing brightly in different colors. Rini hoped her friend knew what he was doing. Then again, none of the rest of them had any idea how to work the machinery at all. 

_We’ll just have to hope for the best, I guess._

A sudden shower of sparks erupted from the golem’s empty eye socket, and the other eye jerked suddenly open, staring back at the party members. The head turned slowly…then spun around in a complete circle. Throughout this, its face remained utterly expressionless, and if the head was confused at suddenly being attached to a different body than before, it did not show it. “Urrrrgh…” it simply said. 

“Ha!” Jan triumphantly exclaimed, jumping up and down with joy. “Told you I could do it! It’s alive, I tell you! It’s ALIVE! Well, at least mobile and upright. Try ordering it to do something.”

“Um…all right,” Rini said. “Hey, golem, stand on one leg.” 

The golem did so.

“Jump up and down!”

Again, the golem obeyed, making the floor pound each time it landed. 

“Hey, this is fun! Let me think, what should we do next…”

“What we came here to do,” Valygar said, interrupting her. The ranger seemed to have overcome his distress for now, and his jaw was set with steely resolve. “Golem. Take us to Lavok.” 

The golem simply stared at him. “Error,” it said. “Does not compute. Abort, Retry, Fail?”

“Kill Lavok!” 

“I do not understand that.”

Valygar glared at the golem, and his voice was tight. “What do you mean, ‘don’t understand that’? I told you to kill Lavok!”

“Invalid command.” 

“Ah, it is perfectly obvious what is going on here,” Edwin remarked, smiling smugly. “The wizard designed this golem, quite skillfully too, so obviously he would have made certain there were ways of ensuring its loyalty. Undoubtedly it is incapable of harming its master. Other commands should function well enough.” He pointed imperiously at the locked door that they had so far been unable to get through. “You! Golem! You will at once allow us access through this portal!”

“I do not understand the word ‘portal’.” 

“Oooh, Minsc knows!” Minsc said, clapping his hands with excitement. “It’s a game, to say the right words.”

“Yes, yes, you lumbering simpleton,” Edwin said, “now please leave this for those of us with a mental capacity exceeding that of their own navel fluff.”

“Silly Evil Wizard, you do this all wrong. Boo says only simple words work, because golem is simple now, with its head having been knocked off. Here, Minsc will show you how to play the game.” And he proudly held out the squirming Boo towards the golem’s blank face. “Open door!” he said, and then pointed at the door in question. 

The golem took two steps forward, raised its massive metal foot, and kicked the door in with a resounding crash, then clanked off down the dark corridor that could just be seen behind it. Its toneless voice could just be heard receding in the distance. “Intruder detected. Intruder detected. Red alert! Red alert!”

A blaring, pulsating noise sounded throughout the Planar Sphere, over and over again, at the same time that a large red light started flashing up in the ceiling, in time with the siren. 

“Well,” Jaheira calmly said, looking up at the flashing red light. “I do not know how any of the rest of you feel, but I have a bad feeling about this.” 

“RED ALERT! RED ALERT!” The voice of the golem was receding into the distance, but was still clearly audible, despite the wailing siren. Along the corridor ceiling, red lights flashed quickly. 

Zaerini felt her heart speeding up until it matched the rapid flickering. She was racing after the golem, her friends closely clustered around her, with no idea of what lay ahead. What she did know though, was that an ‘intruder’ couldn’t be a good thing, not with the Sphere stranded in the Abyss, and that if the golem failed in its task, she and her companions had best be ready to pick up the pieces. 

_How the heck did something get in? The door was locked, we couldn’t get out, so how did it get in? And what is it?_

Horrible visions of fanged and clawed monsters, flesh rending, implacable and bloodthirsty assaulted her mind. She tried to shoo them away, out of her head, but it wasn’t working very well. Especially since now she could hear something else, apart from the golem’s mechanical voice. Screeching. Inhuman, high-pitched keenings and chattering, coupled with the sounds of combat. And then she turned the corner and saw that her imagination hadn’t even come close to matching the horrific reality. 

The golem was locked in combat with something that vaguely resembled a giant insect. Certainly, it had six legs, four of which it was standing on, and the remaining two seemed to function as arms. There was a segmented body, which ended in a long and poisonous-looking stinger. There was a large head, without visible eyes, but with a very large mouth filled with sharp teeth. There were tentacles coming out of the mouth, tentacles that were trying to ram themselves down the golem’s mouth, but without much success. And where the creature had been wounded, green blood dripped to the floor, the previously smooth metal hissing and corroding. 

“That thing bleeds acid!” Jan shouted, pointing. “We’ve got to stop it, before the hull is destroyed!” 

“RAAARRRRGGGHH!” Minsc roared, brandishing Lilarcor as he rushed at the creature. “Nasty space bug, you check in, but sword make sure you not check out!” 

Lilarcor brayed with delight, burying itself to the hilt in the chitinous back. “Whooooooeeeeee! Just call me a +10 Sword of Spacebug Cleaving, sucker! Think acid can get this pointy thing, think again, they don’t call me a magical sword for nothing!” 

Jaheira grimly moved in behind the large ranger, casting some form of spell on him. Something to protect against acid, Zaerini hoped. Drops of blood had already splattered him, and she winced as she saw the blistered skin. Minsc didn’t seem to care though, he was already well into a berserker frenzy, beyond the point where he could even feel anything. 

Dimly aware of her friends around her, moving in for battle, she thought frantically about what to do. A flaming arrow streaked from her hands and struck the horrible thing, charring its exoskeleton quite badly. Edwin was pelting it with Magic Missiles, they were flying from his hands like a hailstorm. Valygar was aiding Minsc, with Anomen functioning as his healer much like Jaheira did for Minsc, staying just out of the creature’s range, and Jan was firing his crossbow over and over again, his fingers moving so fast that they seemed almost blurred. 

Between the adventurers and the newly assembled golem, the alien monster found itself hard pressed. This was its time to lay its eggs, and it had snuck onboard the Sphere during a previous stop for just that purpose. It had been hoping to encounter some juicy mammals who could function as unwilling incubators, and had dismissed the Solamnian knights as hopelessly inadequate, with barely enough of a central nervous system to keep themselves upright, much less to support the brood. And now that nice, sweet morsels had come on board, they had the bad manners to put up a fight. If not for the golem, it would have stood a better chance, but the mechanical warrior had no soft tissues to bite, hit very hard and was immune to acid. 

With an angry hiss, the alien leapt into the air, landed on the wall, and ran up it. A few more crossbow bolts and Magic Missiles struck it, and more acid dripped to the floor. Twisting around, the alien crammed itself into an open ventilation duct and fled, leaving its exhausted foes behind. 

“Oh crap,” Zaerini eventually said, giving vent to what they were all feeling. “Now what do we do?”

Anomen wiped the sweat off his forehead and stared up at the ventilation duct. “It looked fairly badly wounded,” he said. “But to count on it expiring on its own would seem foolhardy in the extreme.”

“Yes, but on the other hand I don’t think it would be such a great idea to crawl in there in a single file to search for it. Cramped like that we wouldn’t stand a chance.” 

“A fascinating creature,” Edwin murmured, with a somewhat vague smile on his lips. “Imagine if I had a few of those at my command..:”

“Imagine them breaking free and devouring your internal organs,” Jaheira said in a dry voice, and looked up from the work of cleaning her sword. “That thing was not of our world, but I could discern enough of it to tell you that it was more intelligent than it looked at first glance.”

“Ha! Edwin Odessseiron fears no mere insect, no matter the size. As for its relative intelligence, it is no match for mine, and that does not discourage me. Why, soon the Hordes of the Abyss itself will be mine to dominate, and then perhaps you will show me proper respect, druid.” 

“Not unless we all agree to let you summon demons,” Jaheira said with a small, but satisfied smile. “I do not think your teacher would be particularly impressed with you if you broke that promise, do you? Not to mention that I would break your spine.” 

“So,” Rini hurriedly said, hoping to prevent a fullblown shouting match, “I guess the best we can do for now is to go on. The sooner we find Lavok, the sooner we can get home, and then we can always seal the giant bug inside the Sphere or something.”

“Unwary travelers might stumble upon it, releasing the horror within,” Valygar said with a frown. 

“That’s their problem, isn’t it? We can always put up warning signs, I guess.”

“But…”

“Tell you what,” the bard went on with her most winning smile. “Let’s go kill Lavok now, discuss it later, all right?”

The ranger’s eyes lit up at the mention of his hereditary foe. “Yes,” he agreed. “Lavok. Good.” 

“There are some arcane symbols on the floor here,” Edwin remarked. “They imply a magically concealed door, but of course I will easily be able to open it, once I deduce in what order the runes need to be activated. I will merely consult my references; it should take me no longer than an hour.” 

“Or,” Jan said, pointing at another part of the floor, “We could just go down that hole.”

Zaerini walked over to take a closer look. There was indeed a hole, large enough for a person to fig through. Through the hole she could see another corridor, which was painted a sober tombstone gray. The edges of the hole were corroded, and still moist with acidic blood. 

“Well,” she said with a grin, “I guess that bug was good for something after all. Shall we?”

“There is one more door, over here,” Anomen said. “Should we perhaps explore that way first?”

“Yeah, good idea. If we don’t find anything over there, we can always jump down the hole later.”

The door wasn’t locked, and there was a short tunnel behind it, leading up to another door. “I hear something in there,” Jan whispered. “Sounds like machinery.” 

“At least there aren’t any signs of the giant bug,” Rini said in a low voice. “But I think I heard somebody moving about, so be ready for anything. We should…Val? What’re you doing?”

Valygar didn’t reply. There was a distant look in his eyes as he reached his hand out towards the door, and though he walked slowly, his steps were determined. “Yes…” he whispered to himself. “Yes, I hear you. I am coming.” 

The door slid open, and though there was no alien insectoid monster to be seen, the scene that met them wasn’t all that much more reassuring. They had entered a large, round chamber, that was dominated by a podium covered with peculiar consoles. Some of them were flashing with multicolored lights, and humming quietly, but most were dark and quiet. The room was illuminated by a dim green glow, that came from faintly lit panels along the ceiling, and there was a faint smell of ozone in the air. On the podium, a person stood, hunched down over one of the darkened consoles. Even despite the voluminous black robe he wore, he looked very skinny indeed. Then he turned around, and it became painfully apparent that the phrase ‘skin and bones’ had found a new representative. 

Most probably, the creature had once been a man. Certainly, it had a head, two arms and two legs. That was about all it had left though. Ghoulishly blue-white skin was stretched taut over hollow cheeks, the thin red lips were twisted into the rictus of a smile, and the nose was a mere gaping hole. Blank, dark eyes tried to focus on the party from beneath a mop of tangled black hair, and finally came to rest on Valygar. 

“You…” it whispered, and its voice was a sickly falsetto, trembling with a mixture of sorrow, desperation and desire. “The One. The Child. The One has come, at last. And now it begins.” 

Valygar stepped forward and walked calmly towards the horrible entity before him. “Yes,” he said, and there was not the smallest tremor in his voice. “Yes, Lavok. I have come for you.” His drew his katana, and his eyes were hard as he advanced on his ancestor. “And now…it ends.” 

Shields of moonpale light flared up against Lavok, and the ancient necromancer’s hands started moving with frightening speed as he cast a spell. Before she had the time to think, much less act, a towering creature made entirely out of writhing flames was bearing down on her. Arms of flickering flames reached for her, and she could feel the terrible heat beginning to blister her skin as the fire elemental advanced. 

_Close combat, bad idea. Standing still to cast a spell, even worse idea. Running? Good idea._ She reached deep inside, drawing forth the power of Bhaal, and she shifted into her alternate form. From the perspective of a small red cat, the fire elemental looked huge, but at least this way it should be easier to dodge it. She leapt aside, skidding along the slippery floor on shaking paws, but although the fur on her tail smelt burnt, at least her hide was intact.

_Hurry, hurry, hurry. But where to run?_

Getting the sense of a battle wasn’t exactly easy when you were this small, but she dared a quick look around her. The ground was going up in flames, and her friends were scrambling to get out of the burning area. The only one who didn’t seem to be the least bit bothered by this was Valygar, who kept steadily advancing on Lavok. He was forced to make a brief pause though, as four shambling ghouls materialized in a circle around him. The stench of rotting flesh was strong in her nostrils as she dove between the legs of one of them, darting through the circle.

A confused roar rose from the throat of one of the ghouls as the fire elemental careened into it, and there was a large cloud of very smelly steam. When the bard retook her normal shape on the other side of the room, two ghouls were burning merrily on the ground, one was shuffling around trying to gather up its severed arms, and Valygar was busy decapitating the fourth and last. As for the fire elemental, it shrieked as a vast cone of freezing wind struck it, courtesy of Jan. When the miniature blizzard cleared, the elemental was a tiny pile of coal. 

Hurriedly, the bard cast a simple Magic Missile, hoping that she’d be wrong about those shields. But no, the spell pinged harmlessly off against the shield, doing no damage at all. _At least it wasn’t a reflecting shield, that’s something._

Minsc was roaring with berserker fury, stabbing again and again at the necromancer, but Lilarcor was no more successful at getting through the magical shields than magic had been. Somewhere behind, she could hear Edwin finishing a spell of his own, and there was a second fire elemental, this one coming for Lavok, hissing and spitting. The necromancer flinched – while physical attacks could not harm him, it seemed the elemental’s fiery aura was at least doing him some damage. 

Baring her teeth in a growl, Jaheira moved in towards Lavok’s right flank, pausing only briefly to pass a hand over her scimitar in a graceful arc. When the motion ended, small flames were licking the blade, and now the necromancer’s lifeless eyes were filled with apprehension at last. Anomen raised his arm, and the Flail of Ages struck home, adding its own elemental damage, making the necromancer flinch. Rini grinned, drawing her bow. A ghostly arrow flew straight and true, piercing the shield. While the necromancer was still protected against having his flesh harmed, the arrow’s enchantment still seared and burned him, and now the shields winked out, depleted at last. 

But Lavok wasn’t nearly ready to give up. Flinging a claw-like hand out he cast another spell, his pallid face twisted with fury. Zaerini felt her movements slow to a crawl…the world had suddenly turned to sluggish taffy, and she was about as swift as a drugged slug. Even worse, she wasn’t the only one. Her friends were slowed as she was, and now Lavok was raising his arms again, his voice rising and falling in a rhythmical cadence that was horribly familiar. 

_Horrid Wilting. If that goes off, we’re dead. Have to…move…_

Impossible, trapped, caught in a snare. No way to fight, no way to flee, able only to stand and die. 

Wait. Something moving, something she could barely glimpse at the corner of her eye. A dark shape, moving steadily and with purpose. Valygar. He wasn’t as swift as he had said he had been when fighting the golem, but he was swift enough, and the air around him was filled with the unmistakable tang of strong magic. 

_Speed spell…he must have cast it just in the nick of time. Go Val, go!_

Valygar didn’t speak. He didn’t smile, or taunt. He simply came on, heading for Lavok the way a piece of iron filing is drawn towards a magnet. The necromancer’s black eyes widened, and the shriveled red mouth moved faster as he desperately tried to finish his spell in time. He was almost finished…only a few syllables more…

And Lavok looked down upon the katana piercing his chest, clutching desperately at the sharp blade that had embedded itself within his flesh and penetrated all the way through his back. He went down on his knees, still clinging to the sword. “You…” he whispered. “You are The One. A true Corthala.” 

“Yes,” Valygar said, his voice as heavy as lead. “Yes, I am.” 

The slowing spell finally broke, and as Rini approached, she could easily see why. On Lavok’s pale and wrinkled skin dark blotches were appearing…almost as if he were decomposing before her eyes. 

“Dead soon…” the necromancer whispered, and his voice was almost inaudible. “Dead at last. Thank you.”

“Thank you?!” Valygar spat, and now he sounded truly angry. “You thank me? What do you think this is, wizard? Some kind of game? Do you even know what you have done? To me? To all the Corthalas before me?”

Lavok closed his eyes for a moment, but then looked at his descendant again. “I know…” he whispered. “I sought the stars…sought power. And I found it…it found me.”

“What did?”

“It. Outside our stars.” He coughed, spitting out gobs of black blood. “Things beyond the mortal mind. It found me. It took me. And now…it is gone.” The unnaturally red lips twitched into a feeble smile, and the glassy eyes were moist with tears. “I am free.”

Valygar bent over the dying necromancer. “You expect me to forgive you?” He said in a low voice. “Just like that? After everything you did?”

“No…” Lavok whispered. “No, I don’t expect that. But…there is one thing. The Sphere…it is stranded here. I will aid you. I will tell you how to start and steer it, how to bring us home.” He coughed again. “It has been so long. If you can, will you let me see our own sun and sky one more time?”

There was a long silence. None of the other party members spoke, and Rini was sure that they all felt as she did. This was Corthala business, Valygar’s choice to make. She had no idea at all what she herself would have done. 

“Tell me,” he said. “Then, we will see.”

-*-

“So,” Jaheira said a while later. “A demon heart. Just that. As simple as can be.”

“Well,” Zaerini said with a quick grin, “this is the Abyss. They shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

“That is not the point, child, and you know it well.” 

Rini looked around, inwardly conceding that Jaheira had a point. This wasn’t exactly the kind of place she would have chosen to go hiking in, had she had a choice about it. Behind, the dusty gray shape of the Sphere, their only safe refuge, looked worryingly small and distant. 

The ground was cracked and dry, with deep fissures spewing bubbling lava here and there. Above, the sky was a swirling vortex of red clouds, and if there was a sun, it was nowhere to be seen. 

“The wizard could have lied, you know,” Jaheira went on. “I would not consider him the most trustworthy of people.”

“I guess he could, but I don’t think he did. And if he did, Valygar’s back there to take care of him.” Zaerini frowned. “Then again, if that becomes necessary, I guess we all might be dead. So yeah, I know what you mean. But what should we have done? Kill him?”

“It would have been a prudent course of action,” Edwin agreed. “Then again, while I could undoubtedly manage to deduce the inner workings of the Sphere, it might take even my gargantuan mind some time, so the ramblings of this insane necromancer might prove useful. Not to mention that his equally deluded descendant is currently out of our hair, playing nursemaid to him. (Thank Kossuth that I come from a more stable family environment than that.)”

“That is no good at all!” Jaheira protested. “With Valygar keeping an eye on Lavok to make certain he gets up to no mischief, we have one person less to help with the hunting of demon hearts.” 

“Ah, but surely we will fare well on our own,” Anomen said with a smile. “Come now, my lady, we have faced and conquered many foes to this day, and there is no doubt in my mind that we will triumph once again.”

The druid simply snorted at that. 

“Oh, the glory of awaiting battle!” Minsc said, skipping merrily along with Boo perched on his shoulder. “Boo says that we can gain much honor in this place, but that if we see a very big demon with two monkey heads, we should leave it for him.”

“Monkey heads?” Edwin asked. “As in Demogorgon, prince of demons?”

“Boo did not mention the name, but his tiny hamster teeth itch for blood.” 

“Well, that should be an entertaining spectacle to watch, at least. (I wonder if it would be possible to magically record the event for later watching?)” 

“Uh, guys?” Jan suddenly said. “These demons we’re hunting, to jumpstart the Sphere with, would they be about as large as a horse, with fangs and claws, and tentacles coming out of their shoulders?”

“Sounds about right,” Rini agreed. 

“And would they have weird glowing eyes, and batwings, and spikes along their backs?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me. Why?”

“Well, there’s one of those perched on that ledge right above us, you see. Don’t like to interrupt you, but I just thought I’d mention it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bad news - there is now an Alien in the vents. Good news - I'm sure somebody will find it eventually!


	136. Heritage

**Cards Reshuffled 136 – Heritage**

_There’s one thing that quite a few, if not all, sentient beings have in common. You try to protect your offspring at all costs, so that at least a little of you lives on after you’re gone. Of course, my sire had the exact opposite idea, but that’s not a big surprise._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Zaerini slowly raised her head, looking up. Yes, Jan had unfortunately been quite right. There was a demon perched on the cliffs just above the path where the party was walking. It was mostly humanoid, although much larger than a human, with dark red skin and leathery batwings. Along its neck and back black flames hissed and crackled endlessly, and it had so many teeth in its mouth that she wondered how it managed to eat without biting its own face off. 

_No, no, no. Don’t want to think about that thing eating…_

In one clawed hand, the demon held a sword almost as tall as she was and decorated with faintly glowing runes. In the other, it held an equally nasty-looking barbed whip, and as its burning eyes met hers, she thought she could see the reflection of her face in them, screaming in torment. 

“A Balor…” Edwin whispered, drawing closer to her. “One of the True Tanar’ri, the greater ones. We want to handle this cautiously, my Hellkitten.” 

The bard simply nodded, her eyes not leaving the Balor for a second. _And we’re supposed to get that thing’s heart? Thanks, Lavok, thank you so much._

A strung gust of wind swept her almost off her feet as the tanar’ri rose into the air, wings beating furiously. It landed neatly on the ground in front of them, its eyes never leaving the half-elf’s face. 

“A Child of Bhaal…” it murmured, then grinned, baring dozens of razor-sharp teeth. “If you have come to claim your sire’s throne, then you are about 666 levels too high. Not to mention that it isn’t entirely…free at the moment.”

“What do you mean?” Rini asked, feeling as if her tongue had been glued to the roof of her mouth. Conversation with a Balor really wasn’t something she had ever wanted to engage in, but pitched combat with a Balor seemed an even worse idea. _I know there are small tanar’ri, why couldn’t we have run into one of those instead?_ “Sarevok is dead – has one of my other siblings become God of Murder already?” _No…no that can’t possibly be true. Even if for some weird reason the winner didn’t want to kill all the rest of us, I’d still know, I’m sure of it._

“Not quite,” the Balor said, smirking. “No, not quite, though the Five are doing their best.”

“The five what?” 

“Never you mind, young one. Never you mind. You have grown since the part of Bhaal that is within your essence left your sire’s realm, but you aren’t nearly strong enough to be a serious contender yet, and now you never will be.”

It licked its lips, or what was visible of them through all the teeth, and the flames along its back leapt higher. “Come to me, Child of Bhaal,” it hissed. “Come to me, and I will reunite you with your father.” 

-*-

The walk was a long one, and an arduous one. He no longer needed food, or drink, or even sleep, but that did not stop this imitation of his body from craving such things. Sarevok paused, sat down on an outcropping rock, and thought about what to do next. 

The torments were over for the moment, or so it seemed. Tamoko had come to him more than once, as had Winski. The warrior closed his eyes, not entirely sure if he wanted to push those memories away, or cling to them. Painful as it had been to be confronted by them in this way, these were the visions of people he…

A roar in the distance interrupted his thoughts, making him raise his head sharply, golden eyes gleaming predatorily in the semi-darkness. There it was again, and now there were other sounds as well. Shouts and battle cries, the clang of metal and thunder of magic. 

So. There was a battle. Sarevok smiled a grim smile, and headed that way, long legs closing the distance quickly. He did not know who was fighting, and he didn’t much care. Already his blood was boiling and his muscles aching for the chance to join in. 

_Too long have I wandered alone here, been prodded and poked. Enough is enough._

An imitation of his old sword suddenly flashed into existence in his hand, at the same time as his old and beloved armor appeared to encase him in reassuring spiked steel. Sarevok did not pause to question it. This was the Abyss, and he had experienced stranger things by far here. Yet, it told him something important. _I am being prepared. I am meant to be here._ And then he crested the last hill and knew that he had been entirely right about that. 

A very large Balor was menacing a group of six people, four of whom he knew. One he knew very well…oh, very well indeed. The two strangers he gave a mere cursory glance. A bearded gnome, currently held immobile by some form of paralyzing spell, and a Helmite priest who was doing his best to rain down holy fire on the angry demon despite bleeding so heavily from a gauged leg that he seemed about to fall over at any moment. 

Sarevok’s gaze turned towards other, more familiar faces. There was the bizarre ranger, his eyes wild with berserker fury as he thrust his large sword into demonic flesh. He too was bleeding from many wounds but did not even appear to notice. The druid, ah yes, he remembered her too. One of those meddling Harpers…surely his little sister would never have survived her early days of adventuring without those. He smiled a small smile behind the protective faceguard of his helmet, not quite knowing if he wanted to kill or salute the druid for that. She was on the ground, not visibly wounded but quite unconscious, so either way he was in no hurry. The wizard was still standing though…his little sister’s lover. Such a strange thought, that. _He had best treat her in the manner befitting a possible future goddess, if he knows what is good for him._

And there she was, his little sister. Her slim form was darting back and forth as she struck at the Balor, then dodged out of the reach of its claws again to cast a spell. The demon was wounded by the combined efforts of the adventurers, but it wasn’t weakening, not by far. It raised its left arm, and the long whip hissed through the air, wound itself around the waist of the half-elf and drew her closer, straight into the fiery aura. She screamed with surprise and pain, trying to break free, and he was moving, charging like an enraged bull, past all thought and reason. 

-*-

The pain was unimaginable. Rini didn’t want to scream again, but the cry tore itself out of her throat all the same as her flesh was seared and blistered. She clawed like a mad beast at the eyes of the Balor, her fingernails digging deep into one of them. Something warm and sticky dribbled down her hand, and the demon roared with pain but didn’t let go. Instead it started squeezing her closer, and she knew that it meant to crush her to death if she didn’t burn first. It hurt, oh it hurt, it hurt so much, and she wriggled and kicked, conscious of nothing else. 

Then, there was a sudden jerk, and she was tumbling to the ground, dropped by the Balor’s suddenly nerveless claws. She huddled there, vaguely aware of the hulking shape of the demon towering over her, and then came a thick and wet ‘thud’ as its severed head landed between her feet, its remaining eye glazed over in death. The massive body crumbled to the ground, black blood oozing from the terrible wound in its neck. 

Zaerini looked up through pain-hazed eyes. There was something else standing there, right behind where the demon had stood. Something large…very large. Something with eyes like fire. _Another one?_ It bent down over her, and there were no wings, no tentacles or fangs. A dark helmet, horned frightful, but she could see the eyes behind it, eyes the same color as hers, tanned skin and strong features. 

“Sarevok…” she whispered, not quite knowing if she was awake or asleep, or even dead, but quite sure of what she was seeing. 

He bent closer, kneeling by her side, and a gloved hand smoothed her sweaty red hair out of her face. “Aye, little sister,” the familiar deep voice sounded from within the helmet. “It is I.” 

“Am I dead? Will I die?”

“You will live. You must. You and I are not finished with one another yet.”

_I killed you…you forced me to. I thought that was about as ‘finished’ as you could get with a person. But…I guess not._

She didn’t think she had said that out loud, but he responded as if she had, all the same. “This is the Abyss, but it is not the time, not the place…yet you and I will meet again, I know it. I know it in my soul. We will face each other, and do battle one last time, and that battle will determine all.” A faint smile, partially mocking, partially almost tender. “Rest easy, little sister. I will be waiting for you.” 

“Sarevok! Sarevok, no! Don’t go!” She thrashed and screamed, the pain returning in full force now, and tried to blink tears of pain away so she could see better. And there was a face floating above her, so familiar and beautiful to her eyes, and dark eyes looking down on her, filled with desperate concern. Arms holding her so gently that it almost didn’t hurt at all. I must be bleeding all over his robes too… “Eddie…”

“Hush,” he said, his mouth tightening. “Don’t talk, you must rest. (If those lazy healers don’t move their fat posteriors off the ground and get to work, I will personally curse them with everything from pubic lice to bad body odor!)”

“Cease your insults, wizard,” Anomen said, appearing behind Edwin’s shoulder. “I had to close my own wound first, or I would have collapsed on top of her. Now move aside and let me do my work.”

Edwin reluctantly complied, but he didn’t let go of her hand, and she clung gratefully to it as the healing spells washed over her like soothing cool water, easing the pain and healing her burns. Finally, she was able to sit up, still feeling rather weak and dizzy, but mostly all right, and she rested her head against her lover’s chest as he embraced her tightly. Softpaws was curled up on her lap, nudging her encouragingly with her nose. “Thanks, Ano,” Rini said, managing a faint smile. “How is everybody else?”

“The lady Jaheira was struck by a debilitating spell, but she is now fully recovered. As for the rest, some minor wounds, but nothing of any concern.” The priest passed a weary hand over his forehead, and sighed. “You are in need of some rest now, my lady. A healing such as the one you had to undergo is a drain on a person. Fortunately, we have what we came for, and may return to the Sphere.” 

“Oh. The demon heart. Yes, I suppose we do.” 

“It was very impressive for you to slay a Balor in that manner, my Hellkitten, tearing its head off like that,” Edwin murmured into her ear. “And try not to do it again any time soon, unless you wish even the nerves of the imperturbable Edwin Odesseiron to be frayed into small ribbons.”

“What? But…it wasn’t like that…” She grasped the cloth of his robe tightly, holding his gaze. “Eddie…I saw him. Sarevok. He was there.”

He looked at her in blank incomprehension for a moment, and then gave her an encouraging smile. “I saw nobody but you – but you were badly wounded, it is no wonder that you might have been seeing things.” His embrace tightened just a little bit. “Never fear, that armor-plated goon is long since demised, and even if he were not, I would never allow him to threaten you.” 

Zaerini didn’t reply, but simply let herself be held. It felt so good, so safe and warm, just what she needed at the moment. Yet, she knew that her lover was mistaken. 

_I know what I saw. Sarevok was there, and I know he was telling the truth. One day, we will meet again._

-*-

Following the target had seemed like such an excellent idea at first. When he had been informed by one of his spies that he had been double-crossed by a certain redheaded half-elf, Tolgerias the Cowled Wizard had been quite vexed indeed. He had spent a considerable amount of time and money on planning the death of Valygar Corthala, and he wasn’t about to give up yet, oh no. 

Still, getting at the ranger would prove difficult while he was with a party of trained adventurers. So Tolgerias had thought of another, even more cunning plan. Simply follow Valygar, who was bound to be drawn to the Sphere by the power in his blood, follow him inside, and then wait for the proper time when the power of the Sphere might be usurped. With that power on his side, nobody, not even a descendant of Lavok himself, would be a match for him. 

A carefully woven spell of invisibility had disguised Tolgerias and his young apprentice, Diamandia Harrietta Celebrian Oregano Insidious Toffee. Despite her unfortunate name, the girl promised to turn out as a relatively decent Cowled Wizard, apart from her little…oddities. 

_I really wish I knew what possessed them to accept an exchange student from Rasheman in the first place. Those special spells that the Wychlaran possess work only on Rasheman soil, so it’s not as if she could actually give us anything in exchange, is it?_

“And do you think they will come soon?” the girl said, as if in response to his thoughts. Though the spell cloaked her entirely, he could easily visualize her. A tall and rather pale girl, with shoulder-length brown braids and cool gray eyes. He supposed she could well be counted as pretty, if you liked the type, but Tolgerias preferred plump blondes and was duly uninterested. 

“Yes,” he curtly replied. “And you will address me as ‘Senior Wizard Tolgerias’, young lady.”

Tolgerias didn’t even need to see the minute curtsy and the demure smile on the girl’s face. He knew they were there, and he did not trust them one inch. “Of course, Senior Wizard Tolgerias,” Diamandia said, and her voice sounded perfectly sincere. “And when they arrive?”

“Then we evaluate the situation, and strike if our position is favorable enough. We are outnumbered, I had not expected those fools to launch the Sphere so soon. However, we are still quite capable of dealing with them, if we can take them by surprise. We want to keep them from dispelling our shields, so target their mages first, if possible.”

“One of whom is a Red Wizard,” Diamandia murmured. 

“Yes. But you will not let your national enmity impede your judgment – kill him quickly and waste no time on taunts or boasting.” 

There was the impression of an almost imperceptible shrug. “Of course, Senior Wizard Tolgerias. I have no wish to overstep my bounds, I assure you.” 

“Good.” Tolgerias fell silent again, wondering not for the first time if he had made a mistake in bringing her. But she was capable, the most capable of the younger mages, and he hadn’t dared trust in the seniors who were almost bound to try to stab him in the back at their first opportunity. Whatever it was Diamandia wanted from the Cowled Wizards, it was not a position among them, so that was one less reason for her to betray his less than legitimate involvement with the Sphere. 

Tolgerias mentally ticked off spells in his head, wondering whether they were optimal for a battle against a group such as the one he would soon face. _Summoning spells would be a nice distraction for spellcasters, as would a Cloud Kill or two. Nothing like watching them choke on their own words. And a Death Fog too, I think, the acid should work wonders._ A Web or two to keep the warriors off him, yes, and if Diamandia could apply one of her special charm spells it would be perfect. The girl seemed to be a natural enchantress, easily ensnaring the minds and souls of even quite strong-willed opponents when she had been tested. 

The spot was well chosen for an ambush too, in a room on a sublevel, close to the engines. Corthala’s group would have to come here sooner or later, if they wanted the Sphere to fly again, and then Tolgerias would be waiting. There was only one door leading into the room, with a narrow corridor outside it that would force them to stick close together. _Ripe for the picking._

There was a faint scraping sound nearby, and Tolgerias silently motioned for his younger colleague to lay low. Both of them made a rapid hand gesture, triggering the previously prepared spells of invisibility that had been set to go off without any spoken words. The Cowled Wizard waited, forcing himself not to tense up. Why were there no voices? And no further footsteps? 

_They must be sending in a rogue to scout the premises, perhaps even under an invisibility spell of his own. Well, we will soon see about that._

Now with a faint smile on his lips, Tolgerias started chanting another spell. Not one that would break his cover, oh no. Not just yet. But a True Sight would ensure that the rogue would be as exposed as an elephant in a ballroom, and far more helpless. The wizard finished his incantation, thrilling at the rush of magic through his body, and he felt his mind expanding, opening itself up like a flower turning towards the sun, seeing new things. Seeing…

“Ack…” Tolgerias croaked, staring at the monstrosity towering above him. It was wounded and bleeding, its blood hissing when it hit the floor, but still in full possession of a large array of nasty teeth and claws. And though it didn’t have a face as such, somehow it managed to convey an expression of extreme anger. More acid blood dripped from the edge of the ventilation duct through which it had entered the room.

His brain feeling as if it had turned into frozen jelly, Tolgerias somehow managed to cast the first spell that came to him. He immediately realized the fatal mistake he had made in calculating the distance, but by then it was too late, as red clouds of searing acid filled the room. Already it was scorching his skin and turning his throat to raw meat as he accidentally inhaled. The creature, on the other hand, simply hissed and grabbed him by his robes, raising him towards its gaping maw. 

Vaguely, and from a great distance, he could hear Diamandia yelling something, and see the flash of a teleportation spell, but he was hardly in a position to pay her much attention. Tolgerias the Cowled Wizard opened his mouth to scream, and a thick tentacle rammed itself down his esophagus, throbbing and pulsating as it slithered down and down, then deposited a small cluster of alien tissue deep within the grooved wall of the wizard’s stomach. 

The creature didn’t smile, but in its own way, it was content, knowing that it had found a suitable host and was soon to have an important biological function fulfilled, one of the primary ones. 

Nutrition. 

Elimination. 

And reproduction. 

-*-

“Funny it should end like this…” Lavok the Necromancer wheezed, then turned around to cough up a few lumps of hastily decaying flesh. “I knew the One would come at last; my auguries had warned me of it. I just didn’t know exactly what would happen when he did.” 

“Be silent, wiz…” Valygar started, and then he bit back the word, making a grimace. 

Lavok nodded, eyes glinting up at the ranger from the hollows sunken deep within his pasty flesh. “Yes…you are starting to see it, aren’t you? I thought you would. You are a Corthala, after all.” 

Valygar had to suppress a brief and dark impulse to throttle the dying man, but he managed to retain his composure. “I will never be a wizard,” he said in a flat voice. “Corthala or not.” 

Lavok didn’t answer at once. He simply looked thoughtful; his eyes very distant. His breathing was growing heavier, Valygar noticed, and he hoped his ancestor wouldn’t die on him just yet. _Only he knows how to launch the Sphere again, after all. And…no. Foolish thoughts._

“No,” the necromancer eventually said. “I suppose you won’t. Wizardry requires deliberate studies, after all, and what you happen to have is something entirely different.”

“I won’t be a sorcerer either!” Somewhat too late, Valygar realized that he was sounding a bit like a petulant child, and from the indulgent little smile on his long-hated ancestor’s face he was sure Lavok could hear it too. 

“You will be what you will be,” Lavok simply said. He closed his eyes for a while, breathing more slowly, before opening them again. “You were born with certain gifts, and what you do with them is your own choice. Scary thought, isn’t it?” 

“Are you mocking me?”

“No. I know how frightening it is. I made all the wrong choices, you know that.”

Valygar thought carefully before asking his next question. “Can this…power…be removed?”

Lavok blinked. “Possibly,” he said. “It is possible to cut off a man’s hands, or to poke his eyes out, so why not. Would it make you happy?”

The ranger blinked. That wasn’t the question he had expected at all. “Happy?” 

“I thought the Sphere would make me happy,” Lavok mused, no longer looking directly at his descendant. “And the power…I thought that would make me happy too. Instead, I ruined everything, including my family. I feared death, old age, the future, and I grasped what I could in order to secure it, you know.” 

“Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should,” Valygar cut in, the familiar anger rising again. 

A shadow of a smile curled the necromancer’s red lips. “Exactly. Think carefully, Valygar Corthala, before you act. Do not repeat my mistakes. Do not be ruled by greed or by fear. I’d like to think that the generations have bred a wiser man than myself…”

Lavok closed his eyes again, his breathing now getting more and more shallow. Occasionally there would be a brief pause in it, and Valygar would think him dead at last, but then it would start again. Still, he did get the feeling that the pauses were getting longer. 

Assuming he did return home alive and in one piece, what would he do? Where would he go? He had fully expected Lavok to try to vehemently convince him to grasp the sorcerous power lurking inside him, but that hadn’t happened. 

The old and horrible memories welled up inside of him. His mother, locking herself in her laboratory for days on end, forgetting to eat or to sleep. Forgetting that she had a husband, or a son. He remembered sitting outside that locked door, crying. Alone. 

His father…a shambling horror, raised from the dead by a woman whom grief had driven out of her mind. 

His mother again, having followed her beloved husband into horrible undeath. And Valygar himself, a boy not quite yet a man, standing there with a dripping sword in his hands. Two shapes on the ground before him, moving no longer. 

_Do not be ruled by greed. Do not be ruled by fear. Do not become another Lavok._

Valygar raised his head, blinking fiercely to clear his sight. 

_I will not repeat his mistake._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so Tolgerias gets a nice, warm facehug.


	137. Collision Course

**Cards Reshuffled 137 – Collision Course**

_Some things are just meant to be, like chocolate and vanilla, or rainbows. Other things, such as elaborate and highly expensive constructs floating around in space, clearly aren’t. If they were, the gods wouldn’t allow them to get damaged as much as they do, I’m sure._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Well, that’s that,” Zaerini said, with a big sigh of relief. She carefully placed the still warm and slippery demon heart on top of the three-pronged pole that stood in the center of the Planar Sphere’s engine room. Around her, the engines came alive, humming steadily with newfound power. 

Getting this far hadn’t been easy at all. After the death of the demon, her group had fought its way past what felt like about a dozen large and very nasty golems in order to get into the engine room. More than once it had been a close call. 

“Good thing the walkways of this place were too narrow for the golems to move about with ease,” Jaheira remarked, surveying the big hunks of currently lifeless metal. 

Rini nodded. At the end, they had been saved by the golems’ single-minded devotion to their guard duty, which had caused them to pile up behind each other in a narrow space. All of them had become stuck, easy pickings for her enchanted arrows, and for Edwin’s and Jan’s miniature meteors. “Yeah,” she said. “Wouldn’t have wanted to face them on open ground, that’s for sure.”

“They are powerful guardians,” Edwin remarked, “Yet being mechanical they lack true intelligence, making them undependable as servants. Now, demonic slaves on the other hand…” 

“Have you not had enough of demons yet?” Jaheira said, directing a scowl at the Red Wizard. “I would have thought the recent close encounter would be enough to satiate even you.” 

“Bah, that was a tanar’ri in its natural state, wild and untamed. No, I speak of tamed demonic servants, submissive to my slightest whim. (I would no longer aim for the Gasping Concubines spell, but there are so many other uses to which a demon might be put.)” 

“Oh, that’s very true for sure, Red,” Jan agreed. “For example, the very famous gnomish wizard Tureen Jansen summoned a powerful Glabrezu to serve as her etiquette advisor. He did teach her a lot, but of course Glabrezu always have their own agenda, and his was to impose his evil schemes on diners everywhere, making them lost, lonely and confused. You didn’t think it was coincidence that fancy people try to eat every dessert imaginable, even liquid ones, with a teeny little fork rather than a spoon, did you?”

“Nonsense! Why, every well-bred person knows of that rule – it….it is simply the way it has to be done.”

Jan gave him a pitying look. “I feel for you, I really do. Nasty things, those Glabrezu, aren’t they?” 

“Minsc agrees with the Evil Wizard! Forks are far better than spoons, for with a fork you can STAB OUT THE EYES OF CREEPING EVIL DEMONS AND POP THEM LIKE JELLY CANDY!” 

Edwin pointedly took a long step away from the enthusiastic ranger who had wrapped a muscular arm around his shoulders. “Get your hairy appendage off of me, you atrocious ape! (Note to self – sit even further away from him at mealtimes than previously.)” 

“While I hate to interrupt this special moment of male bonding,” Jaheira said, “Perhaps we should see to Lavok before he expires and leaves us stranded here?” 

“Good point,” Rini readily agreed. “Let’s find Lavok – I say it’s well past time to go home.” 

-*-

Upon returning to the navigation room, Zaerini was pleased to find that Lavok hadn’t expired just yet. The ancient necromancer looked very close to it though, as he lay on the floor, silently gazing up at Valygar’s face. The ranger was studying him just as carefully and intently, not saying a word. Yet something had passed between them, she could sense it. “Well, here we are again,” she said. “The demon heart is in place, so can we go home now?”

Lavok nodded briefly. “I…will instruct you,” he gasped. “The…Sphere must be navigated back. It will take a steady hand on the controls to avert disaster, and a calm presence of mind.”

“Oh. All right.”

“And it must be done by a wizard. The Sphere is attuned to magic. Only a trained wizard can guide it.”

“Oh…” Zaerini hastily looked between Edwin and Jan, both of whom wore identical large and ominous grins, and were rubbing their hands. “Wizard. Calm and steady. Great. We can do that.” 

A long and rather extensive session of bickering later, a beaming Edwin sidled into the comfortable leather chair in front of the navigation station. The panels were now all fully lit, and thousands of little lights in different colors flickered on and off on them. There were levers too, about a dozen of them, and a myriad of glowing buttons. Jan was pouting at being overlooked, but it had been decided that he had had his chance at the Sphere already, launching it in the first place. Zaerini tried to look calm as she climbed into another chair that stood a little apart from the navigator’s. There was a gold-plated sign on the back of it that read ‘Captain, my Captain’. 

“Why all these different posts?” she asked Lavok. “I thought you ran this place alone?”

“I did,” the dying necromancer replied. “They just seemed a good idea at the time…sometimes, influences from the various realms the Sphere passes through leaks into it, rearranging reality a little. Now, ignite the forward thrusters, young man, and take her out of here.” 

“As long as you do not attempt to order me about, decrepit one,” Edwin cheerfully remarked. “I know exactly what I am doing, without your prodding.” He paused briefly, his hand hesitating between a large red button and a large blue one. “Ah…forward thrusters?”

Jaheira closed her eyes, leaning back in the chair marked ‘Medical Officer’. “We are all going to die…” she said. 

Rini gave her a quick smile. “Maybe,” she said: “But at least it will be a wild ride, that counts for something.” 

The engines roared. The stars spun wildly outside the window, careening and whirling, running along the vast view screen like molten silver. Zaerini felt herself pressed backwards in her chair, her skin taut across her bones and her insides tying themselves in knots, and she silently whispered a prayer to Erevan as the Planar Sphere launched itself into space. 

-*-

Edwin struggled at the controls, clinging to the hope that he wouldn’t accidentally press the wrong blinking button. Magic was rushing through his veins, wild and intoxicating, helping to guide the Sphere’s technology. He had got the hang of the basic principles of driving the thing, which was good. What was not so good was that the basic principles of driving the thing altered every time the Sphere shifted to another plane, which it did about once every ten seconds. Some of them were barely noticeable. Others had far more worrying effects, such as turning the entire party into stick figures or a troupe of small teddy bears. The wizard looked down at his furry black paws, closed his eyes and yanked a large lever to the right, guiding the Sphere through a vortex of swirling blue light. Swirly things were the key, that much he knew, and he clung to that knowledge. Sometimes the swirly things made bad things happen, but what could be worse than being a teddy bear, really? 

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Anomen asked. He didn’t sound angry or agitated. Rather, there was a kind of frozen calm to his voice, and when Edwin chanced a brief look across his shoulder, he saw that the cleric’s eyes were calm to the point of glassiness. At least he wasn’t a teddy bear any longer, that was something.

“Tranquilizing spell,” Jaheira tersely said. “Now look where you are going, before…”

Edwin looked, his eyes growing wide with horror as he saw that what the Sphere was about to run into. It looked much like another Sphere, floating serenely in space, except it was quite a bit bigger, and it was clearly still under construction. For an eternally long moment he stared at the vast window of what looked like a command area. There was a person standing there, a very tall person dressed in a grotesque black body armor that reminded Edwin quite a bit of Sarevok. Despite the facial mask, Edwin got a distinct impression that the tall person wasn’t happy to see him at all. Closing his eyes, the wizard jerked the Sphere to the extreme right, which wasn’t enough to avoid impact, but at least only dismantled a third of the half-constructed vessel. There was a horrible tightening and choking sensation in his throat as he pondered what the person in black might have to say about such a thing, but it rapidly faded as the Sphere skipped into its home plane, and he found that there were far worse things ahead. 

-*-

Elminster the Sage leaned back in his pink marble bathtub, sighing with contentment as the fizzing bubbles drifted into the air to circle his head like shining ioun stones. Soft music caressed his ears, played by invisible servants. Ah, truly this was the life! The ancient wizard tapped his ever smoking pipe against the side of the bathtub, dislodging a pile of hot ash that the aerial servants immediately collected and transformed into gold dust for his special skin ointment, ‘Mystra’s Magnificent Magic – Puts Roses In Your Cheeks And A Twinkle In Your Eye’. It worked too, that ointment. Nobody had eyes as twinkly as Elminster’s, after all. That would hardly be allowed, the Powers That Were in general, and Mystra especially would surely let them know the error of their ways if they tried. 

Perhaps he should practice a little, just in case some young wizard was waiting in the wings, wanting to upstage him? “Too many blasted copycats these days,” he muttered to himself, setting his pointed hat more firmly on his head before he smoothed out his long, white beard and blew a dozen elegant smoke rings shaped just like a troop of dwarves and a halfling being chased by a dragon. “Yes, copycats. No original bone in their bodies. Right, here we go. Twinkle twinkle.” 

He looked at himself in the mirror suspended in the ceiling. Oh yes, the twinkle was working beautifully. Shame there weren’t any pretty young ladies around to appreciate it at the moment, but one couldn’t have everything. After all, having your own tiny private magical moon, created by the Goddess of Magic herself as your own personal love grotto and hideaway was pretty nifty. Especially with the teleport spell constantly protecting his person that would whisk him safely here, just in case some cowardly villain actually managed to do him damage. Which was extremely unlikely, given that he was after all Elminster, but not entirely impossible. Perhaps the best part about having a private moon though was all the perks that came with it, the magnificent spells, the food, the service…all lovingly crafted to suit his tastes to perfection. Well, apart from one tiny little detail, that was.

_If only she wouldn’t insist that all the servants be invisible…especially since I had such a lovely idea for uniforms made from silver cloth, to fit the moon theme. With really short skirts for the female servants, for purely aesthetic purposes. Mmm…_

Here, the wise wizard’s contemplation was sadly interrupted by an intruding and unexpected sound, namely that of the voice of Aerial Servant Nr 1, who functioned as Chief Butler. 

“Sir!” Number One frantically called out. “Sir, sir, we’ve got an incoming!” 

“What?” Elminster said, somewhat testily. When no reply came, he shrugged, removed the pinky finger he had been sucking on from his mouth, and spoke again. “I said, what?”

“Sir…big…big…incoming!” 

“Oh, never mind, I’ll see for myself.” The wizard waved his hand in the air, spoke a few syllables of oddly convoluted words, and the ceiling mirror shifted into a vast window, covering the entire ceiling. He could see the black sky, and the myriad of shining stars above, twinkling in an annoyingly competent manner. “So?” he asked. “It’s full of stars. So what?” And then he saw it. Saw the dark, spherical shape that blotted out the stars – the shape that was growing larger by the second. The shape that was definitely caused by something quite a bit larger than the very small and luxurious moon, and that was heading straight for it. 

“Number One!” he shouted. “Get us out of here?”

“How, sir? We’re on a moon.” 

Elminster blinked, realized that the servant was absolutely correct, looked up again, and saw that the spherical thing was a mechanical device of sorts. It was now close enough that the permanent Far Sight spell on his viewing window allowed him to see the faces of the people on board it, and especially the wild-eyed young wizard behind the controls. 

“Mystra’s Massive Mammaries…” Elminster groaned. “Not them again.” 

Then, the Sphere impacted against the moon’s protective magical shield, hard enough to knock the moon completely out of orbit and send it careening wildly across the sky. 

“Sir?!” the frantic Number One called out. “Sir, orders?”

Elminster, who was holding the bathtub’s edges tightly in order not to be thrown out of it, took a few seconds before answering. His attention was very much occupied by what was now visible outside the view screen. _Big. Round. Flaming hot. Sun, sun, sun, SUN!_

”Sir? Would you like me to bring out your sunscreen? Or a nice cup of tea, I find that always helps in cases like this…”

But whether a nice cup of tea would have helped was forever to remain a mystery, since the tiny enchanted moon chose that particular moment to collide with the sun. 

-*-

“Are we there yet?” Anomen muttered, his eyes tightly closed. 

Zaerini carefully lowered her hands from her eyes, peeking through the window. They seemed to be on top of a flat roof, a white marble roof with fancy statues standing in the four corners. A number of bewildered people were milling about the Sphere, all of them looking tall, strong, and very, very shiny. One of them was wearing a rather horrible orange armor that she was delighted to recognize. 

“Yes!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands. “We’re home, we’re safe, it’s all right, we’re on top of the roof of the Order of the Most Radiant Heart!” 

Anomen made a horrified, gurgling sound. “All right…the roof of…but my lady…”

“Oh, and there’s Keldorn!” The half-elf pressed one of the buttons on the still flickering panel in front of her, making the window slide open. “HI KELDORN!” 

Anomen moaned, placing his head in his hands. “Crashed…on top of…the Order building…”

Edwin, meanwhile, was smiling a rather dazed smile. “I hope all you doubtful cretins have now taken proper note of the incredible navigational skills of Edwin Odesseiron,” he said. “Behold, Athkatla lies before us, all thanks to myself. (And a perfect landing too. Wonder if I managed to squash a few paladins in the process?)”

Anomen raised his head, and there was a strange and horrible light in his eyes. “You…crashed the Sphere on top of the Order building…I will kill you!” 

“Don’t worry, Ano, I’m sure they’ll be all right,” Rini said in her most soothing voice. “They have all that heavy armor, after all, and protection spells. Sit down a little, and I’ll check, all right?” She leant halfway out the window, hardly hearing the small gasp from Edwin that followed, and shouted down to the gathered paladins below. “Hey, Keldorn! Sorry about this…everybody all right? We’ve just been on a fun little trip, didn’t mean to cause any harm.”

“No injuries, thank you,” the deep voice of the paladin replied. “Apart from the fact that you utterly crushed the statue of Sir Ulric The Unbreakable.”

“Oh. Sorry.” 

“Sir Keldorn!” Anomen shouted, joining Rini at the window. “Deepest apologies…reparations to be made…penitence…on my honor!” 

“Do not worry, young Anomen. I am certain the Prelate will not let this little mishap count against you during your upcoming Test.” 

”Test? Test! Ah hah! Ha! I was not thinking of that…not in the least…” 

“Telling fibs however, might. Now, will you not all please come down? Maria will not be pleased if I come home with a cracked voice this evening.” 

-*-

Ten minutes later, the adventurers climbed out of the Sphere to face Keldorn and about a dozen assorted paladins, some of whom looked rather hostile. Presumably they didn’t appreciate the Sphere crashing on top of their roof, and Rini couldn’t really blame them for it. 

“There you all are,” Keldorn said, smiling. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t this the very Planar Sphere that appeared in the Slums some time ago?”

“Well, yes,” Zaerini admitted. “See, Valygar needed to go kill his ancestor…oh, there they both are. Valygar, this is Keldorn. Keldorn, this is Valygar. Oh, and that’s Lavok, his undead ancestor.” 

There was a hiss of surprise and a few whispers of ‘Smite Evil!’ from the gathered paladins as Valygar emerged from the Sphere, carrying the dying Lavok in his arms. The ancient necromancer barely stirred, but his eyes were open, staring at the sun and the blue sky above, and his sunken lips twisted into a small smile. “Home…” he whispered, in a voice as of dead leaves stirred by the wind to dance across the floor of a crypt. “Home…never thought it…Valygar Corthala?”

“Yes?” the ranger asked, his dark face solemn and calm. 

“The Sphere…is yours. Do with it what you will. And Valygar…do not repeat my mistake.” 

He exhaled a final time, the dried husk of his body crumbling, dissolving into dust as even the semblance of life left it. The dust was taken by the wind, hurled high into the sky, and there it disappeared as Lavok the Necromancer returned home. 

“He paid for his crimes,” Valygar said, watching the sky. “It is over.” Then, he smiled, a slow and pleased smile, one that made his eyes light up. “It is over.” 

“Er…sorry, mate?” another voice, said from the entrance to the Sphere. The Solamnian Knights stood there, watching the ongoing events with great events. “Seems like we totally ran out of curries back when we nearly crashed into that sun,” Blaster explained. “This large, acid-dripping creepy monster barged into our quarters, ate them all and choked to death on the floor, see.”

“You should consider yourself very lucky, sir,” the golem said, frowning. “Why, if it hadn’t been for the monster getting a whiff of your dirty sock basket, it would undoubtedly have tried to eat you. As it was, it simply screamed and sought out another source of nourishment.” 

“Any monster trying to eat him deserves whatever it gets,” Bummer snorted. Then, he noticed the assembled paladins, and a huge grin spread across his face. “Sirs! Knights, paladins, heroes all! An honor, an honor!” He snapped a wild salute. “According to Solamnian Knights Directive Number 2384 we present ourselves for duty, and if anybody refuses to do so he must be promptly and lawfully flogged with lawfully thorny branches until he lawfully submits to the lawful authority of the lawful ruling body of lawful authority.” 

“Actually, sir,” the golem cut in, “That is number 2394. Number 2384 states ‘Any Solamnian Knight caught shaving the eyebrows of the Barracks Goat must take its place for one week, milking duties included.’” 

“What? But…oh, never mind that, you pompous bucket of bolts. You know perfectly well what I meant.” 

“Minsc knows!” the large ranger said. “The poor lost knights need a new home, and they followed us all the way home. We can keep them!”

“Huh?” Rini gaped. “Keep…look Minsc, it’s not that simp…”

“If I may…” Keldorn said, smiling at her. “Brother knights are of course welcome to guest the Order, for as long as they wish.” 

“That’s very sweet of you, Keldorn, but are you sure?” 

“Absolutely.” The aged paladin nodded at her, and she could have sworn she saw him wink. “Trust me, they will fit right in…the Prelate is bound to be delighted with the fact that young Anomen has been instrumental in rescuing fellow paladins, and they will provide an instructive example to the squires.” 

“And one day,” Valygar added, “I might see them safely home.” The ranger looked calm as always, but this time, something was different. This time, he didn’t look simply calm, but at peace with himself. “I will not abandon my old life, but neither will I let fear of my heritage rule me any longer.”

“You’re…going to be a sorcerer then?”

“Perhaps. I will learn what I can, at least, enough so that I do not do any accidental damage.” He smiled again. “And one day, perhaps the Sphere will fly again. We shall see. If it does, I will attempt not to crash into anything.”

“I resent that!” Edwin hotly protested. “As I said, I handled myself excellently, certainly far better than a mere upstart apprentice sorcerer could have. (You break just one tiny moon and they just won’t let you forget about it.)” 

Rini was just about to reply, but at this point there was a horrified gasp from the assembled paladins, and even more cries of ‘Smite Evil!’. Beams of blue light started shooting down from the sky at the hideous, shuffling creature that approached the party, with no seeming effect at all. 

The creature was more or less humanoid, but horribly bent and hunched over and it walked in an oddly broken way, jerky and stumbling. Charred and still smoking hair hung forward from underneath the blackened ruins of a pointy hat. The hair completely covered its face and torso, probably a good thing given that the gnarled and soot-covered limbs were completely nude. It came closer…closer…and then it stopped, right in front of Edwin. “You…” it hissed through its matted beard, and then it coughed, clouds of smoke bellowing from its mouth. “You!” It raised its head, and then bony fingers parted the hair, revealing a single, madly twinkling blue eye, wildly dilated. “Ho there, wanderer…no…no, that’s not right. Lo, Elminster the Sage dost not much appreciate this little joke of pushing him into the sun, oh no. Such disrespect from young people these days, hm? Lo.” 

“Elminster…” Zaerini groaned. “Oh no. Not again.” 

“You know, “ Jan said, “this reminds me of the story of my Auntie Fiona Jansen, who was persecuted by an indestructible griffin. She stabbed it, drowned it, set fire to it and electrocuted it, but it just kept coming back. Finally, she had to poison it by reading it elven love poetry. All that sap really isn’t good for a griffin, you see, given that they’re partially trees.”

“Griffins aren’t trees!” Jaheira snapped. “And we are not going to poison Elminster!” 

“They are so trees, why else would they attack you from above?” 

Elminster cleared his throat. “I said HO THERE, WANDERER…MIGHT I HAVE THINE ATTENTION HERE? Thank you.” He was still staring at Edwin, just one blue eye visible under his charred clumps of hair. “Seven months, young wizard. That is how long you have. The edict of Ao prevents me from interfering too directly with the Bhaalspawn and her cohorts, but after the whole affair is settled, I am not so bound. I will not permit you to run amok any further.” 

“Ha!” Edwin scoffed, though from the rigid way he held himself, Rini could tell that his bravado was at least partially feigned. “You do not scare me, you senile old has-been. My arcane powers are already enough to leave you humbled in the dust, and in seven months they will leave you as dust.” On his shoulder, Insufferable chattered angrily at Elminster, then turned around to scornfully display his bum to the old wizard.

“You’re not touching a hair on his head,” Zaerini snarled, protectively grasping the arm of her lover as she glared back at Elminster. “Look, I’m sorry he broke your moon, but it was an accident, all right?” 

“An accident. And the cow?”

“Ah. The cow. Well…the cow…see, the thing was…”

“Seven months,” Elminster interrupted. His eye twinkled even brighter, as he started backing away. “Seven…months.” There was a flash of lightning, and he was gone, only a few tufts of smoking beard hair lying on the ground where he had stood. 

_Yeah. That went really well. And now what do we do?_

“So…” Keldorn asked, giving her a probing look. “A quiet, uneventful journey, was it?”

_Later that day…_

“Right, right, let’s go over this one more time,” Zaerini said, raking her fingers through her red hair. “Maybe it isn’t as bad as it seems.” She rested her head in her hands and closed her eyes, trying to concentrate. Around her, all the pleasant little noises of her theatre went on. Hammering and sawing in the distance, Rose rehearsing her main monologue, Higgold chattering on and on to Haer’Dalis about ‘stage presence’ and ‘immersion’. 

“Not as bad as it seems?” Viconia said, arching an elegant eyebrow. “Your little wizard here just incinerated Elm…” 

“Don’t say his name!” Rini interrupted. 

“A pity the doddering old fool is so highly flame resistant,” Edwin mused, studying his fingernails. “I must make certain to use some other means of obliterating him in seven months.” 

“Eddie…I love you. But you can’t seriously mean to fight him. It doesn’t really matter how clever you are, he knows tons more spells than you do, you can’t catch up with that in seven months. Not to mention that he’s got the Goddess of Magic on his side.”

“That is immaterial,” Edwin patiently told her. “I am an Odesseiron, and an Odesseiron never, ever backs down from a given challenge. In exactly seven months I will face him, and I will teach him the lesson he so soundly deserves or die trying.”

_And that’s exactly what I’m afraid of, that you’ll be dead. Or worse._

“Edwin, this is serious! In seven months, he means to do something horrible to you, probably some kind of fate worse than death, and he’ll excuse it all with…with you being a menace to society or something like that.” 

“Well,” a calm voice said from the doorway, “he has always been a menace to society, even in infancy. As I recall, the noises he made when teething were enough for the basement ghoul to drop dead on the spot. Deader, that is.” 

“Teacher Dekaras!” Edwin exclaimed, leaping to his feet in order to embrace the tall assassin. “It is so good to see you again, I tried to look you up before, but I couldn’t find you, and I was getting quite worried. Where have you been?” 

“Oh, here and there,” the assassin said, returning the embrace before giving Zaerini and Viconia a nod of greeting each. Then he held Edwin at arm’s length and gave him a searching look. “And just who might it be who wants you dead this time?” 

“Ah…” Edwin said, blushing a little. “A minor misunderstanding has occurred between myself and a certain pointy-hatted senile old mage, due to his ostentatious planetary body being in the way of my own forays into the art of space navigation.” 

“What he means to say,” Viconia helpfully added, a small smirk on her face, “Is that he knocked a moon into the sun. A small moon that happened to belong to El…”

“Don’t you have some…some surfacers to enslave or actors to terrorize?” Edwin hotly demanded. “I fear nothing and nobody, and certainly not…”

“The favorite Chosen of the Goddess of Magic, that is,” Rini quickly interrupted. “Don’t say his name, whatever you all do.” 

Dekaras blinked. “I…see,” he said. “In addition to the whole affair with the cow, I can’t imagine it made him very happy, did it, boy?”

“No,” Edwin admitted. “Not as such, no.” 

Viconia stretched like a cat. “About as happy as those skin-stealing, beggar-slaughtering people you and I tangled with, hm, Vadrak? What was it you called them again…the Twisted Rune, wasn’t it?” 

“WHAT?!” Edwin practically shrieked. “Twisted Rune? What do you mean, Twisted Rune? Are you referring to Twisted Rune as in the Twisted Rune? And why wasn’t I told before? (Now he will almost certainly act as if it is totally unimportant too.)” 

“That,” Dekaras said after an annoyed look at Viconia, “Is irrelevant to this discussion.”

“No, it isn’t! How did you happen upon the…them? Why? Are you unharmed? What did they do to you?”

“Edwin, they didn’t do anything at all to me that I wasn’t capable of dealing with, and I am perfectly unharmed.” 

“Oh yes,” Viconia agreed. “My healing spells are excellent, after all. I fixed him up right away.”

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” the assassin suggested in a cold voice. “Such as the bottom of a snake pit, perhaps?” 

“No,” Viconia said with a wide grin, leaning back in her chair. “I’m enjoying myself here.” 

“At any rate,” Dekaras continued, “interesting as that little excursion was, it was only a minor diversion. The important thing, and what I came here to inform you of, is that I have acquired the plans for Spellhold, which will make it easier to liberate Imoen once we get that far.” He frowned briefly. “Unfortunately, I was unable to do so without some personal inconvenience and will not be able to provide you with inside information from within Bodhi’s inner circle any longer.” 

Edwin immediately pounced upon this sentence like a terrier on a rat. “Personal inconvenience? What kind of personal inconvenience? Are we talking of personal inconvenience as in a stubbed toe, or major bloodletting?” 

“Not major as such,” Dekaras said with an indifferent shrug. “It was Aerie, mostly, and as you know she prefers other methods. I am perfectly well, so can we please get back to the subject at hand, namely this business of what is going to happen in seven months? Not to mention that I am rather curious about why we are not supposed to speak a certain name.” He turned to Zaerini, ignoring Edwin’s incoherent mutterings. “Oh yes – are the rest of your party on the premises? Once we are done discussing this, there is something else I must inform you of.” 

“Minsc, Jaheira and Anomen went off on some errand,” Rini replied. “I’m not sure where Jan is, think he went to visit his family.” 

“I see.” The assassin removed a pink wig, a fake dagger and an artificial magic wand from one of the chairs standing by the wall of the Manager’s Office, and settled into it, long legs stretched out in front of him. “Please go on then, and fill me in. I have to say I find this business of Edwin being targeted by…a certain person to be a matter of great concern.” 

The process of ‘filling in’ took some time, especially with Edwin’s constant interruptions to explain that everything had gone perfectly according to his master plan, and as for what hadn’t it obviously hadn’t been his fault. “And there you have it,” Zaerini finished. “In exactly seven months, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is coming for Eddie.”

Dekaras gave her a curious look. “Just why is it that you do not wish us to mention his name?” he asked. 

The half-elf took out the scroll she had been gifted by Erevan Ilesere, carefully unfurling it. “I got this from…from a friend of sorts,” she said. “A friend of the divine persuasion. I guess he knew this might happen and wanted to provide a fair chance. It’s a list – a list of his powers. It unfurled so I was able to read it once it was the right time.” She pointed at the scroll. “It says right here that if anybody speaks his name, anywhere on Toril, he can hear it, and he’ll be able to listen in on the conversation, or at least the first eight or nine words following his name.”

“Perhaps we could refer to him as ‘Hatman’ from now on,” Edwin mused. 

“Yeah, sure. Why not? Anyway, here’s another thing. It says that Mystra set him up with this private moon, with spells on it that would teleport him there the moment he was harmed by anything.” 

“And this,” Dekaras filled in, “would be the moon you mentioned destroying earlier, yes?” He leaned back in the chair, leaning his fingertips against each other. “At least it is out of the way now, I suppose. Please do continue.” 

“Let’s see…” She unfolded the scroll further. It kept unfolding, and unfolding, and unfolding. Eventually it had crossed the table and wound up on the floor. “Well, he’s apparently super-duper strong, agile, tough, clever, wise, and charming. Says so, right here. It also says he’s immune to disease and poisons, among other things, including disintegration. Hm…can’t die from natural causes. Guess that means old age. Can become immune to one specific spell of each level, at will. Knows spellfire. Has psionic powers…sort of like a mindflayer, I guess. Doesn’t need to eat, or sleep. Increased resistance to dragon breath. Can learn lots of extra spells. Silver fire…ouch. Teleport without error. Can detect magic at will. He’s naturally immune to magic missile, feeblemind, death spell, finger of death, power word blind, and imprisonment. Oh, and Everard’s Black Tentacles. He’s totally immune to natural or magical fear, including dragon fear. Not that we have a dragon handy, anyway. He can breathe fire…become ethereal…make himself very resistant to damage…of course, he already is highly resistant to fire, acid, cold and so on.” 

“And that’s all, is it?”

“Yep. Oh, just one more thing. He’s also supposedly ‘an excellent dancer’.” 

“A shame,” the assassin said in a dry voice. “There went my hopes of Edwin requesting that the business between them be settled by a dancing competition.” 

-*-

At this time, quite another, and somewhat less powerful wizard was stumbling through the Government District of Athkatla, clutching his hands to his stomach. Tolgerias had rarely felt as miserable as he did at this particular moment. Not only had Valygar Corthala escaped him, but he was so dreadfully nauseous, and his stomach was roiling. Why, it felt almost as if there was a living creature inside it, ready and waiting to burst out. 

“Need…bicarbonate…” he muttered to himself. Or a cleric, but that was a bit too expensive for a simple case of upset tummy. He paused, leaning against the cool red bricks of a nearby house in order to steady himself. There before him lay the round pond that decorated the district’s central square. Since it was getting dark, there weren’t really any people about, apart from a lone guard he could see in the distance, but the ducks were still out. The ducks that he had been forced to feed for ages , while waiting for that…that half-elf to deign to come accept his mission. 

_Horrible, feathery creatures, with their disgusting flat bills and wet feet. I wager they carry lots of contagious diseases as well. Why, they should all be exterminated, before they can transmit anything to the populace. Besides, I just don’t like them._

Tolgerias paused briefly in order to take out the required spell components. Fireball, oh yes. That should do it. If only his stomach didn’t hurt so…the flesh was bulging outwards, heaving and straining, and he could barely think straight. Still, one fireball. That should be enough. “Cursed ducks…” he muttered. “You will die! You will all die!“ 

“Incantus…pul…”

WHOOOOM!

A globe of incandescent white flame enveloped the suffering mage, cutting his final word short as it burnt him to a cinder. From within the charred corpse, a tiny, twisted shape burst forth, shrieking as it burnt. Finally, it too was still, dead before it had even been born. 

“There, there, Ducky,” Nevaziah the Lich said as he stepped out from behind a tree, patting his yellow toy duck gently on the head. “The nasty old duck-hating wizard is all gone, see? You needn’t be afraid anymore.” He gave the smoking corpse an absent-minded look. “Now, whoever might that have been, hm, Ducky? Looks like he came across somebody who didn’t like him, poor man.” Bony shoulders shrugged, and the distant light in his hollow eye sockets grew brighter. “Well, doesn’t matter, I suppose. Come on Ducky, let’s go feed your little friends!” And with that, the lich set about merrily throwing breadcrumbs to the ecstatic ducks, humming a cheerful little tune under his breath as he did so. 

_Ducky, Ducky, he’s the one  
A Ducky who is lots of fun  
Don’t annoy him, or you’ll rue  
The day when Ducky comes for you_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The list of Elminster's powers is the genuine thing, or at least it was during 2nd edition when I Baldur's Gate was made.


	138. Revelations and Reflections

**Cards Reshuffled 138 – Revelations and Reflections**

_Remember, constant vigilance. Pay close attention to your surroundings, and to the people around you, at all times. Though you may think you know them, you never know when they might choose to surprise you._

_From ‘The Tenets of Helm’_

“I…remind you of your sister?” Jaheira asked, raising an eyebrow. “In what way?”

“Ah…” Anomen said, feeling his cheeks heating up with a sudden blush. What he had been meaning to say had been so obvious and clear in his head, but now that the words were supposed to actually cross his lips, they felt flat and insufficient. “There are differences, obviously, my lady. But one thing that occurs to me is that you both are very strong in faith and conviction. Moira always did what she believed to be the right thing, no matter the cost to herself, and that is what I see in you as well.”

“I see,” Jaheira said in a pensive voice, her head momentarily bent over her bowl of fresh strawberries. The sunlight was caught in her hair, making it shine, a warm brown with shades of gold, and Anomen felt his heart skip a beat. Suddenly, he was only vaguely aware of the existence of any other people in the world than the half-elven druidess in front of him.

They had gone for a walk in the Government District, taking advantage of the fine weather, and had stopped at a small tavern with tables and benches situated in the shade under a large elm. It was close enough to the street that you could study the people walking by, but far enough away that you could still remain undisturbed by them if you so wished. And that was certainly what Anomen wished. He looked about for Minsc, satisfied himself that the ranger was busy happily chatting with the ducks in the pond – there seemed to be an unusually large number of them about for some reason – and returned his attention to Jaheira. 

The druidess had truly begun to prey on his mind as of late. At first, he had told himself that it was only natural, since she was a good friend, and one who had been of great aid to him in his time of trouble. Then, he had come to understand that that was not all there was to it. However, he was frightened, horribly so, as bitter a pill as that was to swallow. _I made a fool of myself once, mooning after a woman who did not share my feelings. Nay, it was worse than that. I made a fool of myself by believing that I could force the world into following my script, that I could create the perfect love I believed a knight should have. I was wrong. What I felt then might have grown into true love, given time, but it was an infatuation at best. And now…_

What did he feel now? He wasn’t entirely certain. _If I am truly in love – am I not supposed to know it for certain? And if I am mistaken once again, I run the risk of hurting her, so very badly. Not to mention that she has only recently lost her husband, whom she loved dearly. If I were to speak my heart, would she think me a lout out to take advantage of a grieving widow?_

But oh, she was so much more than a grieving widow. As she raised her head again, he looked deeply into her eyes, brilliant green and sparkling with intelligence and warmth. She smiled a small smile, and he would gladly have done battle with a dragon to have that smile last longer. And then she reached out a slim hand to grasp his, and it felt as if his heart had been granted wings and was about to take flight. “It cannot have been easy for you, Anomen,” she said. “We have been on the move so much; you have not been granted much time to grieve properly.” 

“The same holds true for you, Lady Jaheira,” he said, trying to make his voice as gentle as possible.

She blinked, and it was as if a cloud had passed across the sun for a moment, darkening her eyes. “True,” she said. “Yes, that is very true.” She shook her head briefly, looking suddenly as fierce as a lioness. “I mourn my Khalid daily, and I will never forget him!” 

“I know that, my lady,” Anomen said. _But though I would never ask you to forget…might I implore you to look into your heart and see if it might be shared?_

She sighed. “I know you do. I fear you are not the only one of us with a rotten temper.” 

“Impossible, my lady,” Anomen said, smiling at her. “Your temper can at most be called ‘partially decomposed’.” 

Jaheira snorted with sudden laughter, and the strawberry she had just put into her mouth hit the cleric straight in the eye. “Oh!” she cried out, sounding quite mortified, but still unable to keep from laughing. “Oh Anomen, I am sorry.” 

“Fear not, Lady Jaheira,” Anomen said, gently massaging his eye. “A minor healing spell or two, and I will be as good as new.”

“Then you must allow me to cast them,” she replied. “No, I will have no protests!” Already her fingers were touching the tender skin of his eyelid, as well of that of his cheek. Anomen sat motionless, not even breathing as the gently tingling feeling of the healing spell spread across his face. “There,” Jaheira said once it was finished. She cleared her throat and went on briskly. “That is everything settled, and I hope you can forgive my clumsiness.”

“The pain has entirely passed, my lady,” Anomen replied. He took a deep breath. Would he dare go on? What if she became angry again? _But dear Helm, she is equally enchanting when angry._ “And…if it makes you smile again, you may pelt me with as many berries, fruit and vegetables as you please.” 

Silence. More silence. And yet more silence. 

Anomen sat looking at the tabletop, waiting for an explosion, dreading it. When none came, he looked up. Jaheira was simply sitting there, watching him seriously. “I…appreciate the offer, Anomen. Truly I do. But if I am to take you up on it, you must promise me one thing.”

“What would that be, my lady?”

She smiled again, a smile that was warm and friendly and not in the least flirtatious. Still, it was enough to make him feel quite breathless. 

“Call me Jaheira, please.”

Anomen smiled in return. “Of course, my…that is…Jaheira.” 

_Jaheira._

And while the exchange couldn’t in any way compare to the great romantic dialogues of Anomen’s favorite novels, to his mind, and right then, it was everything he could have dreamed of. 

-*-

Minsc, meanwhile, was having a nice talk with the little fluffy ducks in the pond. He’d offered to get them some food, but Boo had told him that they were all full already because their nice special friend had been to see them. Once that was settled, he decided to head back to find his friends. 

At first, he hadn’t wanted to go out and leave his Witch behind, but Zaerini had told him that it was all right, and that he should go and have fun. It was a shame that there didn’t seem to be any Evil Monsters around to give a good poke in their icky evil red eyes, but the fluffy little ducks made up for it. He decided that he wouldn’t mind having a duck of his own – if he didn’t have Boo, of course. No other animal could ever compare to his Boo. 

At that, the little hamster made a quiet chirping sound, and nuzzled Minsc’s neck, which tickled a bit. He had to laugh, and as he was just walking up to Anomen and Jaheira it made them start with surprise. Anomen especially looked a bit unhappy, and Minsc decided that he needed cheering up. 

“Ah, good friends!” he said, seating himself at their table. “This morning is as fine as it can be, is it not? Look at Boo, the way his eyes twinkle, he is happy too!” 

“He seems to be eating my napkin,” Jaheira remarked. “Will it not hurt him?”

“Oh no,” Minsc explained. “Boo may be small, but his tummy is as strong as Minsc’s, and anything he can bite off, he can chew. Would you like to see him eat his way through a raw steak? He goes so fast you can hardly see him, right Boo?”

“Squeak!” the hamster agreed, and then went on to gorge himself on one of Jaheira’s leftover strawberries. 

“No, we would not!” Anomen said. “We were having a conversation, here.”

“That is good!” Minsc agreed. “Good friends chatting always cheers Minsc up, and when Minsc is happy, so is Boo, and that means he can bite lots more Evil Butt. What were you talking about?”

Oddly enough, the cleric blushed at that, and then cleared his throat, humming and harrumphing. “Er…nothing,” he eventually said. Jaheira gave him an odd look. “That is…nothing you would be interested in, I am certain.”

“But what we should be discussing, however, is the matter of that key your sister sent you,” Jaheira cut in. “Are you certain you have no idea where it goes?”

Anomen sighed. “Sadly, I do not. Moira told me to trust in the guidance of Helm, but though I have prayed more than once for his guidance, I still am no wiser.” 

Minsc thought about this for a little while, and then Boo suggested something that hadn’t occurred to him. “Boo says maybe you’re looking in the wrong place,” he said. 

“Oh, Boo says that, does he?” Anomen snorted briefly. “And where does Boo think I should be searching?”

“It is simple!” Minsc said, smiling broadly. “If you want to track wolves you do it in wolf country, and if you want to track deer you go where the deer go. So, if you want to track a god, you find out where the god lives.” He patted the cleric on the arm. “But do not feel sad for not thinking of it, you do not have the guidance of Boo, after all.” 

“I do not need the guidance of a hamster…”

“Miniature giant space hamster.”

“…minature giant space hamster, in order to find Helm, thank you, Minsc. And though he does not live as such on this plane, I do know where his temple is, and…” 

Here, Anomen broke off, and his eyes widened as he stared in front of himself. 

“Anomen?” Jaheira asked, and her voice was sharp. “What is the matter?”

“I have it…” the cleric murmured. “Jaheira, I have it! I know what Moira meant, or at least I think I do.” He took Minsc’s hand, shaking it warmly. “Thank you, my friend. And please forgive me for being short with you before.”

“Minsc is happy to forgive,” Minsc said, shaking back. He grinned happily. “And if you now know where to find Evil Foes that need to have their backsides prodded by the Swords of Goodness, that is even better than fluffy ducks, which makes him even happier.” 

“Not just yet, Minsc, but soon,” Anomen said. There was a sharp gleam in his eyes, and the smile on his lips was one that Minsc thought would have suited the Ice Dragon Berserker Lodge very well. “Hopefully, very soon indeed, and I think you will find it just as interesting as the ducks.” 

_Deep within the Odesseiron Mansion, the city of Pyarados, Thay…_

“My dove?” Galen Odesseiron said, poking his head out through the magical portal he had erected in the middle of the Small Green Reception Room. “Won’t you come and have a look at this plane I found? They have these trees that grow berries that make you bounce when you eat them, it’s awfully interesting.” 

“Thank you, husband, but no,” Elvira Odesseiron replied. “You are being careful with that thing, aren’t you?” 

“Oh, of course, of course,” Galen said, smiling cheerfully back at her. There were leaves in his mussed brown hair, she noticed, and blue smudges of some kind of juice on his lips. “Don’t you worry about a thing; the bears won’t let me come to harm.” 

“Bears? What…”

But the portal had already closed, and he was gone, leaving Elvira staring at the spot on the elegant goldthreaded carpet where he had been. She had to admit, this latest hobby of Galen’s had so far been very disaster-free compared to the ones he had come up with before. She didn’t know which one of them had been more surprised to learn that he actually had a talent for creating magical portals, but it had kept him out of her hair for quite some time now, and so far he hadn’t hurt himself or anybody else. 

_So far._

Yes, that was the problem, wasn’t it? Galen’s hobbies always led to disaster, one way or another, and she had no reason to believe this one would be different from the rest. Yes, she had insisted that she be present every time he opened a new portal, to make certain it didn’t lead to some dimension filled with horrible tentacled monsters of the soul-eating persuasion, but she still wasn’t entirely reassured. 

It wasn’t merely the matter of potential monsters destroying the furniture either. She didn’t want to see her husband devoured by Creatures from Beyond, convenient as that would be. _I don’t love him, and I never did. Things would be so much easier if he were gone. But…not in that way._ All the same, she couldn’t help thinking of what things could have been like. What things should have been like, if she and her beloved Wolf had been able to be together in the way they both wanted. _To not have to hide any longer…and it is worse for him, so much worse._

Elvira sighed, and she strode swiftly towards her workroom, red silk skirts sweeping smoothly across the polished floor. Once there, she sat down at her worktable, and reached for an elegant silver bowl. Fresh water appeared in it, pouring into it out of empty air at her command. She focused as hard as she could on her lover, visualizing not merely his face but his entire being, willing him to appear in the scrying bowl. 

_Whatever are you up to, you fool? What are you doing?_

For a moment, the image of his face floated to the surface of the bowl, and she strained to keep it there, using every scrap of magic at her command. He was talking to somebody, she could see his lips moving, but not hear the words. Then, the water rippled, grew dim, and he was gone. 

_At least he is safe, for the moment._ She hadn’t seen Edwin with him, but although of course she feared for her only child, adrift in the barbarian West, she still felt reassured. As long as her beloved lived, he would never allow Edwin to come to harm, she knew that. _But why is he cloaking his presence from me? Surely not…no, no matter how many nasty little westerner chits come sniffing around after him, he would never betray me.But he has been gone for so long. I want to see him for more than an instant, to feel his touch once more and hear the sound of his voice._ She glanced at the still and dark water in the bowl. It had gone as dark as a night sky now, a night sky with no stars. Yes, he was definitely blocking himself. _My Wolf, I do not know what you think you are up to – but you will come back to me safely, or…or you will never hear the end of it._

-*-

“Mirror, mirror, on the wall,” Aerie murmured. “Show me the sneakiest of them all.” She stared intently into the beautiful full-length mirror hanging on the wall of her chambers, deep within Bodhi’s lair. The vampire had managed to acquire some quite decent furniture, including a lovely vanity and a highly comfortable bed, but Aerie still hadn’t got entirely used to sleeping underground. She missed the sky, and the sun, and the open air, and the walls sometimes felt as if they were pressing in on her, wanting to squash her flat. _Foolish ideas. Being underground may not be exactly natural for an Avariel, but I can certainly deal with it as long as it serves my purposes._ And it did serve her purposes, she preferred to stay out of sight of her foes for now, that she might be better able to take them by surprise later. _I can afford no more mistakes, Loviatar will not forgive it._

So far, the face that looked back at her from the mirror was her own, cool blue eyes looking even wider than normal in her intense concentration, rosebud mouth pressed tightly shut. _He is blocking me again. Yet it is getting easier._ It always did that, after you had been intimate with somebody, and what could possibly be more intimate than her own special brand of painful attention? Yes, there. For a few seconds, her face blurred, and she could see the vague outline of another. _Fairly close by…and in company._ She considered attempting to scry the Bhaalspawn instead, to see if she could determine more, but decided against it. _Too many of the gods are watching that one, it might bring unwanted attention._ Once more, she tried focusing on her target, but now the control over the image slipped from her, and she could not find it again. 

_Peculiar that he is that trained at blocking. One would not expect it from a mind not devoted to the arcane._ Well, while that was an interesting matter to consider, it would not help her at the moment. What she had learnt was that her quarry was still in Athkatla, though she had not had time to pinpoint the exact spot. 

“And have you had progress, my dear?” Bodhi purred in a sweet voice, slipping up behind her. Aerie willed herself not to startle – the vampire had not appeared in the mirror, and still did not, although she could feel Bodhi’s cool hand resting lightly on her shoulder. 

“I have,” she replied, briefly outlining her findings. “And what of you – my dear?” 

She could feel Bodhi’s predatory grin even though she could not see it. “Oh yes,” the vampire said. “Or rather, my dear brother has. He just contacted me, to inform me that he is nearly about to break free. We must be prepared to move swiftly when he does.” She idly gathered a strand of the Avariel’s golden hair between her fingers, caressing it. “Can you move swiftly, little elf?”

Aerie finally turned around, smiling her prettiest smile. “Swiftly, or slowly, exactly as it suits me,” she said.

“How very competent of you,” the vampire said, an amused glitter in her dark eyes. “It would please me to see for myself.” 

“Perhaps you shall – if that pleases me.” _It might be entertaining to see if I can make her trust me more deeply. Not to mention potentially useful._

“Oh, it will,” Bodhi promised, and her hand slid slowly down along the Avariel’s back, idly caressing the stumps where her wings had been. “These scars…they are pleasing to me. So much devotion they show – such a determination to gain power. It is so important to be able to cut old ties, in order to grow in strength, is it not?”

“It was a sacrifice, gladly made,” Aerie truthfully said, letting her finger run along the vampire’s cheek, inspiring little jolts of magical pleasure. “I regret nothing.”

“As it should be, my dear, as it should be. No pity, no regrets. Yes, you and I understand one another, don’t we?”

Shortly after these words had been spoken, Aerie glanced into the mirror once more. Once again, she thought she could see the face she had sought for a few seconds, but then it was gone again, replaced by her own form, embraced by one that could not be seen. _Oh, we do that, my ‘dear’. For now, we work as one, until we have the ones we seek. And then…we will see who comes out on top._

-*-

Diamandia Harrietta Celebrian Oregano Insidious Toffee frowned briefly as she looked into the small crystal sphere she used for scrying. She chewed on the end of one of her brown braids, attempting to focus more closely. When she had received her most recent orders from the Homeland, she had been warned that it would be difficult, but she hadn’t fully appreciated just how difficult. _But I will not fail. The Oluanna herself has entrusted me with this mission, I will not betray the trust of the Chosen One._ She felt that giddy little thrill to her stomach that she always did when she thought of the Chosen One. _She spoke to me – she spoke to me directly! Her!_ She knew all too well that she could never hope to approach the purity of the _Oluanna_ , but she would honor her Leader, and serve her and Rasheman faithfully. _When she fully comes into her own, no longer need we fear the threat of Thay. All that is vile and wicked will be gone from the world, and she will rule a realm of peace and beauty, forever._

But that time had not yet come, and if she wanted to help make it come about, she had better work more and daydream less. Once more Diamandia focused on her sphere, hard enough that she could see spots in front of her eyes. And there…yes. A dark shape, floating deep within the crystal, moving with fluid elegance. _The Wraith._ She shivered, this time with discomfort, as she looked upon the bane of so many of her sisters. _Praised be the Oluanna for finding him from afar. Perhaps this time the slayer might be brought to justice._

But in order for that to happen, Diamandia herself would need to do her part. She, being positioned where she was, was well equipped to keep tabs on the target, even though her powers of course could not approach those of the great Oluanna herself. She had been carefully ordered not to approach for now, that was too dangerous and would gain too little. _Will a large group of sisters travel here, I wonder? But that would take time, so much time._

Still, it was not her place to question the orders of her superiors. She had been told to watch, and to wait, and that was exactly what she would do. It was too bad that the scrying was so uncommonly hard – so far she had been unable to do more than pick up on the general whereabouts of her target. 

Perhaps…perhaps she could do more than that, and still obey her orders? If scrying was ineffectual, did it not make sense to use other means? The young _wychlaran_ smiled at that, twining her braid around her finger. She was powerful; after all, even that conceited old fool Tolgerias had seen it. Diamandia passed her hand across her face, and gray eyes shifted color to pale brown, even as shiny brown hair was changed into unremarkable mouse-colored strands. She had first learnt this spell when in training, in order to more easily influence those around her. Of course, then she usually would have violet eyes and hyacinth locks, or something equally attention-grabbing. For now, though, being unremarkable served her purposes far better. 

Satisfied with her work, Diamandia looked into the scrying crystal once more. By now, all she could see was thick shadows, well capable of hiding anybody. _For now. But though crimes against the Wychlaran may go unpunished for some time, they are never forgotten. Justice will come, and the wicked brought low. Praised be the Oluanna, the righteous will prevail, and the Homeland cleansed of all taint._

And, come to think of it, why stop there? Was the Oluanna not the wise, powerful, and just leader so sorely needed elsewhere as well? Why allow the corrupt leaders of other nations to guide their ignorant subjects into sin, when the means to save them was at hand? That would be a sin in itself, would it not? 

Diamandia’s smile was radiant as she thought of the good deeds ahead, how she, even as a minor part of the Oluanna’s faithful, might be instrumental in saving the souls of millions. 

_First the Homeland. Later, the world._


	139. Reading Between the Lines

**Cards Reshuffled 139 – Reading Between the Lines**

_Illusions can be really powerful, in and out of battle. They can sometimes be far more deadly than something like a fireball, because they can make your opponent damage himself in ways you couldn’t possibly manage._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Yoshimo?” Zaerini asked, trying to come to terms with what she had just heard. “Geas? Irenicus? Are you sure?”

“I feel quite convinced, yes,” Dekaras said, nodding briefly. “I hope you will not find it too presumptuous of me to have done some further investigating of the matter.”

“Huh? What…oh. No, no problem. But it’s just…a geas? What kind of geas, exactly?”

“Therein lies the problem,” the assassin explained as he poured himself another cup of coffee, the third so far. Rini wasn’t exactly sure how he could have so much at a time without being as jittery as she would have been, but she figured that anybody used to ingesting poison regularly probably had an advantage when it came to coffee. _And why am I even thinking about coffee? I only asked Higgold to bring some up because serious conversations are easier to handle if you’ve got something to hold in your hands._

_Well_ , Softpaws said, curling up more comfortably on her mistress’ lap, _at least your mate seems to be enjoying the chocolate chip cookies._

_He is, isn’t he? I must remember to buy them now and then when we’re…_

_When you’re what?_

_Er…nothing._

The cat purred loudly, her green eyes narrowing to slits. _Married._

_I said no such thing!_

_You meant it. Married, and living together, and having a litter of your own._

_I’m not about to get married and have a litter…I mean, kids!_

_You’re planning to do it the other way around then? Well, cats don’t bother much with this whole business of ‘marriage’, the mating’s what’s important after all._

_Softy, I’m on a dangerous mission to rescue my best friend, it would be completely ridiculous for me to have a kid in the middle of that! What, am I supposed to carry the poor thing around on my back as we go into battle or something? You’d have to be completely brainless to do that._

_Pay attention now_ , the cat said in a maddeningly patient voice. _Or they will think you’ve gone soft in the head. Oh, and scratch behind my left ear…no, lower down. That’s it. And you carry them in your mouth, not on your back._

“…so there you have it,” Dekaras said, and then gave her a penetrating look. “And you haven’t paid attention to a single word I’ve said, have you?”

“I have too!” Rini tried, making her most innocent face and hoping that it would work. The level glare she got in return hinted that it hadn’t, though. “Well, I heard most of it, but I got kind of distracted by the idea of having a litter…”

The assassin actually looked quite taken aback at that. “A…litter?” he said, and then he turned to Edwin who froze in the process of grabbing the last cookie. “Boy…are you telling me that you forgot everything about a certain previous conversation of ours?”

“I haven’t!” Edwin protested, guiltily dropping the cookie. “And we are not having a…” He turned suddenly towards Zaerini, his eyes very wide. “Are we?”

“No!” She wasn’t sure if he looked relieved or disappointed at that, and she also wasn’t sure which she would have preferred. “I mean…maybe one day…look, can we talk about this later? I want to hear about this geas.” 

“You just did,” Dekaras said in a dry voice, “but as you wish. For obvious reasons, Yoshimo cannot speak directly of the details. I need to coax the information out of him using great care, in order not to harm him.”

“How? Riddles? Charades?” A wild image of Yoshimo performing ‘I am a geased bounty hunter on the run from a mad wizard’ forced her to suppress a giggle. 

“Nothing quite so colorful. We talk, around the subject. I have managed to learn that Irenicus did not wish for him to kill you, or indeed to do you harm.”

“He wants me captured, I guess.” She shivered, and for a moment the memories came back. Chains. Cold. The pain, in body and soul, and a pair of cold blue eyes staring through her. When she came back to herself, Edwin had his arms wrapped tightly around her, and was murmuring something in Thayvian in a soft voice, close by her ear. She looked up, to see Dekaras giving her a sympathetic look. 

“I am sorry,” the assassin said. “These things are never easy to speak of. Yes, I presume he wants you captured, but I want to find out the details of it, if I can. If the geas can be broken, Yoshimo will be a very helpful ally, not to mention that I promised him I would try. But obviously it is out of the question to place you in danger, and that is why you need to be informed of what I am doing.” 

“But aren’t _you_ in danger from this?” Edwin protested. “If he is working with Irenicus, who knows what he might be capable of? (Not that I expect him to listen to me, it is not as if he ever does, but I have to try all the same.)” 

“Yoshimo could have betrayed me already, had he wanted to,” Dekaras stated. “He did not, instead he…aided me. No, I do not fear him, whatever that geas entails it does not involve me.” 

“Well, what if he betrays you entirely by himself?” 

“I do not trust him blindly,” Dekaras said. “But as I said, if he wanted to betray me, he could easily have done so already, and more than once. It is Zaerini who must avoid him, at least until I can figure out how the geas works.”

“I won’t be going near him, don’t you worry,” Rini promised. “Have you found out anything else about Spellhold?”

“Yes. There are some extremely powerful wards in place. First of all, anybody approaching on foot will be instantly killed, unless they possess one of the wardstones that the Cowled Wizards carry.”

“Right.”

“So, one of the Cowled Wizards must be parted from his wardstone, while away from Spellhold itself. Then, upon entry, there are areas that dampen magic, meant to hold the prisoners and keep them from escaping. Imoen will be in one of them, most likely in the low security ward. I expect Irenicus is being held in one of the secure cells.” 

“Well, he can stay there and rot,” Rini said, shuddering. “Jaheira wants to kill him, and I guess I want that as well, but…besides, Immy is more important.” 

“It might be a good opportunity to deal with him, since he will most likely be weakened, and with wards restraining his magic, but you are right, Imoen should be the first priority.” The assassin gave her a searching look. “Have you gathered the funds necessary?”

“Almost. I figure we’ll have a look at this job that this Firkraag fellow offered, killing ogres somewhere out in the countryside. With the money from that, we’ll have the money we need.” 

“You should come with us too,” Edwin suggested to his teacher.

“Edwin, much as I would enjoy your company, I think your group is more than capable of dealing with a few ogres without my help. I believe I can do more good working with Yoshimo, if the geas can somehow be circumvented he could be very helpful.”

“Well, what of the elf and the vampire? They will be searching for you, you know, as much as for the rest of us.”

“Of course they will, which is why I will be especially careful, even more so than normal.”

Edwin sighed at that, looking gloomily into his cup of coffee, while Insufferable vainly tried to cheer him up by doing a very suggestive dance around the sugar bowl. 

“Do try not to worry so,” Dekaras told the wizard. “I assure you I am perfectly capable of avoiding them for now, and it won’t be for an extended period of time – no longer than it takes you to kill a few ogres.” He turned to Zaerini again. “While you are away, are you certain you do not wish me to pay a visit to a certain theatre owner I have heard tales about?”

“What, Parsley? Thanks, but I’d rather you didn’t, I’d prefer to have him alive, face down in the mud, and me standing on top of him.” She chewed her lower lip in thought. “Still, it would be great if you could check in on the place now and then. Vic does a wonderful job, but in case Parsley does try something, some extra help couldn’t hurt.” 

The assassin nodded. “As you wish,” he said. “And apart from termination, anything goes, am I correct?” 

She gave him a quick grin. “If he starts something, absolutely. Just promise to tell me all about it afterwards. Preferably by doing charades.” 

-*-

Sometime later, alone with her lover, Rini sighed with pure pleasure and rested her cheek against his chest. He smelled nice, she thought, and felt even better, warm and wonderful. In his arms, she could forget the world, forget even Irenicus. Right now, he had his arms wrapped tightly around her and was bending down to kiss her hair. 

“Hellkitten?” he whispered. 

”Mmmm?”

”Did you mean what you said before?” 

“Mean what?”

“That you would like…in the future…that we…litter…I mean…”

She could feel herself blushing, her cheeks going hot and pink, but she had to be honest, there was no other choice. “Yeah. Some day. If you want to?”

The manner in which he eagerly moved in to kiss her again was really all the answer that she needed. 

-*-

Jaheira had followed Anomen into the Temple District, pondering their quest as she did so. She wondered just what it was that Anomen’s sister had been trying to keep so secret, but nothing seemed to make much sense. _Lady Maria said that Moira had told her of a young man, but that Anomen would find nothing to disapprove of in the match. And yet, later she seemed distraught. What happened to cause that change?_

“Here,” Anomen said in a quiet voice, stopping outside a small temple. Helm’s Allseeing Eye was painted in faded blue above the door, and Jaheira raised an eyebrow. Not the main temple, this. 

“Anomen?” she asked. “Why have we come here?”

He turned towards her, and there was a look of deep melancholy in his dark blue eyes, one that cut her to the bone. “When I was a child, my lady mother would bring Moira and myself here, to pray,” he explained. “Father would not have us do it in the house; the only god he ever worshipped is red and comes out of a bottle. I...always enjoyed coming here. It was a place of peace.” 

Peace. Jaheira wondered briefly if she would ever feel at peace again. The woods and the wild had made her feel at peace once – and Khalid…No. She had to focus. Mourning had its place and its time, but right now Anomen needed her help. 

“And you think Moira meant for you to come here?” she asked. 

“I know so, my l…Jaheira.” He smiled; a warm smile that made her feel oddly disconcerted. _Now, why would that be?_ “This was our haven, and when she left me the message to ‘Seek the guidance of Helm’, this is what she must have meant. Come, I will show you.” 

Inside, the temple was plainly furnished, and Jaheira could see but a single priest, who was busy polishing the symbol of Helm hanging above the altar. He turned around briefly to look at the strangers, nodded and went back to his work. 

“Old Marel used to be the priest here…” Anomen whispered. “Though I suppose he must be gone, he was an old man even then.” He looked around for a moment, searching. “Minsc,” he said in a low voice. “Might you go ask the good priest to help you light a candle for the souls of the departed? I will pay him afterwards.” 

“Minsc is happy to help!” the ranger said. “If the dead people want candles lit, Minsc will light enough to make them all warm and snuggly safe.” He frowned briefly. “Though Minsc sees no dead people here…”

“Never mind that, Minsc,” Jaheira hastily said. “Please, just ask him.” 

As soon as he saw Minsc speaking animatedly with the priest, and the priest’s eyes take on a familiar glazed look, Anomen moved towards the far corner of the temple, kneeling down as if in prayer. And there was indeed a small statue of Helm here, standing in a secluded niche in the wall, but it wasn’t the god himself whom the priest was paying attention to this time. At the feet of the god was another statue, that of a large dog gazing devotedly upon Helm’s stern and silent face. Anomen touched it gently, running his hand under its belly. “The faithful hound...ever loyal, ever on guard,” he murmured. “A model to inspire us all – but of course, Moira and I simply pretended he was ours. This was our favorite spot in all the temple, until we grew old enough to understand more of proper worship. Perhaps even after that.” A sudden smile lit up his face, and Jaheira had to smile in return, it was that contagious. “Here,” Anomen whispered, and withdrew his hand, showing it to her briefly. In the palm of his hand lay something small and white – a letter. 

Sometime later, Anomen and Jaheira were sitting on a bench in a secluded part of the Government District, nicely shaded by a large maple tree. Minsc had gone off to have a look at some merchant’s stalls a little distance away, saying that he ‘wanted to buy something nice for his Witch’. 

“Anomen?” Jaheira asked. “Are you certain that you want me know the contents of this letter? Your sister wrote it for you, after all.” 

The young man nodded, giving her an earnest look. “I do,” he said. “I trust your opinion, Jaheira, very much so. I know that whatever Moira had to say, I may rely on you to give me sound advice.”

The druid didn’t reply, but she felt a faint heat in her cheeks and along her throat. Being relied on felt…good. She had always thought so, but she was especially pleased in this case. _Well, of course I would be. Anomen is probably the most stubborn man I ever met, and he has not made a habit of listening to others. Naturally it is flattering._

Anomen cleared his throat and began reading in a quiet voice. Now and then he had to pause briefly, to compose himself, but he kept on. 

_My dearest brother Anomen_

_If you read this, what I fear has come to pass, and I am dead. I pray that you do not come to grief over me if that is so, the last thing I would wish would be for you to destroy your life and your prospects in an attempt to avenge me._

_Anomen, since last I laid eyes upon your dear face, I have known the greatest happiness, and the greatest despair. You must surely know that I, as do most maidens, have longed for love and a family of my own. As my duties to our father have kept me mostly at home, I have had little opportunity for such, so you can imagine my joy at meeting the most wonderful young man imaginable._

_I met him at the Temple of Helm, where I had gone to pray for your safety in the field. As I was leaving, my handkerchief slipped out of my sleeve and dropped to the ground. Imagine my surprise when the most handsome man I had ever seen stopped to pick it up and handed it to me with an engaging smile. His name, it turned out, was Jory Wessalen, the son and heir of the very Prelate Wessalen who leads your own Order of the Most Radiant Heart. We came to talk and found ourselves to be enjoying each other’s company a great deal._

_I will not bore you with the details of Jory’s courtship of me, Anomen. I will say only that it was beautiful and romantic, everything I had ever hoped for. Forgive me for not telling you of it in my letters to you – I wished for it to remain a secret, that I might surprise you upon your return. Also, Jory did not wish for it to become public just yet. The sad state of our family name is such that he needed to be careful in introducing the subject to his father._

_Calamity struck last week in a most unexpected way. Jory had taken me boating on a small lake to the south of the city. It was a hot and sunny day, and he took his coat off as we paused to rest upon the shore. Jory quickly fell asleep, and as I rested, I noticed that his coat was getting rumpled, and reached to straighten it out. As I did so, a small package fell out. Curious, I opened it. Ah, I can see your reproachful face even now – I know I should not have done it. It was curiosity that got the better of me, and I have regretted it ever since. What I found inside that parcel was the dreaded herb known as Black Lotus. I knew it well – as you know Father never much approved of ‘frivolous’ romance novels and the like, but Mother’s old Botany book was among the permitted ones. There was one other thing, a brief note from an unknown person calling himself ‘Noose’, telling Jory to meet with him tomorrow evening at the docks._

_The matter is clear, the man I love is in thrall of a foul drug, and I will not rest until I see him saved. I will follow him to this meeting, I will learn who is the villain supplying the drug, and I will see that person punished for his misdeeds. I dare bring no others into this as yet, not without proof, especially since a scandal might be fatal for Jory. I know I walk into great danger, yet how could I turn back at this point? Just as yourself, I have ever tried to do the right thing, and I will not betray my principles now._

_I am, and remain, your loving sister,_

_Moira_

For a minute or so, Anomen simply sat, reading and rereading the letter, a look of numb grief on his face. “Moira…” he finally said. “Oh Moira, why? Why didn’t you come to me before, why didn’t you wait?”

Jaheira reached out to take his hand, squeezing it gently. “She did what she thought was for the best,” she said. “She would not have been your sister if she had not.” 

The cleric swallowed hard; she could feel his fingers enveloping her own. “I…thank you, Jaheria,” he said. “That means a lot to hear.” Then, his face turned hard. “I will find this miscreant called ‘Noose’,” he said. “I will find him, if I have to scour the docks and interrogate every sewer rat in the city.”

“There should be no need for that, I think,” Jaheira replied. “Think of it – there is one person who is bound to know more of where to find this drug smuggler.” 

It took only a moment for Anomen’s confused look to be transformed into eager comprehension. “Jory Wessalen,” he said. “Of course. Yes, let us seek out my sister’s admirer.” 

“What do you know of him? Have you ever met him?”

“I have, briefly, as he sometimes visits his father at the Order, but I cannot claim to know him well.”

“He is not a paladin himself then?”

“No.” Anomen straightened up a little, a faint flush suffusing his cheeks. “He…is the sole heir to his father’s holdings, and Prelate Wessalen apparently wishes him to manage the estates.”

“As your father wanted for you.” Jaheira briefly touched the young man’s cheek, feeling a sudden fierce urge to comfort him. “Anomen, Jory Wessalen is not you.”

“I dare say he is not. My father made that very clear to me, on several occasions.” 

Jaheira smiled. “Anomen…you misunderstand me. Jory Wessalen is not you, and you are not Jory Wessalen. And personally, I am happy that way. He could be the most talented and pleasant man in the world, but it is you who are my friend. I would not change you for the world.” 

He blinked at her, and a sudden, boyish grin spread across his face. “Not even my detestable temper?”

“Well…” Jaheira said, pretending to consider. “There is that. But you seem to have managed to get it down to a reasonable level, so…” 

Here, she was interrupted by Minsc, who came bounding up to them, beaming brightly. He was dragging an elderly gnome along with him, a curious little man with huge whiskers whom Jaheira seriously hoped would not turn out to be named ‘Jansen’. 

“Look, my friends!” Minsc stated, holding the gnome up proudly. “Look what I found!” 

“That is a gnome,” Anomen said in a flat voice. 

“You were not going to ask to keep him, were you?” Jaheira added, crossing her arms across her chest. 

“Oh no, Minsc has Boo, and that is quite enough. No, good Tuppy Jansen here is a seller of fine items, and he had a wonderful idea of something you would wish to buy.” 

“I really do not wish to buy anything,” Jaheira said in her frostiest voice, but she was interrupted by the gnome. 

“No, no, my dear lady, not you,” he squeaked. “It is for the fine gentleman here…well, to buy at least.” He held up what seemed to be a necklace of sorts…a bronze locket, with a lid to open up. “You see,” he said, “I can use my magic to enchant this necklace…giving it a fine portrait of yourself and the lovely lady, to remember for always. Would that not be a wondrous gift to give her, one to always remind you of her…ah…smoldering good looks?”

“I will make you smolder if you do not cease mocking me, gnome,” Jaheira snarled, getting to her feet, but Anomen’s hand on her arm stopped her. 

“Jaheira,” he said. “I…really would like to give it to you.”

“You would? But…”

“As a token of my friendship, and the high regard in which I hold you. Will you not accept that?”

Jaheira hesitated, looking from the annoying gnome, to Minsc’s eager face, and finally to Anomen. Eventually, it was the earnest look in a pair of dark blue eyes that decided her. _It would please him – and I do like to see him smile._ “Very well,” she said, smiling herself as she spoke. “I accept.” 

-*-

And yet elsewhere, two rogues were engaged in a pastime that might have surprised most of the people who knew them…

“It’s…a duck. A rabid duck being chased by a fat man with an umbrella.”

“No!” Yoshimo sighed with exasperation. “I tell you; it is…nnnngggh ummmpf!” The bounty hunter rapidly clamped a hand across his mouth to keep himself from saying too much, but his face still turned a shade that reminded Dekaras of a three-day old corpse, and he made a strangled noise in his throat before he managed to get his breath back. 

Things weren’t going too well, the assassin reflected. He and Yoshimo had been attempting to decide the limits of the geas for some time now, but so far it was harder than he had expected. Obviously Yoshimo couldn’t speak directly of the details and attempting to write them down had managed to make his hand cramp up into a twisted claw. It had been an hour before he’d been able to open it again, and at that point he had refused to try again. Dekaras really couldn’t blame him for it. 

So, he had come up with a way around the problem, a way that he had been quite proud of and considered a clever loophole. The idea was that even if Yoshimo couldn’t speak of his geas, and couldn’t write down the details, perhaps he could show them otherwise. Suggesting that the bounty hunter pick up pen and paper and simply draw the pictures that came into his head had seemed reasonable enough – it would allow for free association and improvisation, and if he could relax enough it might circumvent the geas. It had, Yoshimo was still feeling entirely well, so long as he did not actually speak of what he was trying to show. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that it had turned out the Kozakuran couldn’t draw. In fact, Dekaras reflected, Edwin at the tender age of six had managed far better. Granted, he was of course not entirely nonpartisan about the artistic skills of the boy, but still…

Yoshimo bent over the paper, scribbling frenetically, and produced another confusing blur of jumbled lines. Dekaras dutifully looked it over. He was trying. Honestly, he was. “I am sorry,” he said in a doubtful voice. “I truly am. But unless you mean to suggest that it somehow involves you and Irenicus doing unspeakable things to a three-headed monkey, I’m afraid I’m still quite ignorant as to what you mean to say.”

“What?!” Yoshimo blurted out. “Where do you see that?”

“There, right there in the bottom right corner. See, there is the monkey’s tail, right there.”

The bounty hunter snatched the paper out of his hand, frowning, and then he gave Dekaras an accusing look. “You were holding it upside down.” 

“Oh.” The assassin cleared his throat with embarrassment. “My apologies, Yoshimo, but…”

“Ah, it is no matter, my friend,” the other man said with a weary sigh. “It is true, my artistic skills do leave room for improvement. Please, take another look.” His eyes were weary, but still intense and focused. “Look closely, I ask of you. Relax and look…beyond.” 

The assassin turned the paper over and looked at it, not feeling very optimistic about the outcome but unwilling to give up. He forced himself to simply look at the blur of lines before him, no longer studying the individual shapes but trying to look beyond them. _Do not think of what it is meant to look like. Simply look._

And suddenly, he saw. It was all there, hidden from plain sight, yet obvious. The shapes stood out at him, crystal clear, and now he knew he would be able to pick them out at an instant. A line of little stick figures, boarding a ship, one of the females holding a cat in her arms. The little stick figures confronted by a bald stick figure in an outfit that the assassin could only describe as ridiculously tasteless. _And there…ah. Yes._

“I see it,” he said, not quite unable to keep the feeling of triumph from his voice. “I see it very well.” He spoke again, briefly describing what he had seen, and what it meant. Yoshimo did not respond in words – that was still impossible for him. However, the look of hope in the other man’s eyes told him quite enough. 

-*-

“So then what did you do?” Zaerini asked. She was curled up in an armchair inside the small office she had started setting up for herself at the theatre. Softpaws was sleeping soundly on her lap. 

“We paid a visit to Prelate Wessalen’s household,” Anomen said. “Alas, his son has gone out of town and will not be expected back for some days yet, perhaps a week.” 

“We also went to the docks,” Jaheira added. “We had no luck finding this ‘Noose’ person though.” The druid was looking oddly pensive, and now and then she cautiously fingered a thin chain around her neck. 

“I expect somebody by that name wouldn’t really take kindly to people asking questions about him,” Rini mused. Softpaws had turned over onto her back, and the half-elf tickled her familiar’s paws until the cat startled awake with a look of affronted dignity and strode off, tail huffily erect. “So, Ano…this guy Jory…it sounds as if you don’t like him much?”

Anomen hesitated, frowning. “I…have no proper reason to dislike him,” he said. “I do not know him well at all. He is well-bred and well-mannered, and by all accounts a dutiful son.” 

“Yeah, but is he nasty?” Rini hesitated before going on. “I mean, if he and Moira were seeing each other, and they had some sort of falling out…would he…”

“Hurt her?” Anomen said, his face grim. “Truly, I do not know. I would not have thought so, yet I could be mistaken.”

“Well, we must make sure to talk to him as soon as we can.”

“Aye, after we return from our little ogre hunt, he should also be back in Athkatla, my lady. The distraction of hunting down a few cowardly monsters like that should do me good too.”

“And what about this ‘Noose’ person?”

“The docks are large. Much as my soul burns with the desire to locate him, we cannot search them randomly.” 

“Eddie?” Zaerini asked, turning to her lover. “Your teacher said he’d be talking to Yoshimo again. Think he might ask him if he knows who ‘Noose’ is and where he can be found? Yoshimo isn’t a local as such, but he sure knows the docks well.” 

“I will ask,” Edwin agreed, looking slightly troubled. “I only hope he doesn’t take it upon himself to go chasing after some band of cutthroats though or searching through every thief den in Athkatla. He really ought to be laying low, you know.”

“Yeah, I agree, but what if you explain that Anomen wants vengeance himself for his sister’s murder, wouldn’t that be enough to make him hold back? “

“I wouldn’t lie!” Edwin protested, looking quite shocked. “Never, not under any circumstances. (Not unless it should be another matter of life and death, such as in the case of the Icewind Dale thing.)”

“But that would be a lie!” Anomen exclaimed at the same time that the mage spoke. “I seek justice, not vengeance, as befits a true servant of Helm.” 

“All right, all right!” Rini said, throwing her hands into the air. “Geez!” The bard rolled her eyes with mild exasperation. “One little teeny tiny fib, and you both go nuts. Next you’ll probably be telling me I should pay every time I go to the market.” She blinked at the two shocked faces in front of her. “What?” 

“We are drifting away from the topic at hand,” Jaheira dryly remarked. “Edwin, I suggest you tell your teacher simply that Anomen wishes to handle the mater personally. He will respect that, I am sure.”

“Of course he will! He would never break his word.”

“Good, that is that settled then.” The druid nodded to herself and took a list out of her pocket. “And now, let us prepare for tracking that band of ogres. We would not wish to be in any way caught unawares, after all.” 

-*-

_Some days later, at the base of the craggy Windspear Hills…_

“Avaunt, foul villains! Confess your sins to whichever wicked gods you worship, that they might welcome you as you are shortly sent into the hereafter!”

“Er…come again?” Zaerini asked, blinking at the monster before her. It was big, and brutish, with green skin and piggish little eyes. It looked, in other words, like a typical ogre. It was flanked by a pair of orcs and a troll, along with a second ogre and a baby wyvern that hissed angrily at the adventurers. 

“Verily, we should smite them where they stand, that they may burn in the cleansing flames!” agreed the second ogre, a rather plump one with obscenely shaped tusks that bobbed up and down as he spoke. “For there is truly a sense of great Eeeeevil about these creatures, otherworldly and strong.” 

_That one sounds awfully familiar. Now where did I hear…_

“You do not sound like typical ogres,” Jaheira began, at the same time that Anomen raised his voice in alarm. 

“Wait! Do not attack us, we are…”

But it was too late. The monsters were already charging, swinging clubs and crude swords alike. Before they even got near, Edwin spoke a single, chilling word, and the wyvern dropped dead to the ground along with one of the orcs. A lightning bolt from Jan struck the second, making him scream and twitch for the few seconds before Lilarcor sent his head rolling. 

“Yay hay hay!” the sword cheered. “Just call me The Decapitator, baby, ooooh yeah. Bet he didn’t see that one coming till he was staring at his own privates from ground level, ha ha!” 

Finally, the troll was incinerated on the spot by a flurry of quick Flame Arrows from Zaerini. The last remaining ogre, the one with the familiar voice, just had time to blink in confusion before Edwin pointed a finger lazily at him and he disintegrated into a small pile of dust. Oddly enough, the other bodies were disintegrating as well…crumbling as if they had been dead for days rather than mere seconds. 

“Oh no…” Anomen moand, sinking to his knees on the ground, covering his face with his gauntleted hands. “Oh no, dear Helm, oh no…” 

“Ano?” Jan asked. “I don’t see what’s wrong? It’s not as if any of the orcs were related to you, were they? Though come to think of it, odder things have happened, for example my very far removed cousin Maarisu Jansen was half vampire, half solar, half gnome and not all there. Actually, she…” 

“Spare me your infernal stories, idiotic gnome!” Anomen roared. “You don’t see what’s wrong? Then take a closer look! Look close enough, and you may actually comprehend the full magnitude of this disaster.” 

“He is right,” Jaheira said, grimily holding up a platemail boot. 

_Funny…I didn’t notice any of them were wearing full plate before…_ And then Zaerini read what was written underneath the sole of the boot, and she knew exactly why Anomen had been reduced to sitting on the ground, cradling his knees and rocking gently back and forth. ‘Property of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart. If found, please return. If I am slain, please resurrect me.’ 

_Oh crap_ , the bard thought, wincing. _I think this qualifies as more than a mere ‘Oooops’ moment._


	140. The Gazelle and The Lion

**Cards Reshuffled 140 – The Gazelle and The Lion**

_Be very, very careful what you wish for. Sometimes the gods amuse themselves by making wishes come true, even long after you made them and long after you no longer want them, and gods rarely fulfill wishes in an actually likable way._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“We’ve slain a group of paladins…” Anomen moaned, still rocking back and forth. “We’ve slain a group of paladins…” 

“Um…” Zaerini said, for once somewhat uncertain about how to go on. “I don’t suppose there’s any possibility of having them raised, is there?”

Anomen simply wordlessly held up a platemail boot and turned it over, letting the fine dust that was all that remained of the paladin who had worn it trickle out onto the ground. 

“I would say that is a clear ‘no’,” Edwin mused. “Though they may now finally become valuable members of society by being employed to sand garden paths in winter.” 

“Eddie!” his lover hissed, giving him a sharp elbow to the side. “Ano’s really upset about this, and if that doesn’t matter to you just think about all the trouble it could cause us.” 

“Why? We are alone out here; they are all dead so there are no witnesses. We should be perfectly…”

At that moment, a small silver orb rose out of one of the gleaming suits of platemail, spun in the air and then spoke in a metallic voice. “You have been found guilty of slaying paladins of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart”, it said. “Your crime has been reported to the Order headquarters, and a Smiting Squad has been duly dispatched. Remain at the scene of your crime and prepare to face righteous wrath.” Then it gave a shrill shriek as a swarm of Magic Missiles struck it at once, causing it to explode. 

“You were saying?” Jan asked, blowing some smoke off his index finger. 

“Ah…” Edwin said. “Perhaps we had better do something about this, after all. (Not that I could not dispose of an entire paladin order single-handedly, if called upon to do so, but it would be such a waste of my precious time.)” 

“Perhaps I might be of some assistance then, ladies and gentlemen,” a strange voice suddenly said. The adventurers hastily turned around, weapons and spells ready, except for Anomen who was still sitting on the ground, clutching the boot to his chest. They saw an elderly man with gray hair and thick sideburns, slightly stooped and wearing a pair of small spectacles. His clothes were finely cut, yet looked rather worn, as if he was down on his luck, and he was smiling at them. 

“Er…hi there,” Rini said, raising her hand. “And who are you then?” 

“I am Garren Windspear, dear lady,” the old man said. “I saw these knights engage you, both your parties clearly ignorant of the identity of the other.” 

“They were under some form of illusionary spell,” Jaheira agreed, “masked to resemble orcs and ogres. Presumably, they thought the same about us.” 

“Windspear?” Anomen said, looking up. “Windspear as in Windspear Hills?” 

“Indeed, sir.” The man lowered his voice. “But this is not the place to speak of such things, there is no telling who might be listening. Please, will you not come with me to my home? It is not far from here, and I believe I may well aid you with your predicament.” 

Garren Windspear’s home turned out to be a small, yet sturdy cottage, with a charming view of rocks, rocks and yet more rocks, complimented by boulders, gravel and some rocks. Inside, it was neat and clean, but there were only the bare essentials in terms of furniture. “I must apologize for the meager surroundings,” Garren Windpear apologetically said. “I fear my estate is not what it was. Now, if I may ask you, how did you come here in the first place?”

“A noble named Firkraag hired us to hunt ogres,” Zaerini ruefully explained. “It must have been he who set us up, but I don’t get why. I never met him or heard of him before in my life.” 

“Firkraag…” the old nobleman said. “Yes, I see.” He sighed briefly. “It is Firkraag who rules Windspear Hills now, I’m afraid. He ousted me from my position about a year ago.” 

“How?” Jaheira asked. “By force of arms, or trickery?”

“Things started going badly wrong, marauding ogres or bandits, melting away before my men could capture them, yet easily dispersed by him, crops inexplicably burnt..:” 

“Crops?” Edwin whispered. “What does he grow up here, pebbles?” 

“Ssh,” Rini said. “I want to hear this.”

“Eventually, my fortune had been spent on attempting to avert the disasters,” Windspear explained. “Then, Firkraag stepped in. I still hold the legal deed to the lands, but in truth, it is he who rules.”

“But why did you not send for aid?” Anomen asked. His voice was still hoarse, but he seemed a bit more like himself again. “The Order would surely assist you against such a grave misjustice.”

“I did send for aid,” Windspear said. “They arrived only recently; a small company led by one young paladin named Ajantis Ilvastarr.” Then he cleared his throat. “And then, I fear they ran into you.” 

“Oh.” 

“Ajantis…” Zaerini mumbled. “Ajantis,...Ajantis…where have I heard that name before?” Memories of thunder and lightning assaulted her, and she turned suddenly to Jaheira, noticing that the druid was looking as uncomfortable as she felt. “Ooops. Jaheira…wasn’t Ajantis the name of that paladin who got killed by lightning just outside Baldur’s Gate? The really, really nutty one?” 

“I fear so,” Jaheira said. 

“Yeah. Thought I recognized the name. Small world, isn’t it?” 

“You…you killed a paladin _before_?!” Anomen asked, sounding quite horrified. 

“It wasn’t us! He was struck by lightning, we just happened to be standing there.” The bard frowned. “Still…I don’t think he likes me much, even without us killing him just now. Then again, right now I don’t suppose it really makes much of a difference if he does or doesn’t.” 

“Let us try to get back on track,” Jaheira stated. “It is this Firkraag who has engineered the situation in which we find ourselves, and we must confront him about it. We must also try to explain the true state of affairs to the Order though, before we encounter even more paladins who are after our heads.” 

“Well,” Garren Windspear said, “I believe I may help with that. I may not be the in possession of my wealth and estates, but I do possess my good name, and I did see what happened. I would be happy to journey to Athkatla and testify on your behalves.” 

“You would?!” Anomen’s eyes were suddenly alight with new hope. “You would remove this stain upon our honor? Sir Garren, I cannot ever thank you enough, but if there is anything, anything at all that I can do in return…” 

“Well,” the old nobleman said. “There is one small matter, though I do not know if you would wish…”

”Anything, Sir Garren, you have my sworn word upon it.” 

“Spoken like a true knight,” Windspear said with a smile. “Very well. I have only one child, my dear, sweet Namey. Such a good, devoted child, and highly fond of tales of noble knighs and deeds of glory. If, while I am gone, you would consent to guard…”

“Say no more, Sir Garren,” Anomen magnanimously said. “Your child will be kept perfectly safe, that I swear.”

“Now, that is most kind,” Garren beamed. “Namey is somewhat of a dreamer, and adores chivalry and noble knights above all else, as I said. Very innocent, and pure of heart.”

“Sir Garren, it shall be my pleasure to regale your heir with any tales and songs that spring to mind, and I do not doubt the company will be charming.” 

“Oh, you don’t, do you?” Jaheira said, her voice somewhat sharp. “Very well. Child minding is nothing new to me, after all.” 

“Oh, bring in the little child!” Minsc said, clapping his hands. “Boo loves children, and we can play and play all day long!” 

“Ah…very well,” Sir Garren said, and then he clapped his hands. “Namey? Namey, come out and meet our guests, please.” 

There was an excited giggle from behind the door to the next room, and then the door was pulled open, and somebody stepped out. Namey – for Zaerini had to assume that was who it was – was a lovely young lady of perhaps sixteen. She had a beautiful wealth of golden blonde curls tumbling towards the shoulders of her purple velvet dress. Her large, sparkling, and utterly innocent eyes were a lovely dark blue shade that also bordered on purple, and her eyebrows were very carefully shaped. Her skin was almost unbelievably smooth, like the soft petals of a rose, and as she smiled, she revealed a row of pearly white teeth. 

“Honored guests!” she said in a soft, breathy voice. “Words cannot express how much joy it brings me to gaze upon your noble countenances.” 

Rini gave her a sharp look, but no, she seemed to be perfectly sincere. 

“And especially yours, Sir Knight!” Namey said, aiming a dazzling smile at Anomen before shyly lowering her eyelashes. Very thick, and very black eyelashes, currently fluttering nervously. “Y-you are everything I ever dreamed of.” 

“I…” Anomen said, looking rather taken aback. “I…er…that is…”

“I do so look forward to many fond moments together, during which you can speak to me of the lives and adventures of yourself and your fellow knights as well as instruct me in the knightly virtues!” Namey enthusiastically went on, now placing a delicate white hand on the stunned cleric’s arm. Rini dared a quick peak to her side and saw that Jan was clinging to Edwin’s robes, both of them hysterically trying not to laugh out loud, while Jaheira was looking faintly annoyed and Minsc simply looked puzzled. 

“I…I…you see…” Anomen went on, now beet red in the face. “I am not truly a knight yet, having yet to pass my Test…” 

“And you shall, I have not a single doubt about it!” Namey said, smiling prettily. “For there is a strength and a nobility about you that causes me to feel as the gentle gazelle in the presence of the lordly lion.” 

“Careful, cleric,” Edwin said in a low voice. “Do not eat her; I believe your Order frowns upon cannibalism.” 

“So,” Garren Windspear said, “You will take good care of and protect my child as I am away then, my friends?” 

“Um…sure,” Rini managed. Namey was clinging tightly to Anomen’s arm by now, telling him that he had a very manly biceps and could probably carry a frail young thing like Namey from here to Athkatla. “Yeah. Really good care.” 

_Though I think it really is Ano who’s going to be in need of protection._

-*-

“Stand.” 

That voice. That cold, dispassionate voice, reaching into her mind and chilling her soul. It was impossible to contradict it, to defy it. She found herself rising automatically, obedient to his command. 

_Not even a charm spell this time…he would cast charm spells on me and he’d make me do things, he made me do things, made me…no, don’t want to! No, please no! This isn’t real, he can’t be here, he’s…somewhere else. Far away._

And yet there he was, her nemesis, standing right in front of her, watching her with blue eyes as hard and cold as a glacier, brilliant behind his leather mask. She was in some kind of castle room, she thought, stone walls all around, tapestries on the walls. The stone floor was cold beneath her bare feet, it made them feel like lumps of ice, and she shivered in her thin nightdress. 

“Go away,” she said, and hated herself for the trembling of her voice. “You’re not him, I know you’re not. Go away, ‘father’, leave me alone.” 

“You do not have the power to make me do so,” he calmly stated, crossing his arms across his chest. “You have passion, but you lack power, and all through your own doing, for clinging to the world of flesh and inferior creatures. You walk among them as a mortal, using not a tenth of your potential, and so many of them are still greater than you are. Observe.”

He waved his hand in the air, and a replica of herself stood there, perfect in every detail from the bright red hair to the lightly pointed ears. It screamed, devoured by roaring flames sent against it by a cackling lich. 

“Why do you stand for this?” he asked, and now there was in fact a hint of emotion beyond curiosity in his voice, telling her who he really was. “Why do you submit, when death is bred in your bones? When the world of flesh is beneath you, even creatures mysterious and magical will fall.” 

Another wave of his hand, and the replica stood there again. This time, it was laughing triumphantly, its eyes burning as bright as those of her lost brother Sarevok, burning like the fires of the Abyss. The lich fell, obliterated with a single word, and then a tentacled Illithid, a hissing vampire, and others, creatures she couldn’t even put a name to. 

“Follow,” he finally said. “Follow and receive what you are owed due to the blood in your veins. Follow, if only because of those who fell because of you.”

And then, Imoen was there, standing before her, just looking at her with tears in her eyes. 

“Immy…Immy, I’m sorry, I will come, I promise, I promise!” She clutched at her best friend, trying to hug her closely, but Imoen’s form melted away, dissolving into mist. 

“I know…” Imoen said, and her voice was filled with sadness. “But you will come too late.”

“Immy! No!” Zaerini sat up abruptly, choking off a scream as she stared with wild eyes at the surrounding darkness. Where was she? She didn’t know, didn’t remember, and the panic was squeezing her chest so hard she could barely breathe. Then, her lover’s arms were around her, holding her close, as he murmured words of comfort into her ear and just held her. Finally, her heartbeat slowed to a more normal pace, and she managed a tentative smile. 

“A dream,” she told him. “Just another bad dream. I hope I didn’t wake the others.”

“They are asleep still,” he whispered, stroking her hair gently. 

And so it seemed, the house of Garren Windspear was quiet and calm. The scream must have been in her dream only, then. “It was Bhaal,” she explained. “He made himself look like Irenicus…but it was him, I knew him.” She paused, thinking. “He wants me to find Irenicus. I don’t know why it matters to him, but it does.”

“If he wants it, it cannot be a good thing.” 

“I know. But I have no choice.” Rini bit her lip, remembering the rest of the dream only too clearly. “Immy…she was in my dream too, and she was crying. She was lost, and in danger, and she said we’d be too late. I wanted us to have not just the money for the Shadow Thieves, but proper weapons and armor as well, but what if I’ve waited too long already? What if it’s already too late?”

Edwin paused, his fingers caressing soothingly along her collarbone. “I have no fondness for the Cowled Wizards, my Hellkitten, and you know it,” he said. “And yet, even if they hold Imoen due to this perverted ‘magic license’ law of theirs, would they do her outright harm?”

“I don’t know, Eddie. I just don’t know. They whisk people off to this secret prison of theirs, no real trial or anything, and nobody even knows where this prison is. If they want to hurt people, who will know of it, or stop them?”

“You did what you thought was best. If you had rushed off blindly, the moment you escaped the Masked Madman, you would have failed, and you know it.”

“I know.”

”For one thing, you would not have had the aid of Edwin Odesseiron, King of Conjurers and divinely skilled master of the Erotic Onslaught.” 

Zaerini couldn’t quite keep a low giggle back. “Well, that’s true I guess.”

“And we will find your annoying little friend soon enough, I promise you.” He bent down to kiss her. “If you insist, we will even bring her out of there.”

The half-elf smiled, feeling somewhat better already. “I do insist. Just as soon as we deal with the business of the paladin-ogres and the nasty Firkraag. In fact, I think that…” 

And at that moment, the silence was abruptly broken by the hiss and crackle of magic, as a silver portal formed in the air and a group of bandits came storming through it. 

-*-

_Deep withing the dungeons of Spellhold…_

She hadn’t been let out of her cell yet today. Imoen huddled on her cot, clutching her knees firmly with her arms, as she stared at the door, willing it to open. 

_Come on, come on, come on! Let me out already, my head’s about to go poof with boredom!_

It was weird though, that the guards hadn’t come for her yet. Normally they’d bring her breakfast, and then an hour or so later she’d get to go to the open rooms and meet the other inmates. She’d have been happy to talk to any of them right now, including Tiax. The breakfast had come in the normal way, but it had been hours and hours since then, and nobody had come to open the door. She hoped it didn’t mean they’d want to do their tests on her today. The tests didn’t actually harm her, but they were nasty all the same, and she hated having her mind poked and prodded. That reminded her of…

_No! Don’t think of him! Think of something nice instead, like puppies or kittens._ Imoen tried that for a while, until the kittens started to grow horrible blue eyes and leather masks. _OK, that’s not working. Think of something else then. Think of Rini, she’ll come rescue you soon, you know._

Only…her best friend had been hurt when she last saw her, hurt by Him, nearly broken. _And Rini wouldn’t have much money, or really good weapons. Even if she manages to find me…suppose they hurt her?_ Imoen bit her lip, trying not to think of that. Surely there must be something else to think about, something to distract her…oh yeah! That was it.

Imoen jumped down from the cot and pulled her latest work of art out from under it, giving it an adoring look. The Statue was coming along very nicely, even if she had to work without a model this time around, since Adahn sadly was not available. _Not that I’d want him to be in jail with me…well, maybe just a little bit, I’d get to have him all to myself and I know of that secret panel that lets you peek into the male inmates bath after all. I guess Aphril doesn’t really need it since she sees everything anyway, but it sure was nice of her to tell me, even if there’s nothing much exciting to look at in there right now anyway._

Adahn though… Imoen smirked at The Statue, admiring her work. _Yeah yeah, so maybe he’s taken. But I bet whoever she is would just love to have this in her bedroom! Only she can’t, cause it’s all mine, so nyah to her!_

She only needed to paint it now, and she’d do that whenever they came to let her out, she decided. _Now, in the stories he’d come charging to my rescue of course, and he’d kill every Cowlie who tried to stop him rescuing me, and then he’d put me on his big white horse…no, wait, black horse…and we’d ride off into the sunset together! Only, they say this is an island, so I guess a horse wouldn’t be much good. A big black boat then? A pirate ship, yes, that’s it! And we could run off and be pirates together, plundering and going ‘Arr’, and I could have a parrot of my very own. And I could wear one of those lacy outfits that come right off, except of course I could still fight really well with a rapier, and swing on ropes and stuff, and then some stuffy old naval officer would go all ‘But he’s a scoundrel!’. And I’d say ‘No, he’s a pirate!’ And then we’d kiss. Not me and the stuffy old naval officer, of course, that would be boring. And then…_

There were sounds outside, Imoen suddenly noticed. Very faint and far in the distance, but it sounded like…explosions? Explosions and screams? 

_It’s him! I just bet it’s him come to rescue me…or else it’s Rini. I knew she’d come! Hope she doesn’t blow the whole place up before we get out though._

Now there was a sound closer by, just outside the door to her cell, and she hurried to push The Statue back under the cot, just in case Adhan might be with them. She wouldn’t want him to see it just yet, not before she had time to paint it. Imoen hurriedly ran her fingers through her hair, trying to straighten it out, and put on her best smile. 

“Heya!” she said as the door started to swing open. “What took you so long…”

Then, the words died on her lips and she shrank back against the wall, staring in horror into a pair of blue eyes as cold as death. _No…no, no, no! It can’t be, he’s locked up, he’s locked up…_

“Hello little one,” the calm voice said behind the leather mask. “You and I have a great deal to do.” 

-*-

The home of Garren Windspear was a nightmare of confusion and violence, as battle raged throughout the dark rooms. Zaerini stuck close to Edwin, she had managed to snatch up her sword, but his bags of spell components were still somewhere in his discarded robes, and she didn’t intend to leave him defenseless. 

_Behind you, kitten!_ Softpaws voice was sharp with warning, and she spun around, sword thrusting deeply into the belly of the ragged man who had been about to take her head off with an axe. The axe clattered to the floor, and the man followed, a puddle of dark wetness spreading out around him. It was hot under her bare feet, hot and sticky, and she cursed as she almost slipped and fell. Edwin just managed to catch her by the arm, hauling her upright. 

And there was Minsc, roaring in berserker fury as he grabbed two bandits by their necks, ramming their heads together with a sickening crack. Jaheira moved as swiftly and fluently as a dancer, her quarterstaff connecting with a man’s throat hard enough to make him die choking. It was with an odd sense of detachment that Rini noticed that the druid’s nightgown was looking practically transparent in the faint moonlight filtering in through the windows, but she soon forgot about that as Jaheira reverted to fur and fangs, and proceeded to tear bandit throats out in wolf form. Jan was in the same predicament as Edwin, having no access to his spell components, and not daring to fire his crossbow in the darkened room, so he contented himself with darting in and out among the enemies, confusing them. And Anomen…

_Ano…where is he?_

“No!” Anomen’s voice rang out behind her. “NO!”

Rini turned around just in time to see a second magical portal flash into existence, and a female shape jump into it, dragging with her a struggling young woman. 

“No!” Namey screamed. “Sir knight, aid me in my hour of need, I beg of you!” 

Anomen launched himself at the portal, the Flail of Ages spinning dangerously in the air, but it was too late. Before the weapon could strike the fleeing mage, she was already gone, and her victim with her. As the last of the bandits fell, Anomen dropped to his knees, his head bowed with defeat. 

Light flickered through the cabin, held aloft on Edwin’s palm as the wizard raised his hand. He had finally managed to dig his spell components out – too late to help with the battle, sadly. _At least he’s safe._ “I wish to register a complaint,” he said, giving the assorted bleeding bodies a disgusted look. “I was right in the middle of a pleasant conversation (And possibly about to move on to more advanced nocturnal activities) when all these apes decided to interrupt.” 

“Take it up with Firkraag,” Jaheira suggested. “This has to be his work.” She stepped lightly across the now still body of the man Zaerini had stabbed, and carefully put a hand on Anomen’s shoulder. The locket she was wearing at her throat reflected the light in a brief flash. _That’s pretty…she must have got it in Athkatla. Wonder where she bought it?_ “Anomen?”

“Ruin…” the cleric whispered. “We…I have failed. Our host entrusted us with the life of his child, and now…”

“We don’t know that,” Rini said. “I’m sure Namey is still alive, why else would they abduct her rather than just kill her here?” 

“Astute as always, your worship,” Jan agreed. “Take a gander at this little note I found conveniently placed in the pocket of one of these corpses.” He held it up and read out loud. 

_Zaerini of Candlekeep, I give you the opportunity to earn back your honor, and more. This game is interesting, but it drags on and on. Come, let us meet and decide who is the better 'person.' In the Northeast is our battleground. You will know it to see it. Yes, I think you will know._

“A challenge from the icky evil lord!” Minsc said, smacking his fist against his palm. “And he has taken the poor little child, we must spank him hard for this until his bottom bleeds with the tears of repentance, so says Minsc!” 

“Who the heck is this Firkraag anyway?!” Rini angrily exclaimed. “I never even heard of him before, so why’s he out to get me?” 

“Because of your unique heritage, surely,” Jaheira suggested. 

“I don’t think so, or at least not just because of that. It seems to be personal somehow.”

“Be that as it may, we have no choice,” the druid said. “Not just decency but necessity compels us, we must save Windspear’s child.”

“Aye,” Anomen said, finally getting to his feet. His face was grim, and his jaw set. “We must go at once, to save Namey though it cost us our very lives.” 

“That is beyond a doubt the most idiotic plan in the history of the world, ever since the first paladin suggested ‘let’s kill everything that glows red’,” Edwin said. “(Why is there always such prejudice against the king of colours, I ask you?). Let us save the brat by all means, since it seems we are obliged to our host to do so, not to mention that we have been insulted by this attack. I prefer to stay alive however.” 

“Save Namey, stay alive,” Rini said with a nod. “I like that plan. Now, here’s a strange thing…why does he say ‘person’ that way? Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” 

“Indeed, it does,” Jaheira agreed. “I am starting to think that this Firkraag may be far more than a mere power-hungry Amnian noble.” 

“And I’m starting to think I like the look of that outfit,” Jan suggested with a grin. “It’s very you, all natural and that.” 

Jaheira sniffed, gave the gnome a cool look, and made absolutely no move to cover herself. “In the heat of battle, I have more important matters to consider than my state of dress,” she said. “Objections?”

Jan merely shook his head, and Edwin followed suit. As for Anomen, he blinked very rapidly, and hastily looked away, his cheeks scarlet. 

“Good. Now, if that is settled, we should get going. Dawn is approaching, and we have a rescue to plan.” 

-*-

Rini puzzled over the note she meant to leave for Garren Windspear for quite some time. If they were lucky, he wouldn’t return from Athkatla until they had time to rescue Namey, but she didn’t want to count on that. _But how can I tell him that we let his child get kidnapped right under our very noses? That’s just too embarrassing._ In the end, she made the letter brief, and ended with firm reassurances that they’d see Namey safely home, no matter what. It would have to do. 

It was Anomen who set the pace as they left, and he kept such a high tempo that Rini wondered if he meant to wear them all out. “I cannot abide this stain upon my honor,” the cleric confided when she questioned him about it. “First the slain paladins, and now this…”

“But Ano, the thing with the paladins wasn’t your fault. Not Namey’s kidnapping either, at least not just your fault. We all should have watched her better, I guess.”

“That may be so, but I had sworn to protect her, and I failed. I must make amends for that.”

“Well, all right.” She frowned. “Only promise me that you won’t rush straight up to Firkraag and demand that he release Namey. We’ll need to be clever about this, I’m sure he won’t be alone. Not to mention that I still think there must be more to him than there seemed to be at first. Maybe he’s a wizard or something.” 

Anomen gave her a faint smile. “I promise you, my lady, that I shall endeavor to act with full discretion.” 

“Oh. Good.”

They walked in silence for a while, disturbed only by Minsc’s rambling in the distance about how he wished they might come across some friendly mountain squirrels for Boo to play with. 

“Did you notice that locket Jaheira’s wearing?” she finally asked. “It’s pretty, and I never saw it before, so I guess it must be new.” 

“That…would seem likely, my lady, yes.” 

“She keeps touching it whenever she thinks nobody sees. You don’t suppose it’s some kind of Harper necklace, do you? I know she’s still upset over what’s happened with them, I wish there were something I could do about it.” 

Anomen blinked. “A Harper necklace…” He looked over to where Jaheira was walking. The druid was conversing with Edwin, and oddly enough neither one seemed to be sniping at the other. “I could not say, my lady. She…touches it, you say?”

“Yes. And then she looks…I don’t know. Sort of happy, but sad at the same time. That’s why I thought it might be something to do with the Harpers. Think I should ask her?”

“That might not be a good idea. She could be upset by it.”

“I guess…then again, I’m her friend. I want to help her feel better and…” Zaerini suddenly broke off, cupping a hand to her ear. “Did you hear that?” 

“I heard nothing,” Anomen asked, giving her a questioning look. 

“There was something…sounded like singing.” The half-elf turned a little to the east. “That way.”

“But my lady, Firkraag!” 

“It’s not far, I can hear that much. Besides, it might be somebody who can help tell us where he lives. North and east is rather vague, you know.” 

“You heard it too, child?” Jaheira said, coming up to them. “I agree that we should find out more about it. Move in that direction, but not too fast. I will be right back.” And she melted into the gray form of a swift wolf, and loped off across the rocks, not waiting for a reply. 

“But…” Anomen started. 

“Save your breath, Ano. She’s too far off to hear you now, anyway.” Zaerini shrugged and grinned at her friend. “She’s not exactly a tame wolf, you know. Wouldn’t want her to be either.”

“No, indeed not,” Anomen agreed, still looking in the direction Jaheira had run off. “Yet I cannot help worrying.” 

They kept walking, and it wasn’t long before Jaheira returned, in her regular shape. “I have excellent news,” she said, smiling as she brushed her golden-brown hair, tangled from the run, out of her face. “For I have met somebody we can help, and who can surely help us in return. Allow me to introduce the Queen of the Dryads of Windspear.” 

Behind Jaheira came a beautiful woman, with long silvergreen hair and soft brown skin the color of young bark. She was wearing a short tunic made of leaves, and her eyes were filled with laughter. “Hail, friends,” she said, and her voice was the music of wind in the treetops. “Have you then come to test yourselves against Firkraag, the Great Red Dragon?” 

Zaerini merely stared at her for a few seconds, trying to digest this. _Dragon. Firkraag. Great red dragon. Could this get any worse?_

Then, she noticed the enthusiastic look that had lit up Edwin’s eyes the moment the word ‘dragon’ was mentioned. 

_Yeah, I guess it can. Erevan, if it’s all right to send a prayer your way – please stop Eddie from trying to tame him._


	141. Firkraag Himself

**Cards Reshuffled 141 – Firkraag Himself**

_Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons, for they hold grudges and think they are subtle._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’._

“We…didn’t know that Firkraag was a dragon,” Zaerini said, trying to force her heart out of her mouth and back to its proper place. “Didn’t have any idea, really.”

“A dragon?” Edwin said, his eyes still glinting with excitement. “A red dragon, you say? Is he huge? Is he unbearably magnificent? (All my life I have longed to encounter such a creature, and now at last my dream will come true!)”

“Fortunately, I have only seen him from a distance,” the Dryad Queen responded. “But yes, he is very large indeed. His lair is to the north from here, further up in the hills.” 

“We will have to seek him out there,” Jaheira said in a grave voice. “But first, we have brought you something, your Majesty.” 

“We have?” Rini asked, feeling momentarily nonplussed. 

“The acorns, child. You remember.”

“Oh! Right!” The half-elf started searching her pockets, drawing out in turn a ball of twine, some catnip, several gold pieces in small change, a torn ticket to the Five Flagons Theatre, a hair ribbon and a small white feather. _I wonder how the heck that got in there?_ Finally, she found what she had been searching for, three smooth brown acorns, and held them out in the palm of her hand towards the dryad. “Um, here,” she said. “We met three friends of yours – they were being held prisoner, and they wanted us to bring you these.” 

“My sisters!” the dryad exclaimed, eagerly taking the acorns. “I must aid them at once.” She bent down and carefully planted the acorns in the earth, then said a few quiet words over them. At first nothing seemed to happen, but then there was movement. The earth was rising in three small mounds, rising upwards, and now tiny green leaves were shooting out as well. There was a green haze in the air around the three growing young trees, and a sound as of distant birdsong. The trees kept growing, until they were tall young saplings, as tall as a man, and then settled down, the leaves on their quivering branches whispering in the wind. “Come to me, my sisters,” whispered the Dryad Queen. “You are free at last.” 

Again, the trees trembled gently, and the sound of birdsong intensified. And then they seemed to melt and change, and three female shapes stepped out from behind them. Or was it from around them, or inside them? Rini couldn’t tell for sure, all she knew was that one moment there was one dryad, and then there were four. She recognized the three newcomers from Irenicus’ dungeon, although they were looking both healthier and happier by now. They all bowed, smiling, before their queen and the adventurers. 

“We cannot thank you enough,” said one. 

“You have freed us from our enslavement, giving us a new life,” said the other. 

“Our blessing will go with you, always,” said the third. 

The Dryad Queen smiled. “I wish there was more we could do for you,” she said. “But we dryads do not own gold, or gems, or any of the other things that adventurers might desire. Still, if there is anything at all…”

“Your gratitude will be all the repayment we require, fair lady!” Anomen said. “And now we must depart, for we are on yet another mission of rescue, and a most urgent one.”

“We do go to face Firkraag,” Jaheira said. “If you know the way, perhaps you could show us?”

“My sisters require rest, after their long imprisonment,” said the Dryad Queen. “I will guide you myself, and gladly.” 

“And tell us what you know about him on the way?” Rini asked. “Seems we missed out on a few details…”

“Now, now, your Worship,” Jan said with a twinkle in his eyes. “You should know I can tell you everything you’ll ever need to know about Red Dragons. For one thing, my uncle Marty was one.”

“A Red Dragon?” asked the Dryad Queen, her eyes very wide. “But you are a gnome, are you not? How…”

“Don’t ask!” Edwin hastily said. “Just…don’t encourage him. (The pain…the pain right between my eyes…)”

“I’m glad you asked, oh noblesome treelady!” Jan cheerfully went on. “He wasn’t born a dragon, of course, it was the result of a little mishap with a curse. One night he goes to sleep in all his gnomish handsomeness, and the next morning he wakes up covered with scales and setting fire to the roof with his snores. It was all very tragical, all these adventurers would come and try to kill him, since that is after all what adventurers do. Now, Marty was always a peaceful sort, even as a dragon, so he’d always try to talk to them first, but what with his breath there wasn’t much left for him to negotiate with. He probably would have been killed eventually, if he hadn’t had the brilliant idea to become a poodle.” 

“A…poodle…” the Dryad Queen said in a stunned voice. 

“Oh yes, a poodle! Marty went to court, to become legally declared a poodle, brilliantly represented by yours truly. After all, a poodle has four legs, and floppy ears, and a tail, right? Well, so did Marty. And it has a little pink bow on its head – that was easily fixed too. It runs around in circles and yaps a lot, so I had him do that around the courthouse…”

“But poodles are soft and fluffy!” Edwin interrupted with an air of indignation. Then he cleared his throat. “Not that I have a particular experience with them, since they are not suitable pets for a Red Wizard of high standing. No, of course not.” 

“Woolly vest,” Jan triumphantly explained. “Very large and fluffy one. Marty did great with the yapping, and begging, and he even played dead…squashed one of the judges there, sadly, but him licking the others helped his case.”

“I suppose they were too terrified to deny him,” Jaheira said in a dry voice. 

“Maybe so, maybe so! Anyway, Marty is now legally a poodle, and a very fine poodle indeed. He works as the official lapdog of an elderly wizard whose landlord forbade all ‘exotic pets’. Poodles are perfectly acceptable of course.”

“Well, I doubt we can convince Firkraag to become an official poodle,” Rini said with a quick grin. “Any ideas at all about how to tackle him? I have to say, I don’t really look forward to fighting another dragon, we only barely survived the last one, and this time we don’t have Mazzy along.” 

“Minsc’s Witch need fear no nasty dragons!” Minsc proclaimed, waving Lilarcor about in the air so that the Dryad Queen had to duck with a surprised yelp. “Minsc and Boo will chop the head off the Giant Evil Lizard, and Boo will nibble the edges, so it doesn’t grow back again.” 

“That would be hydras, not dragons,” Edwin commented. “A dragon’s head won’t grow back again. (Not that you stand any chance of removing it without the aid of my supreme magic, of course.)”

“All the better! But be careful, Evil Wizard, the reach of Minsc is great, and if your head got in the way of my sword my Witch would be sad.” 

“Whereas if you got in the way of a fireball or two, she would probably thank her lucky star to be relieved of you and that motheaten furball of yours!” 

“That’s enough,” Rini interrupted. “Dangerous red dragon, remember? We need to focus here.” She turned to the Dryad Queen. “I guess you must see Firkraag around sometimes then? What does he do?”

“Not much,” the dryad responded. “He spends most of his time in his lair, though sometimes he will come out to hunt the wild goats that live in the hills – and the orc and goblin tribes, of course.” 

“Orc and goblin tribes?”

“Oh yes, these hills are quite littered with them. There are also several werewolf packs higher up in the mountains.” 

The adventurers looked at each other. “Well, that settles that,” Edwin said. “Old Windspear is clearly either senile or insane if he actually wants these lands back. (And the insanity would seem to be hereditary too.)” 

“Anything else?” Jaheira asked.

“Well, there is a small meadow up in the hills. Firkraag goes there sometimes, though I’m not sure why – there is nothing to hunt there.” 

“It might be worth taking a look at,” the druid reflected. “If you could just give me directions to that place and to Firkraag’s lair, we will be most grateful.” 

“What could possibly be so interesting about a meadow?” Anomen asked. 

Jaheira frowned, twirling one of her braids around her thumb. “I do not know. Dragons are not known for their appreciation of nature. It is unusual – and as such, it bears finding out more about.”

As the adventurers traveled further north, the landscape became even rockier than before, and steeper as well. Rini was starting to find it somewhat difficult to climb, and Jan had to be carried by Minsc across some of the worse parts. Eventually, they saw something in the distance that was not a natural rock formation. Rather, it looked like a gate, or a tunnel opening perhaps. It was flanked by two statues of gigantic dragons, and yet another stone dragon lurked on top of the entrance. 

“Charming decorations,” Jaheira said. 

“Oh yes,” Edwin agreed. “Quite unique and appealing really – I wouldn’t mind having those at home. Hm, I wonder if they are detachable…”

“We can’t carry those things around!” Rini protested. “Even if we had a Bag of Holding, which we don’t, they wouldn’t fit in it I’m sure.”

“Besides, we have more important concerns,” Anomen said, gazing worriedly towards the dark entrance. “A poor innocent soul languishes within that vile nest of evil, and it is our sworn duty to rescue her.” 

“Right you are.” Zaerini bowed to the Dryad Queen, smiling. “Thank you again, and goodbye.” 

“It is I who must thank you,” she responded. “And now I must go, I am too far from my tree for my liking. I bid you farewell, and good luck.” With that, she quietly slipped away, pausing to wave in farewell. 

“Oh joy and great jubilation!” Minsc exclaimed, hugging Zaerini and Jaheira close to him. “The Heroes of Goodness and the Evil Wizard go to fight a great red Dragon of Evil Doom! Should we fall in battle, our souls will feast forever in the halls of our ancestors, but we will not fall, oh no! We will live to sponge up the blood of our wicked foe with the Mop of Righteousness, right Boo?”

“Squeak,” said Boo, and there was a worryingly eager look in those beady little dark hamster eyes of his. 

“Uh…right Minsc,” Zaerini said, looking nervously into the dark tunnel entrance. “As long as we can keep our own blood on the inside of our bodies, all right?”

“No reason to fear,” Edwin said. “After all, we are merely going to be fighting a poodle, yes?”

-*-

“It’s a long way down, isn’t it?” Zaerini said a little later, peering over the edge of the vast black pit situated in middle of the cave. Far, far below, she could just make out the sound of heavy snoring, and there was the faint smell of smoke in the air.

“Not that close to the edge!” Edwin protested, grasping her by the waist. “Not unless you were planning to drop yourself straight into the dragon’s maw. (The only one permitted to nibble on her would be myself, and then only gently.)” 

“Hey, there’s an idea…well, not to drop me, but maybe we could drop rocks or something?”

Jaheira, who was standing a bit further away from the edge, shook her head. “That would be most unwise. We could not be certain of hitting him, but we would be certain of waking him up.” 

“Not to mention that we might hit his victim,” Anomen added. 

“You know Ano,” Jan said with a twinkle in his eyes, “you seem to be very keen on rescuing that young human. “Shall the rest of us prepare for a romantic moment between the dashing knight and the blushing damsel in distress?”

“Outrageous cheek!” the cleric sputtered. “My aim is solely to rescue a fellow human being in distress…in need I mean…that is, I do not…”

“There, there, Ano,” Jan said, patting him on the arm. “We all understand.” 

“No! Truly, it is nothing of the sort!” 

“Of course it’s not,” Jaheira said in a curt voice. “Now, I would like to move on before we all gather moss, or the dragon wakes, whichever happens first.” 

“Oh YES!” Minsc cheered, raising Lilarcor into the air and waving it about. “Time to go kill the icky evil dragon, and cook him in his own fire! Look at little Boo, his mouth is watering just thinking about it! Nasty dragon yummy, going STRAIGHT DOWN THE TUMMY!” 

From inside the chasm, there was a loud and surprised snort, and then a puff of smoke. A moment of deep silence followed, during which nobody really moved or drew breath. Then, the snoring started again, and everybody exhaled at once. 

“I think,” Edwin said, “that the moss had best grow quickly if it is to even stand a chance.” 

Several hours later, deep within Firkraag’s lair, Zaerini sighed wearily and sat down on the floor of a recently cleared chamber, leaning her head against Edwin’s shoulder. Her eyelids felt as heavy as lead, and she couldn’t quite suppress a large yawn. “Let’s see now,” she said. “Orcs, goblins, a pack of werewolves, that air elemental thingy that lived on the bottom of a well, golems, more golems, more werewolves, that nasty treasure hunter woman who wanted to kill us all, vampires, ghouls, fire elementals, trolls…you’d think a Red Dragon would be able to defend himself without surrounding himself with all these random monsters.” 

“Well,” her lover replied, “they have provided us with some treasure, at least.” 

“I guess so. Once we get out of here, we should have enough to pay Gaelan Bayle, and go after Immy. I guess I’m just impatient, I’m worried about her and I want to get out of here.” 

“Very understandable. But we must stay focused; the dragon surely cannot be far off now.” 

At that moment, Jaheira, who had been standing guard near the entrance to a dark tunnel leading downwards, raised her hand in warning. “Somebody is coming,” she said. “I hear voices.”

Zaerini listened closely, and yes, she could hear it too. Two voices, female, yet rather harsh and guttural, coming closer. 

“That lizard be askin’ for havin’ his tail smacked, if ya ask me,” one said. “We be better off without him.” 

“Aye mon,” said the second. “But thass only nat’ral, he be flyin’ so high he be touchin’ da sky, mosta de time.” 

_Huh?_ Rini just had time to think, and then the two speakers became visible and she was too distracted by staring at them to think much of what they had been saying. One of them was clearly an orc, looking strong and muscular if not as bulky as her male counterparts, with green skin and a thick white ponytail proudly emerging from an otherwise shaved head. Her eyes were large and a quite pretty blue colour, and glared threateningly at the adventurers. At her side, a large black lion crouched, and the soft rumble in his throat was definitely not a purr. Her companion was a troll, tall and blueskinned, with jutting tusks and an orange topknot. She had stuck a small bone of undetermined origin through her nose, Zaerini noticed. One of her hands rested on the back of…of…

_Either that is a giant blue chicken, or this place is starting to affect my mind._

_Who cares?_ Softpaws said in a distracted voice. She had sidled up to the lion, rubbing herself against his leg while purring contentedly. The lion was looking very confused. _Mmmm…isn’t he divine?_

On closer inspection, perhaps the bird wasn’t quite a chicken, after all. For one thing, it looked far more capable of kicking somebody’s face in than your regular chicken would be. 

“Pinkskins,” said the orc, and spat on the floor. “Figures.” She turned to her friend. “Six o’ them, two of us. Any second now they jump us, prob’ly laughing ‘bout it. Bloody gankers.” 

“Ah..gankers?” Anomen asked. “I assure you ladies…that is, creatures…I mean…if you are departing peacefully, we may have no need of slaying you at all.” 

“Oooooh, he be soundin’ like a pally!” the troll cackled. “Callin’ us ‘ladies’ an’ all.” She grinned at the cleric. “Betcher leg that if we be lickin’ ya hide, you be bubblin’ up behind a shield an’ runnin’ like a bunny rabbit, heh.” 

“Look,” Zaerini said, beginning to feel quite impatient, “I’m just after Firkraag, and unless you’re gonna try to stand in my way getting to him I don’t especially want to fight you, but we will if we have to. Just move it, and nobody needs get hurt, all right?” The troll and the orc gave each other a brief look, then reached for two very nasty looking glowing polearms, and things were just about to get ugly as she was interrupted by a voice of protest. 

_Noooooo!_ Softpaws wailed, and as Rini turned around she saw her familiar nestled cozily between the large black paws of the lion. The big animal was gently licking her ear, and by now he definitely was purring. The orc gave the lion an exasperated look that Rini felt reasonably assured was mirrored on her own face. 

“Pets, eh?” the orc said, rolling her eyes. “Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em. You’d think with the amount ‘o meat I feed ‘im, he’d not embarass me so.” 

“Yeah. Um…do we still fight?” 

“Nah. He’d be grumpy for days if we did. Seems he likes ya kitty. Anyways, we be just movin’ out. Go on, bash Firkraag all ya likes, we don’t care.” 

“Too right us don’t,” said the troll with a sneer. “That dragon be a total noob moron, he tell us to ‘dismiss our pets while in the dungeon’. As if they be causin’ more troubles than all them random losers he cram in here, eh? He knows nuthin’ bout how us hunters fight, an’ us tells him so.” 

“You told him so?” Jaheira asked. “And he did not try to kill you for it?” 

The orc grinned. “Nope. Us shouted it at him through the backdoor leadin’ up to his special happy spot. Only reason us came back this way be to collect our stuff, seein’ all the staff be busy getting’ killed by you lot.” 

“Backdoor?” Rini asked, feeling her head swimming. “Happy spot? You…you mean we didn’t have to go in this way to reach him at all? Didn’t have to fight all those…things?” 

The troll shook her head. “There be a shortcut, to that meadow with ‘is happy weed. It be hard to find though, if ya not knows the way. Guess us could tell ya though, even if you be pinkskins. That way, if you not gank Firkraag on first try, you not haves to come back all this way.” 

“I…would appreciate that,” Rini said, rubbing the bridge of her nose wearily. _Dungeon designers…I hope there’s a special spot in the Nine Hells reserved for all of them._

“My la…that is, good women…females…have you seen a young human lady hereabouts?” Anomen asked, once directions to the shortcut had been given. “One being held captive?” 

“Oh yah, she be back thatta way,” the troll said, pointing across her shoulder. “Not enuff meat on thatun, really. She be locked up good too.” 

“At last!” the cleric said, visibly perking up. “The stain upon our honor shall be removed, and justice triumph! My lad…that is, gentle wom…humanoids, we cannot thank you enough.” He bent over the mailed fists of the orc and the troll, not quite kissing them but coming close enough, and then hurried off down the corridor. 

“Is it just me?” Edwin asked. “Or is he letting this whole ‘Damsel in Distress’ business affect his miniature mind just a little too much?” 

The troll and the orc just looked at each other, and the troll’s forefinger described a circling motion next to her temple. “Crazy pinkskins,” the troll said with an air of finality. 

The orc nodded, stuck two fingers in her mouth and gave a sharp whistle. The lion reluctantly stood, licking Softpaws’ ear one final time, and padded after her along the corridor. “Bye bye little pinkskins!” the orc called out across her shoulder. “You have fun ganking Firkraag now, an’ not fight over loot too much.“ Both she and the troll gave a hearty guffaw, and then they were gone. 

“We had best hurry,” Jaheira said. “We should not let Anomen go off on his own in this place.” 

“Agreed,” Rini said, nodding. “Let’s go then.”

Following a trail of dead gnolls led them to Anomen, and they caught up with him just as he paused before a large wooden door, preparing to smash it in. “This is it,” he whispered. “Behind this dread portal some dire evil lurks, I can sense it.”

“They’ve got a griffin in there?” Jan asked. “Or is it poor dear Namey whom you refer to in such a manner? For shame, Ano, for shame!” 

But Anomen wasn’t listening, and the door was already creaking and groaning as the Flail of Ages struck it again and again. Finally, it came off its hinges, and hung pitifully open. 

“WHAT?! Who dares disturb my Personal Time?” a deep voice bellowed from within. Rini looked over Anomen’s shoulder – and froze in place, staring with pure shock at the sight that met her. 

At the back of the room was a row of jailcells. Namey was standing inside one of them, looking at Anomen with adoring eyes. In the middle of the room was a table, and at the table a large ogre was sitting, with his feet in a basin of hot water smelling of roses. A small goblin was filing his nails, while another was combing his shaggy hair, and a third was polishing his tusks. He had a facial mask smeared all over his face, but when he wiped off the slices of cucumber that had been covering his eyes, she recognized him all too well. 

”Tazok?!”

“Ahh, you did come!” Tazok said, his tusks showing in a broad grin. “He said you would, but I thought you too much a coward. My swaddling kin will have your flesh after all!”

“Tazok?!” Zaerini repeated, staring at the ogre. “But you’re dead. At least I’m pretty sure you’re dead. Or were dead. And why were you putting cucumber on your eyes?” 

“Hrmpf!” the ogre said. “Who says an ogre can’t care about his looks? These remove the bags from under my eyes, and the calf fetus cream makes my skin smooth and silky.” 

“Th…that’s right!” Namey piped up from inside her cage. “I did recommend it to him, it is my favorite facial and everything…”

“As for my death,” Tazok stated, “it came from working for a loser like Sarevok. I have a new master now, one much smarter and stronger.” 

“My brother was not a loser!” Rini snapped, angrily putting her hands on her hips and glaring at the ogre. “He was just a bit unstable, that’s all.”

“Raving mad,” Tazok snorted, spittle spraying from his mouth. “Now, Firkraag brought me back just for your sake. Seems he’s got it in for you and can’t say I disagree. Fight! And know that behind Tazok is a power greater than you have ever seen!”

“What, Namey?”

“No! No more words! Fight!” 

With that, the ogre reached for a very large sword that stood leaned against the table, and charged. Unfortunately for him, he charged straight onto Lilarcor, and then slid gently off the sword and onto the floor.

“Woohoo!” Lilarcor yelled. “Who’s the Ogremasher? I’m the Ogremasher! Yeah baby, yeah! Go on babes, touch me, you know you want to.” 

Jaheira looked at the green blood dripping off the blade, and shook her head briefly. “Absolutely not,” she said. “Child, how about you?”

“Eeeewww. No way. And besides, shouldn’t that be ‘Ogreslasher’, unless you’ve turned into a talking mace or warhammer?” 

“That is settled then. Now, as for Nam…”

“My heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeroooooo!” Namey squealed, jumping up and down and pressing her beaming face against the bars of her cell. “You came for me, oh, I knew you would, and now you will rescue me and carry me safely home to my father, softly nestled in the crook of your arm, will you not? Oooh, your arms are so strong, and so manly…”

Anomen took a swift step backwards. “Er…key?” he managed. 

“Oh, that dreadful old wicked wizard has it downstairs, I think. He will be no match for a noble hero such as yourself. My poor frayed nerves, this place is so cold and so shut in…how I can even bare to breathe in here I really don’t know. And all this ugly blood…such a horror for my sensitive artistic soul.” Namey sniffled, and two big and sparkling tears trickled softly down along her rosy cheeks. 

“This lock has some sort of enchantment on it,” Jan declared after examining the cage. “Can’t be picked, sadly. Maybe you want to try to bash the door in to rescue your damsel, eh Ano? Then you could bring her home while we fight the dragon.”

“No!” Anomen hastily said. “That is…she…could be hurt. We must find this wizard, at once.” 

“And Firkraag!” Edwin said, an eager gleam in his eyes. “The glorious, glorious dragon..:”

“Who will turn you into a glorious, glorious corpse if you stray too close to him,” Jaheira said. “Let us all prepare first, in case a battle with the dragon cannot be avoided.” 

Preparing of course entailed casting a large number of protective spells, both clerical and arcane. As Zaerini finished her last one, a Stoneskin, she looked at her friends and then had to blink some tears away – they were glowing so brightly with magical energies that it made her eyes water to look at them. “I guess we’re as ready as we’ll ever be,” she said. “Let’s hope Firkraag is still asleep.” 

The door at the end of the small jail where Namey was being held led to a broad and dark tunnel, sloping gently downwards. It felt rather familiar, and Rini soon figured out why, the Shadow Dragon had had one just like it. _I guess that makes sense…they’re both dragons, they might like to make their lairs in the same kind of way._ Eventually, the tunnel opened up into a large cave. Not a dank, drafty, nasty cave, no this was a dragon cave, and that meant comfort. The floor was smooth and polished, and warm to the touch, as were the walls. Torches burnt along the walls, their light twinkling off…off…

_Oh, my gods. I never saw that much gold in my life._

Firkraag’s hoard was vast, a pile of gold coins that almost reached the roof where it was stacked against the wall towards the other end of the cave. Zaerini could see chests as well, and glittering gems, pieces of armor and weaponry, a large red dragon head and…

_Uh Oh._

Feeling as if her spine had suddenly turned into an icicle, the half-elf watched as Firkraag’s head rose lazily out of his hoard, scattering gold and gems all over the floor. As the rest of the dragon emerged, the hoard didn’t look quite as vast any longer, having been piled up around his body as a kind of security blanket. Firkraag was all the more impressive though. The dragon’s shiny red head turned towards the adventurers, his snake-like neck bending slightly downwards, and he spread his great, leathery wings, shaking off a few stray coins. She thought she could detect amusement in his hot orange eyes, and then he sat on his haunches, watching her with great interest. 

“Welcome,” the dragon said in a booming, and faintly patronizing voice. “You have come as I wanted. It has been an interesting game, but to tell the truth, I tire of it.”

“Gee, what a shame,” Rini said, her jaws tightly clenched. “And here we were having such a lot of fun tromping through hordes of orcs, vampire mists, hobgoblins, werewolves, wolfweres, golems, genies, vampires, wraiths, ogres and let’s not forget that creature at the bottom of the well.”

“You killed Pooky?” Firkraag said, and a cloud of smoke rose from his nostrils. “You bastards!” Then he cleared his throat. “Enjoyed my lair, did you? I had a hard time deciding what henchmen to order, so I got Extra Everything.”

“Enough of this banter!” Jaheira said. “Why have you targeted Zaerini in this manner?” 

“Oh, that,” Firkraag said, chuckling quietly. “For my amusement, for my curiosity, and for my memory of transgressions long since past. All of this spurred me on, but I grow bored with you.”

“Ah, but we are far from bored with you,” Edwin said, raptly looking up at the dragon. “Such a magnificent being as yourself deserves nothing less that adoration.” 

“Want to go to bed with old Firky here tonight rather than me?” Rini hissed to her lover. “Just say.” 

“It…was a matter of your fathers,” Firkraag went on, inching slightly away from Edwin. “Your lineage crosses the mortal and spiritual, and both concern me somewhat. Gorion raised you. I know this from my spies and followers. They are subtle when I wish it.”

“Oh yes,” Jan said. “Very subtle, like that ogre upstairs…Tazok was it? Any more subtle and he’d have been dancing naked on the table, singing ‘Subtle Days Are Here Again’.” 

“AS I WAS SAYING,” Firkraag boomed, and little gusts of flame shot out of his mouth. “Gorion was as much your father as anyone. He was also an adventurer in his day and crossed my path long ago. Him and his Harper friends. I bear the scars of that meeting.”

“Ah,” Jaheira said in a low voice. “Gorion once said that he and some Harpers dealt a humiliating blow to a dragon in the Stormhorn Mountains. I was not aware this was the same one.”

“It was a low and unfair attack,” Firkraag sniffed. “They jumped me from out of the blue as I was picking flowers, knowing I would be distracted. I can’t believe they had the nerve to boast about it afterwards, if I’d been anything like my normal self, I would have totally owned the lives and souls of those puny humans. As it was, I swore eternal revenge. Gorion is beyond me now, being dead as he is, so I settled for the next best thing. I can torment his spirit by destroying you. Wherever he is, he is seething.” The dragon chuckled again. 

“All of this destruction, simply to avenge yourself upon a dead man?” Anomen asked in an incredulous voice. “You must be mad!” 

Firkraag bared his long teeth in what almost resembled a smile. “That was only one reason,” he said, his eyes boring into Rini’s. That burning gaze made her feel very small, weak, and young, and she didn’t doubt that it was exactly what the dragon intended. “I had toyed with forgetting the transgression, though it has not been that long in dragon terms. It was your other father that made me curious however.”

“Bhaal. So, what else is new?” 

“You are a child of Bhaal. What an interesting subject to study, or so I thought. Really, you are not so different, despite your little personal struggles. What will be interesting is your conflict with Jon Irenicus. That is something I would very much like to see. So, I leave you your life. Do with it what you will.”

“Irenicus,” the half-elf said, and her voice felt as small and cold as she did. “What do you know of him?” 

“I will have no dealings with that creature. I am merely interested in YOUR confrontation with him. Yes, that will be something to see.” Firkraag yawned, a long red tongue momentarily sliding out of his jaws before it retracted again. “For now, you bore me. I will taunt you no more. This has been such sport that I bear you no ill will. You may go.”

“That’s it?!” Zaerini said. “You try to get me killed by a horde of angry paladins, and then you get bored with me and expect me to just forget about it? I don’t think so! Oh no.” 

“Not to mention,” Anomen said, “That we will not leave without Garren Windspear’s child.” Rini noticed that he looked mildly suffering as he said that. 

“Oh, if you insist,” Firkraag said, yawning again. “The brat was only taken as a means of getting you involved; I have no further use for her. But I would not wish for you to go without a challenge.” He turned his head, and a shimmering scrying portal became visible, hanging in midair. Inside, one could make out a human shape, probably a man. “Conster!” Firkraag said, practically purring. “Go to the jail at once and kill the child of Garren Windspear. Do not let anybody detain you.” 

“At once, Master!” the mage said, and the scrying portal winked out of existence. 

“Well?” Firkraag said, and by now he was purring. “Don’t you have somewhere you ought to be right about now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I indulged in a little self-insert by proxy here - if you happen to play WoW you may recognize some references, although this was written far enough back that hunters still had melee weapons. The orc is my main and has been ever since back then.


	142. Dragon-nip and Dragon-nap

**Cards Reshuffled 142 – Dragon-nip and Dragon-nap**

_Whenever an encounter with a nasty enemy seems impossibly hard, try to think about it from another angle. Usually the ‘why fight at all’ one works well for me. It’s so much more convenient to have them fight themselves._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Not for the first, and not for the last time, Zaerini pondered the extreme unfairness of neither her nor Edwin knowing any nifty teleporting spells. It certainly seemed as if each and every other hostile mage they ran into did. As it was, the adventurers had to run, rushing up the broad stairs leading from Firkraag’s lair with their hearts in their mouths. 

“We…could count this as a solid effort and go have a nice lie-down,” Edwin wheezed at Anomen. 

Anomen looked vaguely tempted at that, but then he simply shook his head and ran on. 

“You can have one with me, afterwards,” Rini gasped. “For now, run.” 

Being unburdened by the heavier armor or constraining robes of her friends, the bard was the one to reach the jail first. A stout man in a canary yellow robe, presumably Conster, was just opening Namey’s cell, and the young woman was cowering inside it, whimpering pitifully. 

“CONSTER!” she shouted, mimicking Firkraag’s booming voice. “STAND ASIDE!” 

The mage, who hadn’t seen her yet, squeaked and leapt a foot straight into the air, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of his draconic employer popping up behind his back. Before he could gather his wits, an arrow hit him straight in the eye, and as he sank to his knees, screaming and clutching his bleeding face, Lilarcor sent his head spinning through the air just as the Flail of Ages struck it. The effect was messy, and very efficient. 

“I…I am free again!” Namey said, setting course for Anomen, her eyes shining with devotion. “Sir Knight, your heroism knows no bounds!” 

“Ah…perhaps just a few bounds,” Anomen managed, and took a step away from the enthusiastic Namey. “Now, about returning you to your father…”

“Oh, but I must remain with you!” Namey cooed. “My poor, sensitive nerves are frayed to the point of breaking, frayed I tell you! I must tell you everything about my harrowing experience, in great detail, and I know that the presence of such a brave hero at my side, with such strong shoulders to weep upon, will offer me great comfort.”

There was something definitely haunted about Anomen’s expression by now. “I…” he began. 

“Out of the question,” Jaheira snapped. “We are taking you back to your father at once, before something else happens, and there you will stay, hopefully silently.” 

Namey’s eyes widened with shock, and then filled with tears. “You…you…you dreadful old h-harridan!” she said. “Bossing everybody around like that, have you no care for my special and refined soul?”

Jaheira’s face tensed. “Be silent, I say, and mind your manners, you sniveling fool. And cease your clinging, can you not tell he detests it?” 

“Oh! You say such awful things, you’re just jealous because I’m ever so much prettier and sweeter than you are, so there! I…I bet any man daring to even touch you would just shrivel up and die from your nastiness! Is that not so, Sir Knight?”

“No,” Anomen said in a quiet voice. He grasped Jaheira by the hand, looking the startled druidess in the eyes. “That is not so. For here I stand, alive and well, and…and looking upon a woman of not merely beauty, but of strength and spirit as well.” He turned to Namey. “And any further insults directed at her will result in chastisement. It would not kill you, but you would be very uncomfortable afterwards.” 

There were a few seconds of deep silence, and then a thud. Namey had fainted. 

“You know,” Jaheira said in a level voice, “I am perfectly capable of defending myself.”

“I know,” Anomen said, smiling. “And I do like it that way.” 

“Good. Just so that is clear. And thank you.” 

The cleric’s smile widened a little, and he bowed his head over Jaheira’s hand, not quite kissing it before letting go. “As they say, the pleasure was all mine.” 

“This is of course all very touching, in a ‘may my synapses explode to spare me the agony of watching’ kind of way,” Edwin said, “but perhaps we might get back to the business at hand, yes?”

“The rudeness aside, you do have a point,” Jaheira said. She gave the prone Namey a withering look. “Let us get this fool out of harm’s way, and back to her father.” 

“Right,” Rini said. “And then there’s Firkraag to deal with.”

“You mean to fight him then?” Anomen asked, eyes gleaming with excitement. “My lady, I will be proud to stand at your side against such a villainous beast, you may be assured of it.” 

“Um…maybe. I do want to get back at him, at least. I thought we might take a look at that meadow, for starters…” 

-*-

As the adventurers set out towards the surface again, a huddled shape stirred within an alcove, pressing a hand against the wound in his belly. Tazok knew he had been lucky to survive; only a spare healing potion had saved him after he was left for dead. Right now, he was still rather seriously wounded, but he thought he would live. He had just gathered his strength enough to make an effort to stand, when he heard The Voice. 

It was a cool, male voice, speaking from the empty air around him, but he knew he wasn’t imagining things. Then, there was a shimmering in the air, and he could just glimpse a pair of icy blue eyes behind a leather mask. 

“Ogre,” the voice said. “I have observed you and have taken an interest in you. You seem to have entangled with the half-elf Zaerini of Candlekeep more than once, and so you would be an ideal foil once I take her into my custody and proceed with my experiments.”

Tazok thought about this. An ogre he might be, but that didn’t mean he was a stupid ogre.

“You want to hire me?” he asked. 

“Yes,” the masked man said. 

“To fight that half-elf?”

“Yes.”

“For the third time?” 

“Yes.”

“After I died once, and nearly died once?”

“Yes.”

Tazok thought about this for all of three seconds. Then, he snorted, and extended the middle finger of his right hand in the general direction of the scrying image. “Bugger off,” he said as he staggered to his feet. “I’ve had enough of being a henchman – from now on, I’ll freelance.” 

There were a few moments of silence after the ogre disappeared, as the masked mage frowned with disapproval at the small pool of blood left in the empty alcove. “How very obstinate,” he said. “I must look elsewhere for allies, it seems.”

Then, the image went out, and there was silence once again. 

-*-

A few hours later, two female half-elves were climbing the rocky hills near Firkraag’s lair, being very careful not to lose their footing. Namey had been safely delivered to her doting and very grateful father, who had also informed them that the business with the Order had been entirely cleared up. 

_And a good thing too_ , Rini thought. _I’ve got enough enemies anyway, without a bunch of paladins coming after me. Firkraag for one._

Going after the dragon meant satisfying her pride of course, and her desire to get back at him, but that wasn’t the only reason. Firkraag had already got her into serious trouble once, and though he might claim to now be bored with her, she didn’t trust him not to take an interest again. Dragons lived a very long time after all, and next time, she might not get off so easily. And so, she had decided to investigate that special meadow of Firkraag’s that the orc and troll had tipped her off about. At the very least it would provide a secret entrance to the dragon’s lair, and who knew, there might be something else of interest there. She and Jaheira had gone alone, since they were the two party members most skilled at climbing, and also easily able to hide in shapeshifted form. 

“So,” the bard said, jumping from one rock to another. “Feels kind of nice to have Namey out of our hair, doesn’t it?” 

“Mmm,” Jaheira said. 

“I mean, poor Ano, she was practically glued onto him, but he’s just too nice to leave her to her fate, isn’t he?”

“Mmm.”

“Mind you, I think he’d have been happy to smack Namey around for your sake.”

“Mmm…what? Do not be ridiculous, I would never have allowed such a thing.”

“Maybe not, and I don’t think he’d actually hit some girl, but he still was tempted. I think he really cares about you.”

Jaheira frowned, shaking her head briefly as if debating something with herself. Her hand drifted slowly towards her throat, fiddling with something inside the collar of her tunic. 

“I really don’t know why you keep that locket out of sight, it’s very pretty. You shouldn’t hide a thing like that, you know.”

“I hide nothing!” Jaheira snapped, and spots of angry color flared in her cheeks. “Do not try my patience, child.”

“Fine, fine,” Zaerini said, rolling her eyes. “Whatever. I’ll worm it out of you eventually, you’ll see.” 

“There is nothing to ‘worm out’. Nothing!”

“If you say so. Look, I think we’re there!” The rocks were indeed opening up onto a pretty meadow, high up in the hills. It was surrounded on three sides by impenetrable rocks, and on the fourth you still had to squeeze through a narrow passage in order to get past. Once you got through that, you were met by the sight of tall grass, gently swaying in the wind, and a large assortment of pretty flowers. “Well…we’re here,” Zaerini said, as she started searching the rocks for the passage to Firkraag’s lair. “I have to say, I expected something more. I don’t know, maybe something mysterious and magical, or a special dragonslaying weapon or something…”

“Why would a dragon keep dragonslaying weapons lying about outside his lair?” Jaheira said. “Or inside, for that matter.” She was bending over a cluster of plants with thick, meaty leaves and puffy blue flowers, examining them idly. 

“I don’t know. I just wish he did, that’s all. Or something, anything to give us an edge over him.”

“By Silvanus!” Jaheira suddenly exclaimed in a triumphant voice. “I have it!” 

“Eh? Have what?”

“The proper weapon to wield against Firkraag. Come closer, and I will explain everything…” 

The red dragon Firkraag, or Firky to his friends, if he’d had any, gave a half-sleep snort and turned around on his pile of gold. Firkraag not merely loved his hoard of gold, he practically worshipped it. _WHY, I CAN JUMP ABOUT IN IT LIKE A DOLPHIN, OR BURY UNDER IT LIKE A MOLE, OR THROW IT UP INTO THE AIR SO IT COMES RAINING DOWN ONTO MY HEAD…WHAT MORE COULD A DRAGON ASK FOR?_ He thought about this for a moment. _EASY QUESTION. MORE GOLD, OF COURSE. MAYBE A LOVELY FEMALE TO CARRY ON MY SUPERIOR GENETIC HERITAGE. OH, AND SWEET VENGEANCE._

The dragon smiled to himself, displaying an impressive array of sharp teeth, and turned over onto his back, legs waving lazily in the air as he threw a few gold coins into the air, so they came raining down onto his stomach. _I WOULD WAGER THIS DOES WONDERS FOR MY SCALES TOO. FAR, FAR BETTER THAN THAT DISGUSTING FACIAL THAT GARREN WINDSPEAR’S CHILD RECOMMENDED, THAT ONE JUST MADE ME SMELL OF UNBORN COW._ The whole business with Windspear had gone quite well, he decided. The land he had coveted was his, if not entirely legally, and he’d had his vengeance. _GORION’S WHELP WAS A BIT OF A DISAPPOINTMENT THOUGH. I REALLY WOULDN’T HAVE EXPECTED HER TO JUST…WALK OFF LIKE THAT, NOT CHALLENGING ME. IF THAT IS THE EXTENT OF HER SPINE IRENICUS WILL CRUSH HER LIKE A BUG. GRANTED, THE ALTERNATIVE WOULD BE ME CRUSHING HER LIKE A BUG, BUT I WOULD STILL HAVE ENJOYED HER TRYING. ALSO, I WOULD HAVE EXPECTED HER TO BE TALLER, MORE SUITED TO THE NAME ‘TERROR OF THE SWORD COAST’. QUITE PATHETIC IF YOU ASK ME._

Firkraag gave a brief snort of contempt at that, and closed his eyes again, preparing to go back to his nap. But then an intoxicating, divine smell reached his nostrils, and his head immediately perked up. The dragon sniffed the air deeply, inhaling more and more of the glorious and familiar smell. Of course! He had almost forgotten about his favorite meadow, but there it was, just up the tunnel, sending the dazzling smell directly into his brain. What better a way to relax after his recent triumph? 

The dragon got to his feet, shook some coins off his scales, and scampered off up the tunnel leading to his back entrance, his tongue lolling out of his mouth like that of an eager puppy. Warm sunshine hit his scales, and Firkraag gave a small roar of delight as he buried his head in the flowers, inhaling more and more of the most wonderful smell in the world. Already the clouds were taking on purple edges and there was a small crowd of flying hippos circling his head, singing something about ‘Poof the Magic Dragon’. Firkraag didn’t let them distract him though. He was a dragon on top of the world, and he now started rolling over and over in the grass, snorting loudly and waggling his ears. So preoccupied was he with his diversion that he never noticed the small cat and the grey wolf that quietly slipped by him and down the secret tunnel leading to his lair. 

It was perhaps half an hour or so later. Firkraag, in his plant-induced bliss, had pretty much lost track of time, and was now snuffling around in tiny circles, his bottom raised high in the air and tail sticking straight up, while his nose rubbed the ground. His front paws were held in place, while his left hind leg carried him forward and accounted for the circular motion. In his mind, he was hunting a very elusive red dragon female with bunny ears and tail, who kept staying just ahead of him. 

“Hey, lizard!” a mocking voice called out from on top of one of the big boulders surrounding the meadow. “Got some news for you!” 

Firkraag struggled, and eventually managed to raise his head off the ground enough to see the speaker. It was her…the half-elf, whatever her name was again. Gorion’s annoying child. 

“GO ‘WAY…” The dragon muttered. “AM HUNTING WABBITS…” 

“Oh yeah? Well, aren’t you forgetting something? Namely, your little treasure? You’ll want to have a look at that, I think. Might be somebody’s hauling it off.”

That just barely managed to penetrate the pink mists swirling through Firkraag’s head. His treasure was in danger! Briefly, he contemplated going after the pesky little thief at once, but then changed his mind. She clearly wasn’t carrying his hoard, and there was no way she could have got it out the tunnel behind him. So, it must still be down there, and if it was being stolen it must be through the front entrance. Firkraag opened his mouth, and hot orange fire puffed out of his mouth. “Will…deal with you later,” he said, and then he slithered down the tunnel, headfirst. 

_Calamity! Woe! Disaster!_

Those were the words that flittered through Firkraag’s head as he reached his lair and saw the very empty and desolate spot where his beautiful hoard had once been. “THIEVES!” the dragon roared, his flames licking the very ceiling of the cave. “THIEVES! DIRTY THIEVES!” He hurried out the main corridor, scorching the path ahead of him, his fury just as hot as his fires, but there was no sign of the thieves. Eventually he reached the main entrance, and still there was nothing. Now completely frantic, Firkraag leapt into the air, in order to better search for the perpetrators. Or rather, Firkraag tried to leap into the air. It didn’t go all that well, since all the lovely flowers he had previously sniffed made it very difficult to tell what was left or right, not to mention what was up or down. The big red dragon wobbled erratically across the sky, now and then making an unsteady roll or loop. Eventually, he had the bright idea of returning to the scene of the crime as it were and confront the annoying little pest of a redhead directly. 

_Not rare…not medium…but well done. Oh, very well done indeed._ Firkraag licked his chops just thinking about that, and nearly lost his balance altogether. Now he was turning around, heading for his meadow again, and there she was. The half-elf was standing there, bold as brass, on top of a large boulder. Now she was even grinning broadly and waving at him. The dragon had only rarely encountered such impertinence in a humanoid, and he wasn’t about to put up with it. 

“WELL DONE!” Firkraag roared, and he exhaled with all his might, spurting a large plume of fire that streaked through the air to hit the half-elf…and missed. A little shocked by this, but mostly angry and confused, the dragon wobbled around, making a dangerous turn, and headed for his victim again. If fire didn’t work, he had other means of dealing with her. He would simply swoop down on her, carry her into the air, and that would be the end of that. The large dragon dove down towards his victim, opened his jaws, snapped for her, and hit nothing but empty air. Too late, far too late, he tried to reestablish his balance, but he couldn’t come out of the dive soon enough, his head was swirling with pretty colors and the ground was coming up towards him so very fast…was that a daisy? Why, yes it was, and a very pretty daisy too, with little eyes and a smile in the middle…

CRASH!

Firkraag struck the ground with a resounding thud and a nasty crack as his head connected with a boulder. His legs twitched helplessly, and his head lolled to one side. Little bursts of flame erupted from his mouth and then died, even as the dragon failed to draw breath. 

_THIS IS SO UNFAIR_ , he thought. _THE END IS SUPPOSED TO COME IN A GLORIOUS BATTLE, POSSIBLY INVOLVING KNIGHTS. NOT…NOT LIKE THI…_

Then, nothing. 

“And that, kids, is why you shouldn’t drink and fly,” Zaerini said an hour later, indicating the dead dragon with a proud little bow. “Neat, huh?” 

“Well, technically it wasn’t drink as such,” Jaheira filled in. “It is a rather rare herb, common in its function to catnip. It affects dragons in much the same way that catnips does cats.”

“Poor old Firky got himself totally smashed,” Zaerini said, grinning. “Jaheira had the brilliant idea of sending the smell down his lair with one of her spells to get him in the mood, but he took care of the rest himself. Then, once he was really out of it, we sneaked into the lair.” 

Jaheira nodded. “And while we of course could not possibly haul the entire hoard out by ourselves, it was easy enough to move it a short distance into a sideroom. Most of it is in sacks and chests, and in bear form I am quite strong.”

“So, Firkraag got really mad when he couldn’t find his treasure,” Rini went on. “By that time, he couldn’t really see straight of course, much less fly. I just set up a Mislead spell, you know, a false image of me, to goad him on. If he hadn’t snapped his own neck by that crash-landing of his, we still could have taken him out. Poor sod, I almost feel sorry for him.” 

Edwin gaped at the dead dragon; his mouth half open. “But…” he said. “You…the two of you…dragon? Dead dragon? Alone?”

“We didn’t want to bother you, Eddie?” the redhead said with an impish smile. “You and Ano did say you needed a rest, after all.”

“But…” Anomen said, his eyes just as wide as Edwin’s. “You…ladies…dragon? Dead?”

“We just said so, did we not?” Jaheira said. “Honestly, Anomen, do learn to pay attention better.” 

The priest and the Red Wizard gave each other a helpless look, clearly at a loss for words, and then went back to staring at the dead Firkraag as if they still couldn’t quite believe their eyes. 

“Aw, Minsc and Boo are sad to have missed such a glorious event!” Minsc said, his lower lip trembling. “Won’t little Rini promise to let us in on the next dragon fight coming up, please?”

“Oh, sorry Minsc. Sure, you can help with the next dragon, I promise.” 

“You know,” Jan said, absently pulling scales loose from Firkraag’s belly, “this does remind me of a story.”

There was a faint groan of pain coming from Edwin and Anomen, but no actual words. Presumably they were both still too stunned for that. 

“You see,” Jan said, “a distant relative of mine, Daan Jansen, was dragged into a mysterious mystery involving complicated puzzles and cryptograms, one of them being a crossword puzzle made entirely from the entrails of a murdered griffin found in the middle of the Touvre.”

“Touvre?” Jaheira echoed. 

“The gnomish museum with turnips from all ages, as presented by the old masters. Anyway, Daan Jansen pursued these dastardly clues, aided in his search by a lovely cryptography and turnip expert from Kozakura. She was named Sudoku and had a mysterious mental power that would enslave even the most stubborn of people, making them do her bidding and forget all of their other engagements. Throughout it all they were hunted by various horrible monsters, including an albino assassin griffin belonging to the Cult of Rubik.”

“And what does all this have to do with dragons?” Zaerini asked. 

“I’m getting to that, Your Worship, I’m getting to it! You see, at the end of it all it turned out that the Jansens have been carrying a magical and terrible secret throughout the ages, handing it down from gnome to gnome. Daan Jansen managed to prove that we are all descended from an illicit affair between the God of Turnips and a Red Dragon, meaning of course that all Jansens have divine blood flowing through their veins.”

“Not for much longer unless he shuts up,” Edwin muttered, pressing his fingers to his temples.

“Daan Jansen wrote a bestselling novel about it, called ‘Holy Blood, Holy Turnip,” Jan proudly stated. “Personally, I think it’d make a fine play too, don’t you agree?”

Zaerini grinned. “Possibly…but divine blood’s getting so common these days. Seems like everybody’s got it, so I can’t see many people being interested. Though with the right dramatic cues, maybe…”

“Anomen Delryn! Is that you, sir?”

The strange voice made all of the adventurers turn around, to see a young man, with fair hair and a nervous, rather thin face. He was peering tentatively out from behind a boulder, not quite daring to look at Firkraag, and now and then his voice broke. 

“I am Anomen Delryn,” Anomen said, giving the young man a curious look. “Who are you sir, and how did you find me here?”

“Me? I…I am just a messenger, sir. I find anybody, anywhere, it’s a special talent of mine, so I get to carry messages…please don’t kill me!” 

“Kill you? Whatever for, man?”

“Sometimes the messages aren’t good ones, and then people get angry. It’s hardly my fault if I find people even when they’re hiding from their mail, is it?”

“Well,” Anomen said, sounding a trifle impatient. “What is your message then?”

“Oh, that. Yes. You, Anomen Delryn, are hereby summoned the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart. I was told to tell you to present yourself there within seven days, because your ‘Test’ is coming up. Does that mean anything to you?”

And from the way Anomen’s cheeks paled, it was very clear that it did.


	143. Curse and Worse

**Cards Reshuffled 143 – Curse and Worse**

_Comfortingly enough, no matter how bad things are, they can always get worse. Usually they do._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

The gentle patter of jellyfish falling from the sky was a clear hint that something was amiss in the Five Flagons Theatre. Dekaras paused just inside the door, raising his eyes towards the ceiling. No, the ceiling was still there, and there was no clue as to where the wet mollusks were emerging from. The assassin tapped a passing stagehand on the shoulder, hoping for an explanation that wouldn’t mean he had gone insane. However, the man simply gave a loud squeal, and as he turned around it became apparent why. His nose and mouth had been replaced by a pig’s snout, and the look of desperation in his eyes hinted that he wasn’t enjoying it one bit. 

“My apologies,” Dekaras said, shaking his head briefly. “I see that you are indisposed.”

“Squeal?”

“I don’t suppose you can tell me what exactly is going on here, can you?”

“Snort!”

“No, I didn’t think so. What about Viconia De’Vir though? Where might I find her?”

The pig-man grunted and pointed towards Viconia’s office before running off again. Dekaras watched him depart, and then set out to find the drow cleric. Before he could get that far though, he ran into Higgold. 

“Woe!” the man cried out, wringing his hands desperately. “Alas, alack, woe and alarums and calamities!” He clutched the front of the assassin’s tunic, and then wept desperately onto his chest. 

“Master Higgold,” Dekaras said, inclining his head. “I take it that something is seriously amiss here?”

“Ye-he-he-hesssss!”¨

“I see. Well, I would be pleased to do what I can to help.”

“Wou-hould you? * sob *

“Indeed. And all I require in return is one small favor.”

“Whu-hu-hu-at? * sniffle *”

“Stop slobbering on me, or I will not claim full responsibility for my actions.” 

“Oh. Sorry.” Higgold finally let go, though tears were still streaming down his face. “There…there is a curse…a te-terrible curse!” 

“And it makes you mushier than a dish of Sword Coast Soggy Peas?”

“Only me… * sob * Talk to L-Lady Viconia…although she s-said not to be distu-hu-hurbed, she uh-huh-hu-huuuu!” 

Making a small grimace of disgust as he noticed the wet stains on his clothes, Dekaras pulled open the door to Viconia’s office. There were flowers growing out of the keyhole, and lemon jelly running down the walls. Still, whatever awaited him inside surely couldn’t be worse than being used as a hankie by a distraught theatre director. 

Of course, he was wrong. 

Viconia was sitting at an ornate walnut desk, decorated with several miniatures of elves cavorting in the nude. Dekaras wasn’t quite close enough to make out the details, but he felt reasonably assured that they weren’t gymnasts. Viconia herself had her head bent low over a small metal box, her white hair falling forward to mostly conceal her face. As the assassin entered, she raised her head, and her dark red eyes widened with shock. 

“No!” she called out. “Fool male, do not enter, or it will be too…”

There was a low hum in the air, and then Dekaras felt it. A strong, compelling sucking sensation, centered somewhere just below his ribcage, pulling him along. He grabbed hold of the doorpost, trying to remain in place, but no, the pull was too strong, strong enough that it was actually pulling him into the air. Across his shoulder he could see Viconia attempting a similar tactic of holding onto her chair. The only result was that the chair was carried into the air along with the drow. Then, Viconia was gliding swiftly across the floor, despite all her best attempts to dig her heels in, and she slammed directly into the startled assassin, chest to chest and hip to hip. 

“Viconia?!” Dekaras said, trying to get his breath back. He attempted to take a step back from the drow, in order to get out of the awkward and more than a little compromising position. It didn’t work. Viconia might as well have been glued onto him. Though she wasn’t holding onto him at all, there simply was no pulling apart from her. It briefly reminded him of a magnet and iron filings. Except of course that neither a magnet or iron filings would be quite as curvaceous as Viconia, or as irate. 

“Iblith!” Viconia screamed. “Oloth plynn dos!” 

“Many would say that darkness already has taken me,” Dekaras said, attempting once again to get loose. All he managed to achieve was taking a step backwards, Viconia followed right along. “Although calling me ‘offal’ is a bit extreme, isn’t it, given you’re the one sticking to me.”

“That is the curse, annoying male. And where did you pick up drow insults, anyway?”

“Ah…that doesn’t matter. It was long ago. Tell me about this curse, would you?”

Viconia sighed. “Very well, I suppose it can’t hurt. Sit down. There is a chair behind you.”

The assassin carefully backed up until he felt the chair, then equally carefully sat down. What he wasn’t prepared for was Viconia slithering neatly onto his lap, close enough that he could scarcely breathe. _Oh gods._

Viconia gave a brief smirk. “I hope you weren’t expecting me to stand,” she said. “Thanks to you, the curse ensures we’re stuck with each other for now. Most males would be more enthusiastic about the situation.” 

_Most males don’t have a lover who would toast them to a cinder if she found out about this episode._

“The curse, please,” Dekaras stiffly said, trying to breathe in such a manner that he wouldn’t be aware of Viconia doing the same. It didn’t really work. 

“Two days ago, an elderly gnome came by,” Viconia explained. “She wanted to sell ‘protection’ against curses. Naturally I refused, despite all these superstitious human fools whining about it.”

“And so she cursed you.”

“Not at once. That box arrived yesterday, addressed to Rose.” Viconia’s eyes darkened with anger. “She never knew what hit her. And there was more than one curse, they have spread all over the theatre, the whole place is infested with them as you must have noticed. The tiefling thinks he is a literal sparrow, I had to chain him up to keep him from trying to leap out the windows to fly. Why are your clothes all wet?”

Dekaras winced. “Blame that on Higgold. I gather his weeping was one of the curses?”

“Possibly, though it could also come from him being a wet blanket.” 

“Why weren’t you affected until now though?”

“I was, one of the curses struck me at the very beginning. But in my particular case, the curse wouldn’t take hold until there was a male in close enough proximity. I shut myself in here in order to avoid that and to try to dispel the curse, difficult as that seems. Until somebody saw fit to interrupt me.” 

The assassin sighed briefly. _Well, my life had been fairly uneventful the past few days. I suppose it was time for another annoying predicament, if not an outright disaster._ “May I see the box, please?”

They awkwardly maneuvered themselves over to the desk, until Dekaras was able to reach around Viconia and pick up the box. It was made from silver, about a hand across, and decorated with grapevines. There was also a faint magical aura around it, but that seemed to be only a residue of the curses that had previously been stored inside. Apart from that, he couldn’t really tell anything remarkable about it. 

“Nothing much there,” Viconia said. “I had thought about seeking out the silversmiths in the Promenade to see if they can tell anything about it. It seems new, so it may have been commissioned recently.”

”Good idea, and there is also the gnome herself.” The assassin smiled a cold smile. “If we find her, I dare say we can motivate her to remove the curse.” 

”Shvanana, her name was.” Viconia’s eyes narrowed. “Or so she said, at least. I do not know where she came from, though. Other gnomes might.”

Drow and assassin looked at each other briefly, and then both of them shuddered. 

“Not Jan Jansen. Please.”

“No. Not him. Absolutely not. He’s not in town anyway.”

“Good. Imagine the stories he would tell if he saw us.”

“Imagine the stories he would tell _about_ us if he saw us. No, anything but him.” 

“That’s settled then. Let’s go to the Promenade first, and then we can see about finding gnomes.”

After a brief argument about who would get to walk backwards, they eventually sidled sideways out the door. “Whatever happened to Miss Bouquet anyway?” Dekaras asked. 

Viconia raised her arm, and grimly pointed at the far corner of the room. “There,” she said. 

The assassin looked in the indicated direction and saw no sign of the half-elf. All he could see was a potted plant…a small rosebush. “Is that…”

“Yes.” Viconia’s face twisted with anger. “Whoever did that will be made to pay, and slowly.” 

Dekaras simply nodded, and then concentrated on trying to walk in time with the angry drow. It was more complicated than he had thought, they had to move their legs at the same time and since he was quite a bit taller, he couldn’t take as long steps as he wanted to. Cursed actors and stagehands seemed to be everywhere, staring in amazement at the spectacle, which didn’t improve his mood any. 

Viconia gave him a challenging look. “You had better hope we get this curse off before I have to drag you into the Little Matron’s Room with me, or there will be several shades of hell to pay.” 

Dekaras sighed again. He quite agreed with the sentiment. 

Trying to walk while firmly stuck to a testy drow was proving to be more of an inconvenience than Dekaras could have imagined. After trying in vain to get the curse removed in the Temple District, the magically attached pair had taken a coach to the Promenade, but once there they had to move about on their own. 

_On my own. Ha. I wish that were the case._

Not that he had anything against Viconia as such, she could be quite entertaining company when she so wished. It was just that there was only one female in the world with whom he wanted to be in this close physical contact, and she was far from here. _Luckily, or she would most likely take my head off with a spell before I could explain about the curse._

“Let’s hurry up and get this over with,” Viconia said. “We are attracting attention.” 

Dekaras looked around. She was quite correct, more than a few people were watching them with great interest. 

“Inconvenient,” he said. “I was supposed to lay low.” 

“Well, we could always kill them all, but I think that would cause even more of a stir.” 

“True. And since none of the temples we visited were able to help we seem to have only one cause of action left.” 

Viconia nodded, and a few strands of her silky white hair brushed against the assassin’s face, forcing him to suppress a sneeze. “The box that held the curses sent to the theatre. Let’s split up and…” She made a grimace. “I keep forgetting.”

“I don’t.” 

The priestess smirked. “I should hope not, or I would have to kill you for the insult.” 

“In which case you would find yourself stuck with my corpse, and I flatter myself with thinking that you would not find that an improvement on your situation.” 

They walked in silence for a while, taking turns on being the one walking backwards. Now and then they paused at the various silversmiths to make inquiries about the box. 

“So,” Viconia said after a while, “who is she?”

“She?”

“Your matron.” Those red eyes gave him a challenging stare, followed by a satisfied little half-smile. “There is no way you could be this indifferent about having all the charms of Viconia so close unless you were collared already.” 

“Confident, aren’t we?” Dekaras said, raising an eyebrow. “Perhaps you simply aren’t my type.” 

“I am anybody’s type, when I wish it.” She was smirking again. “No, you find me attractive enough, I can tell. I have many centuries of experience to draw on, after all. You do not act on it though and having ruled out timidity or insanity one option remains. So, I ask you again, who is she?” 

“Nobody you know,” Dekaras curtly said, passing the box over to another silversmith. 

“Drow?”

“No. Though I do think that you and she might get along quite well, actually. Well, assuming she never learnt about this little episode.” 

Viconia shrugged. “My lips are sealed.” She turned to glare at the silversmith, a very small and elderly halfling woman with her white hair pulled into a tight bun. “If you are quite done, I suggest you hand that box back, unless you wish for me to carry your bloody heart around in it from now on.” 

“Your p-pardons, ma’am,” the halfling hurriedly said. “But I know this box, it is of my making. It was sold only a week ago, to a gnome who needed it for some spell.” She smiled a rather feeble smile, displaying her two remaining teeth. “Now, since I see you two young lovebirds are all over each other, maybe a nice gift to commemorate that love? I sell these really lovely souvenir lockets, or maybe a set of silver handcuffs would be better suited…”

She paused at the two murderous glares leveled at her. “Or maybe not.” 

-*-

The address that the silversmith had given for Shvanana the Sorceress was one of the seedier dives of the Docks District. It was called the Dead Parrot and compared to the Sea’s Bounty much the same as an ogre’s used hankie would compare to a pristine linen tablecloth. The same basic substance is present, but none of the class. There were a few tables, crowded by rough looking people of all races, including a large and mysterious cloaked figure in one corner that had a pair of horns peeking out of its hood. Dekaras hoped it was a minotaur but thought it might well be some form of demon. He had worried that his and Viconia’s state might attract unwanted and possibly violent attention, but fortunately that wasn’t the case. The Dead Parrot was one of those places where the actual business idea is that nobody inside ever notices anything about what anybody else is doing unless it involves the spilling of drinks. 

Having carefully maneuvered themselves up a very rickety staircase, the drow and the assassin found themselves outside the proper door. The corridor in which they were standing left no doubt about the quality of the Dead Parrot’s housekeeping staff. At one end, wind whistled through a broken window, cockroaches scurried hurriedly out of sight, and it was very obvious that only some of the sticky stains on the floor were caused by spilt drinks. 

“Your way, or my way?” Viconia asked in a businesslike voice, staring at the door across Dekaras’ shoulder. 

“That would depend. What would your way be like?”

“Break the door down, and then impale the gnome witch on the pieces.” 

“My way then. We do want her to break the curse, after all, so premature death would be counterproductive.”

Viconia tossed her head briefly. “Fine, your way. But next time I get to pick.” 

Dekaras was already knocking on the door. “Shvanana?” he called out. “I bring you an urgent message from Ashley Parsley.” 

There was a brief silence, and then footsteps scuffling closer. “His mightiness wants me, does he?” a reedy voice said from behind the door. “He’d better not be wanting me to conjure another simulacrum of him for his little games, there are plenty of whores around if he’s got an itch to scratch…”

The door was pulled open, revealing a small and rather dirty gnome, with unwashed pale hair obscuring most of her face apart from her large nose. Noticing two people on her doorstep rather than one, she stiffened, reaching for the bags of spell components hanging from her frayed belt. Before she could reach them, Viconia grasped her arm. There was a brief flash of red light, and the gnome shrieked, clutching an arm that had suddenly cramped up with pain. Dekaras took the opportunity to unhook the pouches from the belt, leaving the gnome without easy access to her magic. 

“Silence, worm,” Viconia said, pushing the gnome further into the room. “We have questions to ask, and a task for you to carry out. If you satisfy, we may let you live.” She turned to Dekaras. “You knew it was Parsley?”

“An educated guess,” the assassin said. “Had I been wrong, it would have done no harm.” He eyed Shvanana thoughtfully. “He can’t have paid you very well for all those curses, seeing that you still live in this hovel.”

A pair of eyes glittered somewhere inside the shaggy hair, filled with hatred and malice. “He stiffed me all right,” Shvanana said. “Said he’d pay me fivehundred gold for those curses, and I’ve yet to see a single copper. When I asked him for it, he said he’d tell the Cowlies about me if I didn’t shut my mouth.” 

“Then I assume you would not be opposed to seeing him made very unhappy?”

The gnome shook her head vigorously. “Swear you won’t hurt me, and I’ll take the curse off,” she said. 

“Or we could just kill you,” Viconia said, baring her teeth in a smile. “That would also break the curse, and we’d get to have fun at the same time.” 

By now Shvanana was sweating a little. “But…but…” she said. 

“Then again,” Dekaras said, “it may be that you could motivate us further to spare you. My companion is in a somewhat cranky mood, and I have to admit I am not feeling exactly warm and fuzzy about you myself, or your employer.” 

“Huh?”

“He meant,” Viconia said, “that you will want to come with us and do exactly what we say, and breaking this curse is only the beginning. We want vengeance.” She smiled again, a cold smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “And if you prove to be a disappointment, you’ll learn that I do not need a Tentacle Rod in order to make surfacers scream for mercy.”

Shvanana hung her head in defeat. “I’ll do it,” she said. 

It didn’t take the gnome sorceress very long to lift the spell, once she got started. Dekaras stepped away from Viconia with a small sigh of relief – it was good to be able to breathe properly again without any unwanted distraction, not to mention being able to walk properly. 

“You might at least pretend to feel some regret about no longer touching me, already collared or not,” Viconia said, giving him a slightly annoyed glance.

“My apologies, Viconia. Believe me when I say it was a very memorable experience.” 

“Better.” The drow now turned to their gnome captive, grasped her by the collar and marched her out the door. “Now come, I want to get out of here and make Parsley’s life a living hell.” 

As the trio stepped into the street, they passed by a very skinny and rather sickly-looking young courtesan, wearing far too thin and skimpy clothes. She was huddled against the wall, trying to stay out of the wind, and turned her head at the approach of footsteps. “Want a good time?” she said, smiling feebly. Then she startled. “Shvanana?” she said. “What…”

“Not to worry,” the gnome hastily said. “Just…doing these folks a good turn. How’s business?”

The girl shrugged. “Bad,” she said, rubbing a bruise on her cheek. “Was easier before, with Noose around to keep the nasties off, but now…”

Dekaras gave her a sharp look. “Noose?” he asked. 

“My man,” the girl simply said. “You know him?”

“I have been looking for him for some time,” the assassin said. “For business purposes.” And once young Anomen finds the man responsible for his sister’s death, I dare say the business will be very short. 

The girl’s eyes filled with tears, but she hurriedly wiped them away, smearing her makeup. If anything, that made her look even sadder. “He’s been gone for ages,” she said. “Don’t know where he is.”

“Well, can you tell me where you last saw him then?”

She nodded hesitantly. “He was really happy…said he was going uptown; some bigwig was going to make him…us…loaded. Only, he never came back and…and I went to the house to ask for him, but they threw me out and said he’d never been there…”

“I see,” Dekaras said. The people of this place lead rough lives, yes. But could this really be a coincidence? He handed the girl a few coins. “What was the address of the house you went to?”

She told him, and he knew that coincidence could be ruled out for certain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In buddy cop movies, it's common to employ the Good Cop/Bad Cop trope. Dekaras and Viconia is more like Bad Cop/Worse Cop, taking turns, and right now they are both very put out.


	144. Revenge and Revelation

**Cards Reshuffled 144 – Revenge and Revelation**

_Helm teaches us that there are many kinds of evil in the world. There is the evil that is active, that seeks to dominate and conquer, that flaunts itself proudly, and that we know well. But there is also the evil born out of inaction and weakness, the evil of choosing to do what is easy rather than what is right, and that can be of quite equal danger to us. Watch, and be vigilant._

_Excerpt from ‘Sermon 389 by Odrig Gilstrom’_

“Wow…it’s beautiful,” Zaerini said, admiring the sword lying on the ground before her. A large two-hander, it was almost as tall as she was, and the gilded hilt was studded with diamonds and rubies. There was writing too, small yet perfectly legible letters winding their way around the hilt. “Carsomyr…so this is a paladin sword, is it?”

“Aye, my lady,” Anomen said, his voice filled with wonder. “A true Holy Avenger, and a nobler blade I have never laid eyes upon. Only a true paladin could hope to wield it, such swords have minds of their own and would punish any unworthy hand trying to raise it. Firkraag must have kept it out of pure spite, perhaps as a trophy from an earlier battle.”

“I hope its mind is a bit saner than Lilarcor’s, that’s all I’m saying. Anyway, time to get going. I think Jan is done.”

“That I am, your Worship,” Jan chirped from on top of the fallen Firkraag’s body. The gnome was industriously removing several of the gleaming bloodred scales and stuffing them into his knapsack. “Now this should make a fine shirt for somebody, or maybe a pair of slippers. Did I ever tell you about my Auntie Dorothy Jansen and her pair of red dragonscale slippers?”

“Yes!” Anomen hastily said. “Yes, yes, for the love of Helm yes!”

“Ah well, no harm done, Ano, seeing that you’re eager to hear it again. You see, Auntie Dorothy was quite the wizardess and enchanted her house into flying. Problem was that she’d forgotten to enchant it into landing, and so it dropped straight out of the sky and right on top of an elderly Rashemani Witch who was wearing said slippers. Well, Auntie Dorothy always believed in the ‘dead man’s shoes’ principle, so she naturally filched the slippers while the witch was still warm. Sadly, she couldn’t get her house started again, so she decided to make the long trek to the Red Wizard of Szul, accompanied only by her faithful friends, an iron golem, a straw golem and an impressive talking chicken.”

“A chicken hardly seems very impressive,” Edwin cut in with a faint sneer. “If you wanted impressive, why not something like a lion?”

“Ah, clearly you’ve never heard of the fearsome Attack Chickens of Doom, my poor friend, so I will forgive your ignorance for now. Anyway, the wizard, being a Red Wizard and all, wasn’t about to do favors for free, so he asked Auntie Dorothy to kill another Witch for him, this one being the Wicked Witch of the Vest, so named because…”

”She wore vests?” Anomen said in a dead, leaden voice.

“Ah, the boy is learning! Yes indeed, my dear Ano, she wore vests, and very tacky ones too, plaid with flower embroidery. The Wizard, being fashion conscious, couldn’t stand it. Anyway, Auntie Dorothy cheerfully accepted, and took off with her little assassination squad to the Witch’s mountain resort. Turns out though that it wasn’t necessary to kill her after all, as Auntie Dorothy was telling the Witch the entire story about why she’d come there, the Witch just up and threw herself out a window, and was savaged to death by her own army of flying monkeys.”

“I wonder why,” Edwin said. 

“So did Auntie Dorothy, as a matter of fact. Well, she went back to the Wizard and it turned out she had the means to get out of there all along, just by clicking the heels of her magical slippers together.”

“And so she got home?” Rini asked. 

“Well, no. She wound up on a lovely beach in Chult actually, where she founded a very expensive resort, crewed entirely by the flying monkeys. A very shrewd businesswoman was Auntie Dorothy.”

“Look,” Edwin snarled, “does this ridiculous story actually have any point at all? (My head…there is a stabbing pain right between my eyes…)”

Jan’s eyes were very large and innocent as he replied. “Why, no, not really. Just making friendly smalltalk in order to improve your mood, that’s all, seeing that you and Ano both seemed a bit surly. I’m always eager to help, you know.”

Rini wasn’t sure exactly what it was that Edwin said next, since he said it in Thayvian, but she had a feeling that ‘friendly smalltalk’ would not be the best definition of it.

-*-

Back in Athkatla, Ashley Parsley was very busy indeed, going over his list of Things to Do for today. 

1\. Write genius play in under five hours, involving seductive females in frilly underwear, men with manly chest hair, and various risqué allusions to zucchinis. 

2\. Write angry letters to all the major broadsheets of Athkatla, denouncing this absurd concept of ‘comedy’ spreading like a plague through the theatre district. Why, if you had the audience laughing, how could they possibly hope to be immersed in the tales of wonder and tragedy displayed on the stage? 

3\. Order more zucchinis. You could never have too many zucchinis on stage. 

4\. Take a bath. 

5\. With the zucchinis. 

The Halfling smiled as he finished his list, rubbing his hands briskly. Yes, it looked to be a good day. With the theatre of his oh-so-inferior competitor currently out of commission, he could concentrate fully on his next masterpiece. “Let’s see…” he said to himself. “How to put this tastefully, yet erotically? Ah, that’s it. ‘The male member is like a zucchini, striving forever towards the sun, bursting with passionate lifejuices...’ yes, that’s it.” Whistling to himself, he set off towards his stage-entrance, meaning to make his way to the vegetable market in the Promenade. What he didn’t notice, however, was the slight movement in the shadows behind him, or the gentle mist that noiselessly was sprayed onto his clothes. 

Ashley frowned to himself, drawing to a halt. What was that strange smell in the air? He couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Something part flowery, part fishy. He could see nothing amiss though. And then, he heard a throaty bass voice directly behind him, and froze with abject horror. 

“Little pretty one! I not sees you around for too long!” 

With a highly undignified squeal, the little theatre manager turned around to see not one, not two, but three burly ogres watching him with great interest. All of them wore outfits composed mostly of black leather straps, which was bad enough, but the one in the middle, the one in the middle wore a very tight shirt decorated with Ashley’s own face and the legend ‘Pick Parsley’. With a sinking feeling of horror, Ashely recognized his own merchandise. He also recognized the lustful look on the ogre’s face. “You run away so fast last time,” the creature complained. “I not have time get your otty-graff…maybe this time you sign it on my bum-bum, heh? And then maybe us have some backstage fun?” With a horribly eager grin, the ogre approached, holding out a large pen. 

“Eeeeeeeeeeeek!” Ashley Parsley screamed, and he set off down the road at full speed, followed closely by the three eager ogres. After a few moments of silence, there was an amused snort from the shadows in the narrow alley near the stage-entrance, and then two people appeared, both of them looking quite pleased with themselves. 

“Not bad, not bad at all,” Viconia said, smiling a vicious smile. “What was in that mixture you doused him with, exactly?”

“Oh, mostly ogre musk,” Dekaras replied, his smile mirroring that of the drow in terms of pure malice. “And lilacs to mask the smell a bit. I must commend you on your choice of summoning spell as well – I had only expected ogres, not quite so exotic ones.” 

“Our dear Ashley has some fans, it seems,” Viconia said. “I couldn’t deny them the pleasure of his company. Shall we be getting back then? I had to get special dispensation from Shar to get that spell to work, so I must put some extra prayers in, but I’d say it was worth it.”

“Oh yes,” the assassin agreed. “Though I should perhaps be a trifle worried. Taking this much pleasure in not killing somebody cannot be quite healthy…” 

-*-

Upon returning to the Five Flagons theatre, Zaerini was surprised to find the place in some disarray. There were trails of slime being cleaned off the walls, several of the actors just sat staring at nothing, muttering to themselves, and Higgold was in tears. As much as she tried, she couldn’t get any sort of sensible explanation at all out of him. She made her way to Viconia’s office, and found the drow in a very good mood, and in company. Viconia and Dekaras were both sitting in comfortable armchairs in front of the fireplace, drinking tea and making what probably had to be called small talk. 

“What of lassoes?” Viconia asked. “I know many of our assassins swear by them.”

“I have tried,” Dekaras said, taking another sip of tea. “But I find that I prefer a regular garrote, I think that grants a higher level of precision. Of course, I can see how drow, being shorter than I am, would enjoy the extra reach…” He turned his head around. “Ah, welcome back. Did you enjoy yourselves with the ogres?”

Viconia snickered quietly. “Hopefully not in the same manner that Parsley is doing.” 

“Parsley?” Rini started. “What…”

“No ogres!” Edwin eagerly cut in. “It was paladins, enchanted to look like ogres, and we killed them all! Only then we got a bounty put on our heads by the Order, but that’s all right, because we found Firkraag and killed him, and he was a red dragon, the most magnificent beast imaginable, and I really wish it would have been possible to tame him, but the treasure was still…”

“I think,” Zaerini said, giving her lover a fond hug, “that we’d best start from the beginning. And then I want to hear all about Parsley and the ogres.” 

Sometime later, stories had been fully exchanged, to the mutual satisfaction of all parties. “Are you sure you still don’t want him killed?” Viconia asked, referring to Ashely Parsley. “He may be little more than a nuisance, but a time consuming one.” 

Zaerini frowned, idly scratching Softpaws behind the ears. The black cat was curled up on her lap, purring loudly. “You know,” she said, “if he does try something like that again I don’t really care what happens to him, as long as it doesn’t make trouble for us.”

The drow grinned. “Free hands, abbil? This could be very amusing.” 

“There is one more thing,” Dekaras thoughtfully said, turning to Anomen. “I saved it for last on purpose, since I believe it requires some thought.”

The cleric sat up straighter, his eyes eager. “You found the villain involved in my sister’s murder?” he asked. “The one, called ‘Noose’?”

“Well, yes and no. I found somebody who knew him. It seems he has disappeared very suddenly, after a visit to a certain wealthy home.” 

Anomen grew a few shades paler, and his jaw was set with tension. “Not…Saerk?” he asked. “Are you going to tell me that my…my father was right all along?”

“No. Not Saerk.” The assassin gave Anomen a very peculiar look, half hesitant, half sympathetic. “The address given was 7 Amethyst Square. I believe you would know who lives there.” 

And Anomen’s shoulders suddenly sagged, as he sat down heavily. “Aye…” he murmured. “I do.”

“Anomen?” Jaheira asked, and her voice was edged with worry. “What is the matter? Who lives in that house?”

“Prelate Wessalen of the Order,” Anomen said in a heavy, emotionless voice. “And also, his son and heir Jory…who was courting my sister Moira at the time of her death.” 

-*-

_Moira._

The word echoed through Anomen’s mind, again and again, as he walked. He was vaguely aware that his strides were fast, and of the way his armor clanked. The voices of his companions were a distant buzzing in his ears, drowned out by the voice within. 

_Moira._

How could he have been so blind? Why? 

_Because I did not want to believe that the very man Moira loved might have betrayed her. It makes her death even more cruel than it was._

“Anomen!” Jaheira’s voice penetrated his swirling thoughts, aided by the fact that the druid had grasped him firmly by the arm. “Where are you going?” 

“I intend to seek out Jory Wessalen,” Anomen replied, surprised at how calm his voice sounded. “I will confront him and demand the truth.”

“How will you know that whatever he tells you is the truth?”

Anomen had thought of that. “I will ask for the guidance of Helm in this matter.” He took Jaheira by the hand, squeezing it briefly. “Believe me; I have no wish to act rashly. I nearly slew Saerk due to my anger and lust for vengeance. This time it is justice I seek, and justice alone.” 

Zaerini came up on his other side, looking rather anxious. “Ano…what about your Test? Aren’t you supposed to…”

“Moira must come first,” Anomen firmly stated. “I cannot go to my Test until I know what her fate was; my soul would be in too much turmoil. Also, it is not yet quite time. I have notified the Order that I am returned to Athkatla, and I will be summoned there shortly. There should be enough time to seek Wessalen out before that.” 

The bard sighed. “Yeah…I understand. Well, we’ll all come with you then.”

“That is not…”

“Oh yes, it is,” Jaheira interrupted, her green eyes staring directly into his. “While I appreciate that you wish to keep things calm and civilized, there is no telling what this man may do if he gets desperate. Far better that we are all there, able to subdue him, than that you be forced to slay him.”

Anomen looked about, startled to say that indeed they all had come, even Edwin. Why, even Edwin’s assassin friend. He momentarily wondered how the Order would view that, and then shrugged the thought off. “Are you all certain?” he asked. “I do intend to keep to the law, but in case something should go wrong the Order would consider you all my accomplices.” 

“Oh, what are friends for, Ano?” Jan said, grinning. “Besides, I’d never forgive myself if I missed the chance to be part of a story like this one, it would be positively un-gnomelike.” 

“I consider you a fool to prattle on about justice rather than simply have this man terminated once you are certain of his guilt,” Edwin said. Then his sneer faded, and he wrapped his arm around Zaerini’s waist, holding her tightly. “But it seems my Hellkitten is intent on doing this, and I will go where she goes.” Zaerini smiled, giving the wizard a brief kiss on the lips. 

“And I want to be certain Edwin does not get into trouble with one more powerful organization,” Dekaras said, with a small quirk to his lips. “Besides, I respect your devotion to your family.” 

“Minsc and Boo will always go where the dirty footprints of Evil are smudged on the floor of Justice!” Minsc said, holding his hamster proudly aloft. “And Evil beware, for we will bring the Sword of Springcleaning!” Boo squeaked eagerly at that. 

“Thank you,” Anomen simply said. “All of you. I…appreciate this. Let us go then.” 

He had already walked a block before he noticed that Jaheira’s arm was still firmly hooked under his. She smiled up at him. “You will do well,” she said, and he was uncertain whether it was a statement or a command. Either way, it eased the turmoil inside just a little, and he did manage a smile back, feeble as it was. I will hold to Helm’s teachings. For my sake, for Moira’s…and for her. I will not disappoint her. 

The Wessalen home was a splendid building made from white stone and surrounded by a high wall. Two young squires stood posted at the open gate. 

“Halt!” one of the lads said as he saw the group approaching. “Who goes there, friend or foe?” 

“I am Anomen Delryn, fellow servant of the Order,” Anomen said, inwardly surprised at how calm and collected his voice sounded. “These are my traveling companions. I have come to see Jory Wessalen. It is a matter of great importance.” 

“How do we know you aren’t of evil intent?” the young man suspiciously asked. “You could be a base villain cowardly cloaking your true identity for some nefarious purpose.”

“Yes!” the other one piped up. “In all the month since we joined the Order, we’ve never even seen you.”

Helm’s beard, this is the last thing we need. Though it does them credit that they take their duty seriously, of course. 

“I have been traveling,” Anomen explained, trying not to snap, even though he was practically foaming with impatience. “It is no wonder you haven’t met me.” 

“Well, you could still be evil!” the first squire said, his rather round cheeks twitching nervously. “Say, Rocky, have you learnt Detect Evil yet?” 

“Not as such, Woody,” said the second in an apologetic voice. “Haven’t gotten further than Detect Dustbunny, and that’s only because Sir Ryan Trawl has this thing about daily sweeping of the dormitories…”

“Oh, for the Abyss’ sake…” Edwin muttered, and then made a few quick gestures as he whispered something Anomen couldn’t make out. The two squires dropped to the ground, snoring loudly. “There,” the wizard said, brushing his hands against each other. “Now can we please get on with this before my beard reaches knee-length? (What I would not give for a spell of transformation from man to toad.)” 

“You go on,” Dekaras said, hauling a coil of rope out of his pack. “I’ll put them somewhere out of harm’s way and catch up with you later.” 

Anomen nodded. “Agreed.” Moira…the time draws closer. Soon, my dear sister. Soon. 

Under other circumstances, perhaps Anomen would have been intimidated by the splendor of the grand house that loomed above him. Perhaps he would have been reminded of the decline of House Delryn, of how his father kept sinking further into ruin, and of how Anomen himself had always been snubbed by the inhabitants of houses just like this one. But not today, no. Moira filled his heart and mind, all the little memories from their childhood both happy and sad. _There was happiness as well as sadness, aye. And somebody took that happiness away. Somebody…_

“Young Master Wessalen?” a voice said, and the skeptical face of a portly manservant looked back at Anomen. “Very well, I will let him know you are here. Pray follow me.” 

Anomen blinked. He had been too preoccupied with his thoughts – why, he must have spoken to the servant while thinking solely of Moira. This would not do; he must keep his head for one. Trying to take calm and deep breaths he followed the servant through the elegant rooms of the house. 

“Anomen?” Jaheira’s voice, close by, the fresh and pure scent of her wafting into his nostrils. “Anomen, I…you do not stand alone in this. Remember that.” 

“I do,” he said, trying to manage a smile. “I…”

A door opened behind him, and footsteps approached. “Delryn?” a new voice said. “By all the gods, this is a surprise. What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be…”

Anomen felt his back stiffen as he turned around. Moira. The time is now. 

Jory Wessalen was fairly tall, with sandy hair that tumbled playfully across his forehead. He had an open and friendly face, and what Anomen had heard ladies refer to as ‘boyish good looks’, marred only by a rather weak chin. Anomen stepped right up to him, looking him straight in the eyes, making certain the other man had his back to the wall. 

“A man who called himself ‘Noose’ came to this house some time ago,” he said. “He went inside but did not come out again. I presume he came here to deal with you. Was he perchance blackmailing you over your part in my sister’s death? Did you arrange for his death in order to cover your tracks, you cowardly little weasel?” 

Wessalen simply stared at him as if he thought Anomen had gone mad. “You…what are you saying?” he sputtered. “You accuse me of Moira’s death?”

“You knew my sister,” Anomen went on. His hand whipped up and he grasped the other man by his elegant collar, half lifting him off the ground. “I know you were seeing her.”

“That is hardly a crime! Moira…sh-she was a lovely girl, I cared for her!”

“Cared for her? She _loved_ you. I have it in her own writing that she saw you with that villain…that ‘Noose’ fellow.” Anomen’s voice lowered into a growl, and he had to fight down the urge to strike the other man. “You were dealing in Black Lotus, and he was your supplier. Moira saw you, and because she loved you, she tried to do something about it. And you had her brutally murdered in order to hide your crimes, do you dare deny that?”

Jory Wessalen looked terrified by now. He shook his head, then looked momentarily confused. “No…no…I mean yes! I d-do deny it…you….you don’t understand…”

Anomen gave him a searching look. He was frightened, yes. Lying to save his own skin, perhaps? And yet there was something in his voice that gave Anomen pause. _Helm, guide me now._ “I will have the truth,” Anomen calmly said. _Can you handle the truth?_ A voice asked inside his mind, stern yet compassionate, and he knew that voice, he knew it. _Yes, my Lord. I can, and I will._

Jory hung limply in his grasp now, and whatever he saw in Anomen’s face had him trembling and white-faced. “It is t-true that I had dealings with him,” he hurriedly said. “With Noose. But I wasn’t selling, I was buying, I swear it! You don’t understand, you don’t know what it’s like, how good it feels when the mists come into your head and everything is so pretty…Moira, she found out, I guess. I didn’t know she had, not until it was too late…”

Anomen’s grip tightened a little, and he had to ease up to stop from choking the other man. “Too late?” he asked, still in that calm voice that sounded as if it belonged to somebody else. 

“She…she told my father. I’ve never seen him so furious in my life, he kept on about me putting the reputation of the family in danger, that even buying the stuff was illegal and I could ruin us all if anybody found out.” He gave a small sob. “Why would she tell him if she loved me?”

“Presumably she wanted to help you, misguided as that effort was,” Jaheira said in an icy voice. “And then what happened?”

“Father…he said he would take care of everything, that all would be well. He sent me off to relatives in the country.” He was sobbing now, tears streaming down his face. “And when I returned, Moira was…she was…I swear I never wanted that to happen.”

He was telling the truth. Anomen knew it with a chilling finality granted by the divine presence he could feel within. And then, just as he was about to speak the words he did not wish to speak, there was a sound from outside. The sound of bells, deep and sonorous bells, calling the faithful. 

Jory looked at him, still with those tearful eyes, and swallowed. “Father…said it would be your time today, that’s why I was so surprised to see you here.”

“And so it is,” Anomen replied, and his heart was heavy within his chest. “The time of my Test is upon me. I will not keep your father waiting.”


	145. Test of Faith

**Cards Reshuffled 145 – Test of Faith**

_Stand fast ‘gainst temptations of evil  
Be true in whatever you seek  
Your justice be tempered by mercy  
Be strong in defense of the weak_

_Ancient rhyme, written in the margins of an old textbook found in the Order’s library, alongside some bawdy limericks in the same hand. Attributed to one ‘Keldorn Firecam’_

The Prelate Wessalen stood before the altars of Tyr, Torm and Helm, in the innermost sanctum of the Order. The chapel itself was fairly small, just the altars themselves and enough space for a handful of people. It opened up into a larger assembly hall though, and even now, through the ringing of the bells, the Prelate could hear the anticipatory murmur of the crowd gathered there. 

_So many to have come. I would not have expected young Delryn to have so many friends. But then again_ , he thought, _they weren’t necessarily friends as such._ Anybody even casually acquainted with Anomen Delryn would have heard the rumors of his late heroic exploits by now, mingled with the heady scent of scandal. Paladins slain. Though there was an explanation given for that, not everybody may choose to believe it. 

But of course, that was exactly what the Test was for, was it not? To part the worthy from the unworthy, to let the gods guide the Order in who to accept or reject. 

_The gods. What would they say of what I mean to do? Of what I have done?_ He had not dared pray for quite some time now, afraid of the answer. _And yet I would do it again if I had to. For my son. For Jory._

The Prelate had never felt the weight of his gilded armor as heavily as he did right now, and it seemed to him that the weight of his deeds was added to it. He stared at the stern and clean marble altar of Helm before him until his eyes ached and watered, imagining it smeared with innocent blood. _I never wished for that. Never. But Jory…he would have been ruined. I could not let it happen._ A few drops of sweat trickled down his neck, itching inside his armor. He willed himself to remain still. He was expected to stay in here, in solitude, seeking the guidance of the gods before the Test to come. He had to keep up appearances, he had sacrificed too much not to. 

The bells fell silent, and the Prelate heard the silence outside, a silence so heavy that it threatened to crush his soul. He knew what it meant. The supplicant is come. He had to follow the protocol. Hadn’t he done this dozens of times before, enough times that he could practically do it in his sleep? _Yes. But not like this. Nay, never like this._

No choice. No turning back. He composed his face, wishing to be seen as stern, yet calm, and he stepped out from within the inner sanctum to face the last man in the world he wished to see. 

His first thought was how young Anomen Delryn still seemed, despite his fine armor and obviously magical weaponry, despite the strength of his body. Then their eyes met across the crowded assembly hall, and he knew how wrong he had been. This was not the youth he remembered, trying to hide his insecurities beneath arrogant bluster and pomp. This was a man, tempered by danger and despair. And…

_He knows._ The knowledge hit the Prelate like an icy blade twisting his innards. He looked into the younger man’s dark blue eyes, unable to look away from what he saw there. Anger, betrayal, yes, but there was something there, something he couldn’t quite identify. He was only vaguely aware of young Delryn’s companions, a small group flanking him protectively as if they expected an attack from the assembled paladins and clergy. _I cannot fail, not now. I must carry on._

He briefly cleared his throat, and the dry sound rang out sharply in the silent hall. “Anomen Delryn, son of Cor and Moirala, do you stand before me pledged to the service of justice? Do you stand before me pledged to the service of righteousness?”

For a moment Anomen was silent, and there was still that look in his eyes. Eventually he spoke. “Prelate of the Order, I so stand. I pledge my life to the service of justice and righteousness.”

The words were the right ones, and yet it was going wrong, he knew it and yet he had to go on, had to speak the words needing to be spoken. _Observe the form. Always observe the form._ “Anomen Delryn, do you stand before me seeking a knighthood of the Order? Do you stand before me prepared to accept the Judgement of Torm? Are your actions and those you travel with laid bare? Shall I judge you as I have been judged?”

“No sir,” Delryn said, his voice clear and strong. “I would prefer for the gods to judge us both.”

There was much shocked and affronted murmuring in the assembly hall. The Prelate let his gaze drift upwards, towards the Allseeing Eye of Helm painted on the ceiling. _They know. Surely, they know, and he is their instrument. Yet I cannot give in so easily, I cannot turn back now._ “Of what do you speak?” he asked, marveling at how calm his voice sounded. 

Anomen took a step forward. “With Helm and these honest folk as my witnesses, I accuse you, Prelate Wessalen, of conspiring to murder my sister, Moira Delryn. This was done in order to keep secret the involvement of your son, Jory Wessalen, with the trafficking of the drug known as Black Lotus. Do you deny these charges?”

The Prelate squared his shoulders, standing as straight as he could. “I do deny them,” he calmly said. “Do you have any proof of these wild tales of yours, or shall we put them down as the natural distress of a young man who has recently suffered a grievous loss? You would not be the first such man to seek to place blame, your own father…”

“I am not my father,” Anomen said in a sharp voice. “And while there is some proof to be shared, I do not know if it would be enough to condemn you in a court of law. Yet, there is another way.” Another step forward. “I demand a trial by combat, here before the eyes of the gods, and may they determine guilt or innocence.” 

He was trapped, and he knew it. By the laws of the Order young Delryn did indeed have the right to make such a demand, and to refuse it, especially in public, would be considered an admission of guilt. Yet all need not be lost. Anomen was younger, probably stronger, but not as experienced. And there was one more advantage to be had of being the challenged one. 

“Very well,” he said, not looking away from the other man. “I will indulge you in this madness, and may the gods have mercy upon your misguided soul.” A brief pause. “As the challenged party, you are aware that it is my privilege to choose weapons?”

Anomen nodded stiffly. “I am.” 

“Then know that my choice is the greatsword. Now, do you still persist in your charges, or do you withdraw them? I swear that they will not be counted against you in your Testing.” 

For the first time, Anomen seemed to hesitate. He turned around, whispering quietly with his companions. The Prelate strained his ears, trying to hear what was spoken, but could not do so. “As a cleric, I am sworn not to wield edged weapons,” Anomen said. “Though of course you would know this, sir. I would need the dispensation of my god in order to do so.”

“And you have it!” The High Priest of Helm, gods curse him, glaring at the Prelate from beneath his bushy eyebrows with what had to be named suspicious. “The custom is what it is, but Helm will not deny the quest for justice. For this once, you are permitted to take up a sword, Anomen Delryn. I shall have one brought here at once.” 

“No need for that.” It was one of the young man’s companions, a redheaded half-elf, who was smiling a small and rather dangerous smile. _Her…can it be? The description fits! The Child of…_ “He has a sword,” the Bhaalspawn said, and she was holding out a large blade to Delryn, one that was shining like a star, though its hilt was closely wrapped. It seemed the young man was about to refuse. Certainly, he hesitated, but then he closed his eyes for a moment, as if listening to an inner voice, and held out his hand. When he raised the sword, the Prelate could feel the tension in the air increasing further, though he could not have said why. _A sword…why…_

But there was no time to think. No way to escape. With a heavy heart, the Prelate of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart stepped forward, and he took up his sword in battle. 

The assembly hall was circular, with seats along the walls and an empty space in the middle. Normally that area would be used for ceremonial purposes, such as the formal knighting of a squire. Right now, though, the business conducted there was deathly serious. The Prelate and his younger opponent circled each other warily, each trying to get a feel for the other man’s strengths and weaknesses. Finally, they clashed with the ring of steel against steel, then broke apart again. Again, and again they came at each other, and it was becoming clear that though the sword was not Anomen’s habitual weapon, he was well trained in its use. The Prelate could feel the fine sheen of sweat on his forehead, and he focused on taking deep breaths, on staying focused. 

_The Conquering Sun._ He brought his sword up sharply according to the form, attempting a stroke for his opponent’s ribcage. It was sidestepped. _Waves on the Water._ A sinuous feint and swing, blocked. _Shadows Walking. Cat Cradle. Flashfire._ Again, and again, and again, until his muscles were aching and his lungs burning. _Why is he not attacking? Why does he simply keep blocking me? Is he trying to humiliate me?_ And just then, Delryn did attack, with a forceful blow delivered by the flat of his sword against the Prelate’s elbow. The pain almost made him cry out, and he felt the bitter taste of defeat in his mouth as his own sword clattered to the ground, broken. Yet he could not yield, for it would mean admitting defeat, admitting guilt. _Jory. Forgive me._

“Sir, your sword is broken,” young Delryn said, still with that strange look in his eyes. “Will you yield?”

“I will not,” he breathed. “I cannot.” 

Again, Anomen hesitated for a moment, and his face took on a distant look, as if he was listening to a voice that only he could hear. “If you will not yield sir, then honor demands that I offer you a new sword.” He held his own out, hilt first. “Take up mine then, and may the gods judge you as I have been judged.” 

It was a trap. It had to be. Yet how could he refuse, without appearing the coward, without admitting his guilt? Slowly, feeling like a man caught in a nightmare, struggling to run from some unseen beast, Prelate Wessalen held his hand out, and it clasped the handle of the shining sword before him. 

The pain started slowly, a prickling sensation in his fingers and palm, and then spread, a white explosion of agony that seared not merely his hand but his very soul. Through the haze of pain, he clung to the sword, unable to let go, reveling in the agony it brought. _Yes. I deserve this. It is just._ He thought he could see stern figures, three of them, watching him from within the white fire, denouncing him. _I have failed, my Lords, I have been false and faithless._ Then, there was the stinging smell of burning meat, of acrid smoke, and he found himself on the ground, sobbing like a child from the pain inside, holding the dead, black thing that had once been his right hand. _The mark…the mark of justice._

Gasps of horror were heard all around, and already somebody raised the cry of ‘Foul magic!’. Through the din, he could hear another voice, one he knew well, or once had. _Sir Keldorn…I thought him mostly retired. Would that I had retired too, years ago, before it came to this._

“Not magic!” the old paladin called out. “Observe this.” He crossed the floor, picked up the sword, and held it aloft, having first unwrapped the hilt. It shone like the sun, a thing of beauty and holy power, and how could he have missed it, how could he have failed to see? _Blinded. Blinded by the will of the gods._

“Carsomyr!” Sir Keldorn called out. “The fabled Holy Avenger, the blade of justice, so long lost to us and now restored from within the clasp of evil. She will not suffer to be touched by the wicked or the false, and only a true paladin may take her up in battle.” 

There was a roar of assent, one that nearly shook the walls of the assembly hall. 

“Carsomyr!”

“Carsomyr!”

“Blade of justice!”

“The challenge is done!”

“Aye,” Sir Keldorn said, “the challenge is truly done, and the gods have spoken. Sir Anomen Delryn, for rooting out the evil in our midst, for standing fast against temptation, for choosing justice over blind vengeance, we honor you. Know also that whatever your title in the church records may be, I feel honored to call you a fellow paladin.” 

Anomen looked a little dazed, as if he couldn’t quite fathom what he was hearing. He knelt by the fallen Prelate, bending close. “My sister…”

“I did not mean it,” Prelate Wessalen whispered. _The light…it burnt. It hurts…it hurts to fall from so great a height._ “I sent them…to frighten her. No more. Simply to make certain she kept quiet. I couldn’t let it get out, my son…my own blood…”

And now he knew the look of pity in Anomen’s eyes for what it was, and he knew that the Test was at an end. 

-*-

“He went off for a walk?” Sir Ryan Trawl said, sounding mildly dismayed. The paladin pulled at his mustache, then shook his head. “This is highly inconvenient; there are many important things of which we must speak with him.” 

“Well, he needed to clear his head a bit,” Zaerini explained, trying to look more alert than she felt. It wasn’t easy though, they’d done a lot of traveling lately, and all she really wanted was to curl up on the marble bench she was sitting on and take a nap. “He’s been through a lot, you know.” 

“Indeed, I do know,” the paladin said, nodding. “If he needs solitude and calm, then so be it, but please inform him when he returns that I need to discuss the affairs of the Order with him. I shall be in my quarters; he knows where they are located.” 

“I wouldn’t quite call it solitude,” Jan said with a cheeky grin. “I wouldn’t call it calm either, not with a certain lady druid there. Now, bets on if they started smooching before they got out the door or not?”

Sir Ryan Trawl gave him a mortified look. “Why…my, my good gnome,” he said. “That is a very ungentlemanly…”

“Jan is not a man, he is a naughty little hamster-stealing gnome,” Minsc helpfully commented. 

“Ungentlegnomely comment I should say. I am certain that…”

“That it’s none of our business,” Rini said. “Is it, Jan?”

“Aw, but your Worship, they don’t call me Dr Lovegnome for nothing…”

“Jan, no.” The half-elf placed her hands on her hips, staring the grinning gnome down. “I mean, I don’t know if they are, but even if they are, then I’m sure they don’t hardly know it yet, and it wouldn’t be fair for us to spoil it for them by teasing them that they are…” She blinked. “If you see what I mean.”

“Extraordinary,” Dekaras said in a dry voice. “And here I had always been under the impression that bards are eloquent.” 

“Well, _you_ know what I mean.” 

“Certainly, I do. I am used to marking Edwin’s essays, after all. He once drifted away from the topic of illusionary versus divination magic and into a three-page description of the floating castle he intended to build when growing up.” 

“That was a long time ago,” Edwin protested, and his cheeks turned quite red. “And I still think it is entirely within the realm of possibility, as long as you get the weather-patterns under complete control. (There should be turrets. Many turrets and a moat filled with sparkling wine and fierce guardian demons. Though not in the moat, that would spoil the wine.)” He blinked. “Wait one moment – are you saying that the druid and the Helmite are…” 

Rini sighed. “Let’s just go back to the Five Flagons,” she said. “I’m sure they’ll be along later – once they’ve sorted things out.” 

-*-

“Anomen?” Jaheira asked. “How are you feeling?” She was walking close by the cleric through the nicely shaded and cool green of the Government District’s park and had to crane her neck backwards a little in order to study him. There was a weary sadness in his eyes, but relief as well. He smiled at her, and there was something there that hadn’t been there before. A new sense of strength perhaps, of wisdom and purpose. 

_No, that is wrong. Those things – they were always there, were they not? Like a diamond in the rough, and now the gem is shown for what it really is._

“I am tolerably well, my l…Jaheira,” he replied. “The truth of my sister’s death has come to light, and now I believe she may be at peace.” 

“And you as well?”

“And I as well, or so I hope.” The smile broadened just a little bit. “Though verily, I barely know the meaning of the word, I have had very little experience with it.” 

_I would that I could give it to him._ Jaheira halted at that thought, frowning a little. _What am I thinking of?_ “What peace I have found in my life, I found mostly with Khalid,” she quietly said. How strange – the sorrow was still there, but it did not hurt to speak of her beloved husband as it once had. At least, not with Anomen. _He knows what it is like after all, to lose one you love so much. He understands it._

In the distance, there was the sound of seagulls crying, as for the souls of those gone far away to distant shores. The air was suddenly filled with the sharp smell of the sea, and of sunlight on grass.

“I know,” he said, and his eyes did not leave hers. They were blue, so dark a blue, and so filled with…what was that she saw? “Would that I could give him back to you, Jaheira. I would do so in an instant.”

He meant it; she could tell that much. That was important, that he meant it. Why was it so important? She didn’t know, only that it was. _Bah, I am feeling as befuddled as a young girl drunk on Evermead._ She cleared her throat, trying to adopt a brisk voice. “I understand the Order are now offering you a more elevated position within their ranks. A knight, no less. Will your missions for them require you to leave us?” 

She sounded far too anxious for her own liking and tried to amend that by scowling. It did not work very well though. 

“No,” he simply said, smiling. “I had not had time to tell you yet, but it is not as you think.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Sir Ryan Trawl is now filling the Prelate’s position until a new one can be formally appointed. He graciously offered that as a Knight of the Order I could still travel within our little fellowship, for now.”

“Well, that is good news, is it not?”

“It is indeed. Especially if I had accepted the position as a Knight of the Order.”

“Yes, you…what?”

Again, that smile, that happy, relieved smile. “Jaheira, the gods truly blessed me during this battle. They looked down upon me, they Judged me, and they found me satisfying, for now. That is what is important, what I want. To know that I can champion good causes, that I am worthy to do so. And what greater cause do I currently have to champion than the one right in front of me? The Order would allow me to aid Zaerini, perhaps, for now. Yet that might well change as a new Prelate is appointed. I cannot risk that, I know in my heart that this is the path I am meant to travel, for now. Helm will guide me, and I will follow his guidance, but apart from that I must be free to act.” 

“You…turned down the position?”

“Aye, I did.” He took her hand, holding it gently between his own two larger ones. “Jaheira, I know this quest of ours will not last forever. I will carry out the duty I have taken up, but one day that duty will come to an end. When that day comes…Jaheira, when that day comes, there is no position I would rather hold than that of your companion and friend. Companion, friend – and perhaps, one day, something more. Please believe me when I say that nothing in this world could fill me with more joy, not ten knightly titles or twenty holy swords.”

Jaheira simply stared at him, unable to take her eyes off him. She knew that her mouth was partially open, and that it probably made her look idiotic, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to close it. Emotions…so many emotions, swirling inside, far too fast for her to sort them out. 

“Anomen…” she began. “I…”

“Please. You do not need to say anything, not yet. I know it is sudden, and presumptuous, and that it is far too soon. But it occurred to me that had I been slain in my duel, I could never have gone peacefully to the Halls of the Watcher without you knowing who holds my heart, and has done so for some time now. It is battered, and bruised, but it is yours, Jaheira, to do with what you will.” Again, that smile, that smile that seemed to turn her into a mindless fool unable to speak or even to think. “I pray only that you do not accidentally drop it.” 

She had to speak, had to say something. But what was she going to say? She suddenly realized that she had no idea at all of that. Still, she opened her mouth, trying to recall how to form proper words and intelligent sentences. She started to speak. And then, she was rudely interrupted. 

“Jaheira,” a voice spoke behind her, a voice that she knew very well indeed. “Your time is at an end. “ She turned, seeing sunlight flash of silver embroidery on a gray robe, and she looked straight into the face of a man she had once loved like a father. 

“Dermin,” she said.” I am ready.” 

-*-

Meanwhile, at the Five Flagons, Zaerini was packing her things, trying to think of what she ought to bring along to a nasty magical prison, and trying not to think of what might already have happened to poor Imoen inside that magical prison. She’d go see Gaelan Bayle this very evening, she decided, there was no sense in delaying any longer now that she had the money. 

_I’m ready now, as ready as I can ever be. Hold on Immy, I’ll be there soon._

Edwin was sitting cross-legged on their bed, embellishing his robe with even more gold embroidery, while also trying to distract Softpaws and Insufferable into not bothering him. The cat and the monkey were watching the shining thread with fascination, and now and then one or the other of them would bat at it with a paw, risking a tangling of the fine stitches. He really seemed to be in a world of his own, and Rini decided to come back later. Once he was closer to getting finished, she meant to distract him good and proper. Grinning to herself at that thought, she headed out the door and downstairs to the taproom, to see if any of her friends were around. The only ones there were Dekaras and Jan, sitting at a table and seemingly preoccupied with a game of dice of all things. This gave her a pause, since it wasn’t quite what she had expected from the assassin. But then, she reflected, she didn’t know him all that well yet, did she? He wasn’t exactly prone to sharing personal information, after all. 

“Hi, guys,” she said, drawing up a chair and sitting down to them. “Who’s winning?”

“That,” Dekaras said, “is somewhat complicated to determine. Would you say that casting an illusion that you’ve just thrown all sixes tops switching the dice manually before you throw them? Or is it the other way around?” 

“Clearly I’m the winner here, Vaddy,” Jan protested. “Why, just look at this.” He waved his hand over the table, and the dice grew, becoming soft, fluffy and woolen. The gnome grinned. “Try switching them now, eh?”

The assassin raised an eyebrow. “I admit that is a trick I am not capable of,” he said. “However, if we had just been playing for money, I would at this point educate you on why one does best in not being blatant in one’s little tricks when playing against somebody prone to violence.”

“You’re competing in cheating?” Rini asked. 

“Indeed,” Dekaras said. “It is good practice, in many ways.” He turned to Jan. “I think you would enjoy pitting yourself against my friend Poppy, she is more skilled at sleight of hand than I am.”

“Ah, goody,” the gnome nodded. “And less prone to violence?”

“More, actually. Think of it as a challenge.” 

Jan was just about to reply, but at that point a small gnome boy came running up to him, red-faced and panting to hard he could barely breathe. “Urgent…message…” he wheezed. 

“There there,” Jan said, patting the lad on the head. “No use making your lungs explode, not unless you want to end up like my cousin, Flossie Jansen, who…” 

But there, he interrupted himself, as he read the letter. His face turned an ashy pale colour, and he had to grab hold of the table to steady himself. 

“Jan?!” Zaerini said, grasping the gnome by the shoulder. “Jan, what’s wrong?” 

He looked up at her, and his eyes seemed blank, almost uncomprehending. “It’s…it’s Lissa,” he said. “Lissa. She…”

“What? What, Jan?”

“She’s dead,” Jan said, and then he collapsed across the table, sobbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing my embellished version of Anomen's Test, I hope you enjoyed it too! Just a few more things to wrap up in town now, and then we'll be off to Spellhold.


	146. Surprise Demise

**Cards Reshuffled 146 – Surprise Demise**

_Normally, the plain methods of termination work best. After all, the more imaginative you get, the more likely it is that authorities will take an interest and give you unwanted attention. The exception, of course, is when your employer wishes to send somebody a clear message in no uncertain terms. Still, let it be their message and not your own. A professional does not leave his calling card on the scene._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

Dermin. Jaheira had a hard time believing it had come to this, but it was the truth she had to accept. Her old mentor, her friend, wanted her dead. And not only he, it seemed, for now two more people, a half-elven swordsman and a human mage, stepped out behind him. Fellow Harpers. _No, not fellow. I am no longer a Harper myself. And yet, I would have spared them if I could._

“You see, Jaheira, this cannot end well,” Dermin said. “We outnumber you. Surrender, and I swear that your end will be swift and as merciful as possible. But either way, you will die.”

Jaheira’s eyes narrowed as she gauged the distance to the man she had once called friend. Yes, she should be close enough. 

“Move one inch towards her,” Anomen growled, “and I swear by everything I hold holy that you will be sent screaming into the pits of the Nine Hells before you have time to touch her. If you even dare…”

_Yes._ The spell she had carefully prepared left her on a soft breath, a breath that turned into a faint buzz as she exhaled. The air suddenly seemed to coalesce into a dense, black cloud, a cloud that was buzzing with millions of insect wings. She noticed with some satisfaction that there were several angry bees and wasps among the flies, mosquitoes and assorted vermin. “Him,” Jaheira said, pointing at Dermin, and the insect swarm swept towards its target. She just had time to see the man’s eyes widen in startled surprise, and then she was already progressing to her next spell. She raised her arms, and a different kind of cloud formed above her head, blue-black and swirling, crackling at the edges. Jaheira brought her arms down sharply, and lightning struck the half-elven warrior, leaving him smoking and screaming on the ground. As she crouched and shifted into wolf form, she noticed that Anomen had drawn his flail and was advancing on Dermin. Both of them looked quite shocked, actually. 

_Men. All that bluster and threatening noises when there is killing that needs to be done._

She pounced on the warrior, aiming for the throat, but was swept aside by a blast of icy magic that left her frozen and shivering, with clumps of ice hanging from her fur. The wizard was back on his feet, it seemed. He would need to be dealt with first. Bear form this time, and in this new and sturdier shape she laid into the enemy. It took only one blow from a heavy paw to crush his skull like an egg and extinguish his magic for good. 

Jaheira turned around, blinking against the periodic flashes of lightning from the storm she had conjured up, and saw that Anomen had brought Dermin to his knees. _Good._ The half-elven warrior was advancing on her again, sword held low. Time to surprise him again. She quickly shifted back to her human form and brought her staff sharply up under his unprotected chin. The man dropped to the ground with a gurgling, pained noise that stopped soon enough. 

Silence. It seemed almost unnaturally dense and oppressive after the noises from the battle. As she so often did, she wondered at how something that had felt like an eternity could really only have lasted a few minutes. 

“Jahera? Are you well?”

She turned around. Anomen was upright and looking mostly unhurt, thank Silvanus for that. And there, on the ground, was Dermin. His chest was caved in, charred and burnt, where the Flail of Ages had struck it, and he was very, very dead. 

“Yes,” she said, exhaling slowly. “Yes, I am. And you?”

“A few minor wounds, nothing of any significance. Jaheira, I am sorry that I had to kill this man, I know you cared for him once.”

“Once,” she agreed. “Once. But that was then, and this is now.” She stepped closer, started to attend to his wounds. “I wish it did not have to come to this, but it did.”

“And the Harpers?”

“As I said to Dermin himself once before, if this is what the Harpers have become then I will have nothing further to do with them. I am done with them, for now.” 

He put his arm around her shoulder then, and she gladly accepted it. It felt good, close and warm, and she thought she could well get used to it. Still, one nagging thought remained, leaving her no peace. _But are they done with me?_

-*- 

“Dead?” Zaerini asked, sounding quite as shocked as she felt. “Lissa? How?” Across the table from her, Dekaras said nothing at all, but settled into a pose of intent attention. 

“Vaelag,” Jan spat, after he’d blown his nose on a big blue handkerchief decorated with yellow turnips. “That dirty son of a rabid griffin, that’s who.” He waved the letter about. “You know how Lissa went back to him, even though I warned her? Because he’d promised not to hurt her or Jaella again?” 

The bard nodded.

“Well, so much for his promise. That…that bastard didn’t wait long before he tried to abuse Jaella again, but this time Lissa came between them.” Tears welled up in his eyes again. “She managed to run, and she turned to my Ma, but it was too late, she couldn’t be saved.”

“Maybe Ano or Jaheira could…”

“No. It’s too late now, that was several days ago, Lissa’s letter only reached me now.” He folded the letter carefully, and gently tucked it into a pocket. “She asks me to look after Jaella for her, and I will, but there’s one other thing I must do first.” 

“I take it you are referring to this ‘Vaelag’ person,” Dekaras remarked. “Would I be right in thinking you intend a permanent solution to the problem he presents?”

“That you would, Vaddy,” Jan said. “Want to join in?”

The assassin nodded. “Certainly. From what Edwin has told me, it would be my pleasure. Did you have any specific method in mind?”

Jan smiled, a fierce smile that was made all the more disturbing by the tears that still glistened on his cheeks and in his beard. “Oh yes, you could say that. You could say that for sure.” His eyes gleamed with excitement as he waved his hands in the air. “A fierce horde of knife-wielding monkeys, all of them trained for combat, death incarnate with four hands each, and a tail of course, all of them descending on Vaelag, spelling his monkeyesque doom!” 

“Monkeyesque?” Zaerini mused. “Is that even a word?”

“Just one small objection,” Dekaras said. “Do you happen to own a horde of knife-wielding monkeys? Or even one knife-wielding monkey?” 

Jan sighed. “Well, not as such, no.” 

“Neither do I, as far as I know.” The assassin stuck his hands into his many pockets, rummaging around. “Knives, garotte, poisons, caltraps, rope, grappling hook, makeup…”

“Makeup?”

“For disguise purposes. But no, not a single simian to be found. Perhaps we could think of something else, yes?”

”Oh, all right,” Jan said. “Second best then.” And he went on to explain. 

“That sounds more promising,” Dekaras said when he had finished. “A more exotic method than I would choose myself, but entirely possible. Shall we decide on that, then? And would tonight be good for you?”

“Yes,” Jan said. “Tonight.” 

-*-

That evening saw a rather strange gathering outside the fine house of Vaelag, on the outskirts of the Slums. Well, not saw exactly. You wouldn’t have seen Dekaras as he didn’t wish to be seen, and since Jan was currently using a spell of Invisibility you wouldn’t have seen him either. But they were there, sure enough. Jan was levitating a very large sack, with a string tied to the end so that he could tug it along after him like a balloon. While the assassin slipped quietly over the wall, the little gnome climbed onto the bobbing sack, put a second levitation spell on it, and gently rose into the air. Dekaras was just able to catch the string as it drifted past, before it got caught in an upwind. “Where?” he whispered. 

“Upstairs,” Jan replied. “Outside his bedroom. You rig it, I’ll handle the rest.” 

Dekaras nodded. While he did find the gnome’s method a bit exotic, he was reasonably certain that it would work. In fact, it even felt oddly…suitable. 

-*-

Vaelag hadn’t been sleeping very well, the past few nights. He hadn’t meant to hit the pesky woman quite so hard, had he? It was hardly his fault that she’d insisted on getting in his way of his teaching his own child a lesson. And once she did, well, a man who wasn’t shown proper respect by his own wife wasn’t much of a man, now was he? He’d had to punish her. He just hadn’t intended for things to go this far. 

The gnome turned over in bed, kicking the sweaty and tangled sheets aside irritably. The guards paid little interest to the internal affairs of the gnomes, and certainly wouldn’t interfere now when he’d paid the proper officials to be conveniently blind and deaf. The girl though, that was another matter. His informers had let him know where she was, and where Lissa had run to only today. _Jansen. All his fault, he’ll make me look like a laughingstock._

It wasn’t that he particularly wanted Jaella back as such, she was usually just an annoyance. However, she was his just as much as Lissa had been, and he wasn’t about to let anybody else lay claim to her. No sir. Vaelag resolved to fetch her back the very next day, in chains if he had to. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could get rid of Jansen at the same time. He’d always resented that annoying twerp of a gnome, trying to lure Lissa away. 

_Vaelag…Vaelag, it’s me…_

“Huh?” Vaelag said, sitting up in bed. He felt a deep shiver running down his arms, and there were goosebumps all over his body. He knew that voice. 

_Vaelag…I have come back to you._

There was a cloud of swirling mist floating in the middle of the room, and it was becoming denser by the moment, taking a recognizable shape. Dark, sad eyes looked back at the trembling gnome from a face of mist and shadows. 

“Lissa?!” 

It was her; he would know her face anywhere, and his teeth were chattering in the chill of her presence. 

_Yes, Vaelag. It’s me, I’ve come back to you. I always came back to you, no matter what, and I always will. Every night. Forever and ever._

“No!” he implored the ghost. “You’re dead, I know you’re dead! Go away, leave me alone!”

_I can’t, not yet. There is something you must see first, something important. If you come with me, I promise I’ll go away afterwards._

“Yes, yes,” Vaelag said, climbing out of bed on trembling legs. “I’ll come, I’ll come.” The ghost glided silently across the room, towards the door, and then straight through the door. Vaelag pulled it open, and just had time to see the bearded, big-nosed face of Jan Jansen in front of him. 

“Surprise!” Jan said, grinning. 

Then, there was a rumbling sound from on top of the door, an explosion of pain in his head, and a horrible crunching sound. After that, there was nothing at all. 

“Interesting,” Dekaras said, looking at the dead gnome on the floor. Despite having most of his skull crushed, Vaelag still had enough of his face left that you could see his surprised expression. “I didn’t know turnips could become that large.”

“Old Dotsy Jansen’s prize turnip,” Jan said, gently patting the enormous blood and brain spattered vegetable. “It’s a family heirloom; we’ve kept it locked up in the Jansen Family Vault for centuries. They say she used demonic magic to grow it that large, but she always said it was all about knowing how to talk to plants in order to encourage them.” 

“I can imagine that. It’s quite hard, isn’t it?”

“Rock solid,” Jan said and proceeded to clean the blood off the giant turnip. “More or less fossilized by now. Thanks for helping me set the trap; I couldn’t have done that bit on my own.”

“You’re welcome. That was a skillful illusion, incidentally. It looked very realistic.”

“Yes…” Jan sighed. “I used to spend a lot of time thinking about what Lissa looked like, see.” He sighed again. “I hope things will turn out right. With Jaella, I mean. I’m not really used to being responsible for children. I don’t know a thing about it.”

Dekaras patted him encouragingly on the shoulder. “I think you will find,” he said, “that most of us just learn on the job. And at least I’m sure you will never run out of stories.” 

-*-

“You won’t be coming with us then?”

“Afraid not, Your Worship,” Jan said, shrugging apologetically. “You know I wanted to, but now I’ve got Jaella to think about. Got to take things careful for a bit now.” 

“Yeah, I understand that, of course,” Zaerini said, sighing. “It’s not as if it would be a great idea to drag a little kid along into perilous battles. Going to miss you though.” 

“Awww, that brings tears to this old gnome’s eyes,” the little illusionist said with a twisted grin. “Make sure to take proper notes on how you take down Irenicus, won’t you? I expect a long good storytelling session when you get back.” 

“Deal,” the half-elf said, giving him an impulsive hug. There was a bit of a lump in her throat. “Promise to take care.” 

“My word as a Jansen, of course.” He winked at her. “And you won’t lack thief skills either, Vaddy said he’d be coming along.”

“Um, yes. And then there’s Immy, of course.” _And not just them either…I really hope I’m making the right decision here._

_So do I, kitten_ , Softpaws told her. _And I’m not at all sure of it. Enemies are better off dead._

_Yoshimo isn’t an enemy – not as such. And if it works out as it should, then he’ll be free of Irenicus for good._

_Is it worth it risking your life and those of your friends for the sake of that?_

_The plan is solid, but it’s not just that. If he’s free, then he’s free to talk, don’t you see? He can tell me everything he knows about Irenicus, and I think that might be quite a lot. It could be just what we need._

The cat jumped into her arms, curling up against her shoulder. _Have it your way, kitten. But if he hurts you, I will eat his heart for breakfast._

_Uh huh. You’re a cat, you know, not a tiger. Come to think of it, I think even a tiger would have a hard time._

_For breakfast, I tell you! With cream and maybe some fresh sardines._

_Yuck._

_Sensitive tummy?_

_Sort of. I never could stand sardines._ She stood, smiling. “Now, let’s go round up the others. We have an appointment to keep down in the Slums.”

-*-

“Coo! Well, it sure is a long time since I saw you lot! Was half expecting you’d all been eaten by monsters or something.” 

“Well, we weren’t,” Rini said. “Lucky us, we get to see you again.” 

“Coo, and it is a right pleasure too!” Gaelan Bayle said, grinning somewhat nervously at her. “Now, how can I help you?”

At that, Anomen deposited three bulging leather purses on the table the thief was sitting at. “There,” he stated. “Our part of the agreement is fulfilled.” 

“Coo, so I can see, so I can see!” The man was actually rubbing his hands with joy. “Now, you’ll be dealing with the Shadow Master, Aran Linvail. Go see him at the Guild, and he’ll tell you all you need to know. There’s a secret door in the ladies’, it’ll take you right to him.” He held his hand out to the half-elf. “Here’s the key.” 

Zaerini clutched the cold metal key tightly in her hand, hard enough that it almost hurt. Such a little thing, yet so much blood shed for it and so much depended on it. _Immy…soon, I promise._ “We’ll go there at once,” she declared. “Don’t want to waste another moment.” 

“We have provisions enough,” said Jaheira. “We do need to pack our things, of course, but that is quickly done once we come back from our meeting with Linvail.” 

“Oh, joyous day!” Minsc happily proclaimed. “At last little Imoen will be free, and there will be hugs for everybody once the wicked wizards have had their proper spanking.” 

“I hope so,” Rini agreed. “I really do. Would be nice if something could go smoothly and without lots of sidetracking for once.” 

The group headed directly to the docks, apart from Dekaras who explained that he thought it would be a good idea for him to avoid the area at the moment, what with Bodhi’s spies being so numerous there. It was agreed that he would meet up with them later, and then get hold of Yoshimo. 

“Funny thing,” Rini commented as she stepped inside the thieves’ guild. “Seems almost like it was yesterday we walked in here for the first time and got sent off to see some nasty thief named ‘Mae’Var’.” She gave Edwin a fond smile. “Luckiest choice of job I ever made, that.” 

The wizard wrapped his arm around her waist, squeezing her tightly, and she could feel his warm breath against her cheek. “And a most fortunate event it was for me as well, my Hellkitten. I must have attracted the favor of some powerful divinity in order for you to fall into my lap like you did. (And speaking of that, I wouldn’t mind her on my lap very shortly.)” 

She smiled at him again, and they shared a brief but urgent kiss before moving on, following the given directions. Crowding the entire party into the ladies’ washroom proved to be something of a difficulty, and it was made worse by having to wait in a long line of impatient female thieves. 

“What kind of an idiot would put a secret entrance inside a place like this?” Jaheira said as they all finally got inside the small and rather dingy room. “Have they no idea what the lines are like to the ladies’ in any public building?”

“Maybe,” Rini said, trying to push Minsc into the narrow tunnel they had located behind a wall mirror. The tunnel had clearly been designed with agile and slender thieves in mind rather than burly warriors. “Or it could just be that the place was designed by a guy. Wouldn’t surprise me.” 

The tunnel led downwards, and eventually opened up into a moderately and sparsely lit room. There were people lounging about here and there, doing…things. Rini tried to look around as discreetly as she could and spotted a couple of dice games, a knife throwing contest, and what seemed to be a fairly well-equipped bar. Several thieves lounged on high stools, enjoying their drinks. One or two were lying on the floor, having enjoyed a few too many drinks. 

“You a new burglar, miss?” an elderly Halfling said, tugging at the hem of her cloak. He had a fringe of snowy white hair around an otherwise bald head, a face as wrinkled as an old brown apple, and twinkling eyes. “You do have the right look, if I do say so myself.”

“Me? Not exactly, I never really practiced lockpicking or that sort of thing.”

“Ah, never you worry, miss! For I am selling these patented and superbly enhanced lockpicks for only ten gold a piece, and if you don’t happen to be working you can always use them to pick your nose.” 

“She does not need any lockpicks,” Jaheira flatly stated. 

“Really? How odd, burglars always need lockpicks. What about caltrops? Or explosive potions?” He beamed happily. “Now, some people think it’s a bit too flashy, but for me it’s never failed yet. When in doubt, just set fire to something, that’s what I’ve always said. Well, unless you’re burglaring a red dragon of course.” 

Edwin blinked. “The small one’s words have some merit after all,” he said. “Of course, wizardly flames will always be infinitely superior. And as stated, none of us require any items of the sort.” 

“Come to think of it,” Rini said, “I’ll buy some basic stuff.” She turned to the others, trying to sound less tense than she felt. “For Immy, you see. She might need new things when we find her.” _If she’s still alive to use them._ She tried to shrug the thought off, but it stuck with her like a greasy film clinging to a window. “We have another errand here,” she told the Halfling when she had finished buying a ‘Basic Burglary Kit’ and hoping she hadn’t just been horribly swindled. “We’re meant to see Aran Linvail. He’s expecting us, I think.”

The Halfling paled visible. “Oh dear…you should have said so at once!” he exclaimed. “Through that tunnel – no, not that one, that one leads to the trap practice maze – and just follow it all the way through. Hurry up, you don’t want to keep him waiting!” 

The adventurers headed onwards in silence for a little while, following the tunnel. The wood of the previous walls had now been replaced by smooth rock. Though there didn’t seem to be a single soul present other than themselves, Rini still couldn’t quite shake off the unpleasant feeling that they were being closely watched. “So…” she said. “The Shadow Master, I take it he’s quite the bigwig?”

“The details of the organization are not entirely known to me,” Jaheira said in a quiet voice. “Or, indeed, to anybody but themselves. But I believe it is safe to assume that this Aran Linvail, if that is his real name, is one of their leaders, yes.”

“So, he should be quite able to help us then,” Rini mused. “Only question is, why.”

“That,” Anomen said, “I believe we are about to find out. Look.” In front of them there stood a tall wooden door, utterly plain in appearance. There were no guards whatsoever. No, scratch that. No guards that I can see. Before she could say anything, Minsc was already knocking hard on the door, the sound of his fist deafening in the oppressive silence surrounding them. 

“Hello!” the ranger cheerfully called out. “Little Rini and friends have come to visit with the naughty thieves, are there any thieves home?” 

“Silence, you fool!” Edwin hissed. “What do you think you are doing?”

“It is only right to knock on the door when you’re visiting with somebody,” Minsc said. “Of course, if they are truly evil thieves and not just naughty, Minsc will apply his boot rather than his hand, but for now the mighty berserker rage will remain caged like a poor mistreated hamster.”

“And very grateful I am to hear it,” a new voice said. A man was standing in the now open door, watching them with interest. He looked to be in his thirties or so, had blond well-groomed hair and expensive-looking though somber clothes. “Aran Linvail, pleased to make your acquaintance,” the man said, ushering them inside a luxurious room. There were thick carpets on the floor, a very wide and impressive mahogany desk, and potted plants that looked almost alive. Zaerini also couldn’t help but notice the very large and muscular men who stood on either side of the door, looking very grim and suspicious. 

“You may dispense with the nonsensical smalltalk, petty thief,” Edwin said, folding his hands inside his robe. “We have paid a great deal of money for your assistance in a certain matter, and the time has come for you to deliver on your promise.”

“How refreshingly direct!” Linvail said with a small smile. “Most people seem afraid to say such things to me, possibly due to that sad business with the horse’s head. Very well, to the point. I propose a trade of businesses.”

“We’ve already done the trade you wanted,” Rini snapped. “I want some results.” She could feel the anger rising inside, that horribly hot anger that she knew she mustn’t let out, not now. 

Linvail smiled apologetically, spreading his hands. “This is how it must go, I’m afraid,” he said. “You do a little favor for me, I do a little favor for you, all between friends as it were. I’m sorry if you feel yourselves mislead, but I can assure you that the money you have paid is being put to good use on your behalf.” 

“Most likely being spent on horseracing, cheap wine or wenching,” Edwin snorted. “Do not think to trifle with us, we will not appreciate it.” 

“Now, now,” Linvail said, still smiling. His goons did not smile though, and they seemed about ready to pounce. Rini carefully searched out her lover’s hand, squeezing it tightly. We need him, we can’t fight him. “As I said, we are already arranging your journey, but it will take some time to properly allocate the funds.” He frowned. “Also, there have arisen some…added difficulties. I’m afraid that I’m going to require your assistance on a few tasks, related to the guild war you’ve undoubtedly heard about.”

“I knew it!” Rini felt herself close to exploding by now. “It’s always ‘Run here, do that, kill this, run this errand, fetch this treasure’. And now you want us to go after Bodhi, do you?” 

The Shadow Master blinked. “You…know of this?”

“More than you think,” the bard said. “So, I think you should just cut the crap and get down to business. Immy has waited long enough.”


	147. Rini The Vampire Hunter

**Cards Reshuffled 147 – Rini The Vampire Hunter**

_Two important things I’ve noticed about vampires is that 1) They are extremely vain and 2) They have extremely bad taste in clothing. Whether this is something caused by the vampire transformation, or if they are selected due to these traits I still haven’t managed to learn._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“I see,” Dekaras said, frowning a little. “This is a most unfortunate turn of events.” 

“You could say that again,” Zaerini said, angrily raking her fingers through her red hair as she leaned her elbows against the table. The party had met up with the assassin at the Five Flagons as arranged, and she couldn’t help feeling that it would have been nice if he’d acted a bit more shocked. Not that it would have helped, but it would have made her feel better. “Oh, that Aran Linvail, I wouldn’t mind seeing him floating face down in the harbor, that’s for sure!” 

The assassin raised an eyebrow. “It could possibly be arranged, though it would be both difficult and time-consuming. A Shadowmaster tends to be quite well protected, you know. All in all, it would most likely be easier to perform whatever service he requires.” 

“Think so? Well, you haven’t heard the best yet.” The bard felt her hands clenching, nails digging into her palms as she tried to control her temper. “He wants us to go after Bodhi, that’s what he wants. Oh, we don’t have to kill her, wasn’t that nice of him? Just bloody her nose a little to make her pull out of the guild war, that’s what he said.” She grimaced. “Piece of cake, especially with Aerie right in the middle of everything.” 

“One of them would be bad enough, yes. Both at once are a serious inconvenience.”

“It is a pity there is no other ship available,” Jaheira commented. “At least none with a crew able to take us to Spellhold.”

“The wretched man did not even offer to send us any aid, apart from a mage to pry open the door to the vampire coven,” Anomen said, scowling. “True, a contingent of holy knights would be preferable to a bunch of thieves, but they could still have been some help.” 

“Hmpf,” Edwin scoffed. “As if any inferior mage can even remotely make a contribution to our cause that will rival mine. (Still, I suppose I can allow him a few menial tasks.)” 

“Minsc will be happy to mash evil vampires into blood pudding at any time his Witch says, and Boo will leap at any evil little vampire bats and gnaw their ears with vigilant hamster fury.” 

”Thanks Minsc,” Rini said, sighing. “But just waltzing into the vampire lair like that seems like suicide to me. Even if we could kill some the rest would warn Bodhi and then we’d have both her and Aerie to deal with at once.”

“And while my magical powers are certainly enough to devastate a whole flock of vampires I do not relish the idea of walking into a trap,” Edwin said. 

“In the daytime, at least the younger vampires will be asleep,” Dekaras said. “Bodhi might well awaken though, and certainly there is the danger of Aerie being up and about. Still, it is likely our best chance. I do know the layout of the tunnels, so I could take you in with a minimum of fuss.” 

The wizard frowned. “You shouldn’t be even going near that place, not with what happened before. (I could swear he has no idea how this tries my nerves.)”

“That cannot be helped, Edwin. If I take you in, you stand a better chance to neutralize the fledglings before Bodhi can stir. You do not really need to kill her in order to cripple her guild and keep your promise to Linvail, you know. The more of her followers you can remove, the longer it would take her to rival the Shadow Thieves again.” The assassin looked thoughtful for a moment. “Which reminds me – the numbers don’t add up.” 

Rini blinked. “What numbers?”

“The numbers of missing Shadow Thieves. Bodhi has turned several into vampires, yes, but there are far more missing ones.”

“Fodder?” Jaheira suggested. 

“Some of them yes, but while I was in there, I learnt that quite a few were also taken alive and never seen again, even by the vampires themselves.”

“Well,” Rini said, sighing a little. “I guess it’s a good thing they aren’t vampires, and I don’t suppose we can do anything about whatever has happened to them.” She straightened her back. “So, first thing in the morning we’re going to the Graveyard District then. Today we’ll go shopping for garlic, holy water, stakes, you name it.” She made a brief grimace. “And if anybody knows where to buy Avariel Repellant, feel free to buy some.”

-*-

At the first light of dawn, the adventurers were traversing the Graveyard District towards one of the known entrances to Bodhi’s lair. It looked as if it was going to be a fine day, clear and sunny. The tunnels below the vast cemetery were all the darker and gloomier though. Zaerini walked along as quietly as she could, acutely aware of the oppressive silence around her. Her own breathing seemed horribly loud in her ears. 

“It would seem that Bodhi has shut down most of the entrances I knew of before,” Dekaras said in a quiet voice as they entered a large cavern that Rini thought she recognized as the one before the entrance to what she thought of as the ‘Nether Scroll Tunnels’. “And the main doors are magically locked, you say?”

“That’s what Linvail said, at least,” Jaheira replied. “He said that was why he would send that mage along to assist us.” 

“Perhaps – though I wonder if he might not simply want to keep tabs on you. Edwin is perfectly capable of casting a Knock spell, after all.” 

“You are likely correct,” Anomen agreed. “Though there was no way of refusing without forcing a confrontation, I dare say.” 

The assassin nodded. “Of course. We shall have to see how much of an inconvenience he proves to be, I suppose, and adapt accordingly.” 

At the opposite end of the cavern there was a large set of double doors, carved from deep blue stone. Before them stood a rather irritable-looking young man with bright red hair, beady eyes and a deep lilac mage robe. 

“At last!” he complained. “Have you any idea how long I’ve been waiting in this miserable place?” 

“Talk to your boss about it,” Rini snapped. “It’s not as if we want to be here, you know. Now can you get that door open or not?” She felt the warm touch of Edwin’s arm encircling her waist and relaxed a little, hugging him back. 

The mage sniffed briefly. “Certainly. I, the great Morton Melvik, will perform this task with my usual aplomb and subtle expertise.” He snapped his fingers. “Bob! Open up!” There was a rumbling from the shadows behind him, and a large golem stepped out, its massive fists dragging along the stony floor. It nodded at its master, then raised its hand to land a single knock on the door. 

Boom! The door tumbled inwards, torn clean off its hinges, and a swarm of little lightning bolts struck the golem flat in the face as the magical protections went off. Bob, of course, ignored this completely. 

“There!” Morton haughtily stated. “Told you so, didn’t I?” 

“Oh, this is all right and proper!” Minsc agreed. “Always give a good solid knock on the door of evil, and then walk right in!” 

“Well,” Dekaras said, watching the empty doorway. “It did get the door open. I would, however, have preferred to settle for something a trifle more…”

“What?”

“Discreet,” the assassin said, and just then there was a loud screeching sound as a group of skeletal warriors came charging through the now open doorway. Morton didn’t even have time to scream once before a long arrow impaled him through the chest. He was dead before he even hit the floor. Released from his control, the golem rampaged on, happily smashing skeletons who chipped rather ineffectually at it with their swords. It was easy enough for the party to take them down while they were thus distracted. When the last one had been disposed of, Bob the golem whirred to a halt, staring blankly at a wall, and no amount of prodding could get him started again. As for Morton, nobody was particularly interested in getting him started again. 

“I guess we just rang the doorbell really, really loudly,” Rini said with a small sigh. “I hope these vampires are heavy sleepers, that’s all I say.” 

“But we dare not count on it,” Jaheira said. “We must proceed with the utmost caution.” 

“Really? ‘Cause I thought it would be fun for us all to form a long conga line and go dancing into Bodhi’s inner sanctum singing ‘Hello My Sunshine’.” 

The druid simply shook her head at that. “A bit more serious, if you please, child.” 

“I am serious,” Rini said, looking her friend directly in the eyes. “That’s why I have to joke, because otherwise I couldn’t stand it.” She shook her head. “Never mind, I know it sounds weird. Let’s just go in.” 

As they penetrated deeper into the vampire lair, the air seemed to grow thicker, and more stifling. There was another smell as well, underlying everything else, one that Rini knew well. Blood. And not just a little blood either. 

She had been somewhat prepared for what she would see, having heard Dekaras describe the place, but the large pool of blood in the room before her just wasn’t something you could be quite ready for no matter what. Her stomach suddenly felt bloated and tight at the same time, and she had to swallow to keep it under control. As she glanced at Edwin, she saw her lover looking rather pale, and as she reached for his hand, he squeezed it tightly. Now that did make her feel better, at least a bit. 

“Dear Helm…” Anomen whispered. “This is monstrous. What could possibly be the reason for such a wanton atrocity?”

“You’d have to ask Bodhi,” Dekaras said. “Personally, I suspect it’s for the same reason some ladies like to take milk baths.”

“How close are the vampires?” Jaheira asked. 

“The fledglings have quarters close to here,” the assassin said, pointing at one of the doors leading from the pool room. “That way.” 

“Good,” Jaheira said, tapping one of the nicely sharpened stakes they had brought against her open palm. “This place could do with some cleaning.” 

The fledglings, as it happened, turned out to be deeply asleep in their coffins. Rini felt a bit odd as she pulled the lid off of one and saw what appeared to be a pretty girl of her own age, quite ordinary in every respect. Well, except for that she wasn’t breathing. Oh, and how pale she was, and the fangs poking out over her lower lip. For a moment, the half-elf hesitated, stake raised. _No. She’d kill me if she could, and it has to be done to get to Immy. I can do it._ Inside her mind, a dark voice chuckled, then spoke with mock sympathy. 

SECOND THOUGHTS, DAUGHTER? YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO; YOU WANT HER DEATH, TO TASTE, TO SAVOR. IT WILL MAKE YOU STRONGER, YOU KNOW THAT AS WELL. 

_Maybe I do, ‘father’_ , she replied, her face twisted into a grimace of disgust. _But you know what? It’s none of your damn business!_

The stake went in so easily, as easily as a knife into soft butter, and the blood was hot, so hot against her face despite the fact that it came from a dead thing. The vampire’s eyes opened, wide and startled, and more blood gushed from her mouth, choking her scream off. Then, she crumbled, and there was only dust left, dust and blood. The voice of Bhaal gave a final, amused laugh, and was gone again. As she looked up, she saw her friends busying themselves with other coffins, looking more or less disgusted and quite preoccupied. However, Dekaras was looking right at her. There was a strange look in the assassin’s dark eyes that she couldn’t quite identify. Knowing, perhaps? Or pity? Before she had time to think about it, an amused voice interrupted her thoughts. 

“So, you have arrived. Oh good, I was beginning to get quite bored. How kind of you all to come and keep my company.” 

She turned around, and there in the doorway was Bodhi, very much awake and alert. 

Rini jumped to her feet, feeling her insides twisting with cold panic. Yes, they had killed vampires before, that was true. But Bodhi…Bodhi was different. The Vampire Queen fairly radiated dark power. Seeing her this close, one other thing was very obvious from the shape of her pale features, the slant of her dark eyes and her tapering ears. 

_Elf. Full elf._

There was no time to spend pondering this though, for Bodhi had already bared her fangs and was advancing on them, hands outstretched. Her fingers didn’t end in proper nails, but in claws. Wicked, sharp and with crusted old blood underneath them. 

Anomen was already raising his holy symbol of Helm, and his face was tense with concentration as he turned on the vampire, attempting to hold her at bay. Soft white light radiated out from the priest, but Bodhi merely paused briefly, then grinned. 

“Naughty boy,” she said. “You’re not strong enough to harm me that way.” 

“Minsc approves of holy light, but swords in unholy bellies will work just the same!” Minsc yelled, and the large man slammed into Bodhi full force. There was a brief ‘Ow’ from Bodh as they both fell against the fall of the crypt, and a spurt of black blood, but then it was Minsc flying through the air, tossed aside like a rag doll to land in a heap of old bones. He didn’t get up again. 

Bodhi’s eyes narrowed with anger as she pressed her hand against her midriff. The pale skin of her belly was coated with a thick sheen of blood, but already the gaping wound was closing. 

_Of course, vampires regenerate from most wounds. We’ve got to…_

There was a loud crackling sound, and Jaheira’s quarterstaff shifted shape in her hands, the wood flowing and warping itself. Suddenly the previously blunt ends had turned into very sharp points. The druid looked grimly satisfied as she swung her transformed weapon round and round, so fast it almost seemed to blur. Bodhi was snarling with anger, but she was forced to be more cautious now and took a few steps backwards. Then she suddenly gasped with pain, and twisted around, her claws swiping wildly through the air. Rini barely had time to see Dekaras dodging out of the way, moving almost as fast as the vampire. Before he disappeared out of sight behind an overturned coffin, she could see that he was holding a sharpened stake in each hand, one of them dripping blood. Though he must have missed the heart, Bodhi was still looking quite furious. 

“You’ll pay for that one, my pet,” she said. Her face was twisted, almost animal like in its ferocity, and right now there wasn’t anything even remotely beautiful about her. “Pay eternally.” 

_Got to do something, got to help._ Rini hesitated. She knew perfectly well that in open combat she’d be no match for Bodhi. Spells was an option, but she didn’t have anything powerful enough to actually hurt Bodhi, she knew that too. _Sod it, why didn’t I become a warrior or a wizard or something? It’s not as if I can sing vampires to death._

Edwin was right next to her, and magical energies were crackling in the air as he cast a spell, utterly absorbed in whatever he was doing. Bodhi grinned suddenly, going for the wizard, and there was no time, no time to think or fear, time only to act. 

“Hey, fang girl!” Rini yelled. “Word of advice, don’t mess with my boyfriend unless you want to wear your face inside out.” Just as she had hoped for, Bodhi was distracted, turning around to face her. She didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. She simply leapt, shifting into her cat form as she did so, and went straight for the startled wide eyes of the vampire before her. There was a slight but still audible popping sound, and her claws were digging deep, deep into what felt a bit like marmalade. 

_Don’t think, don’t think, mustn’t think about what I’m doing…_

Bodhi was screaming with pain and horror, and Rini felt herself suddenly torn loose, bits of wobbly wet tissue clinging to her claws still. While she was sure Bodhi would heal soon enough, it wouldn’t be soon enough to turn the fight. Then she was hurtled violently aside, with one single silly thought spinning through her head. _Go for the eyes girl, go for the eyes…must have been spending too much time around Boo._ She struck the wall hard, unable to suppress a scream as she fell to the ground. Every single part of her seemed to be hurting, and she was only dimly aware of the sounds of the ongoing battle around her. 

Somebody was picking her up. There were fingers running gently along her fur, smoothing it out, and the pain was lessening. Suddenly she could move her legs again, and she kicked feebly, opening her eyes to look into a pair of startling blue ones, cool and lovely like tunnels of ice. 

“Hush kitty,” Aerie said, and the transformed half-elf froze, unable to make a sound. “That’s better,” the Avariel went on. “Now, the others can’t see me, so don’t think they’ll interfere.” She half turned, then made a tutting sound. “I fear I must hurry this along, before things go too far. You really inconvenienced Bodhi there, she will be intolerable for days. Still, that is a minor setback. Now, you will listen to me, and you will do exactly what I tell you.”

Rini felt a blue, dense fog descending on her mind. Yes, she would listen, she would obey, of course she would. 

“Good. First of all, you will not remember this conversation.” The wingless elf smiled, her rosebud lips parting slightly to reveal her white teeth. “Now, for your instructions. When you next come face to face with Irenicus, you will…” 

-*-

Somebody was stroking her, fingers curling around her ear and tracing down her neck, feeling delicious against her fur. “Mwrr?” she asked, and then startled awake. _Ooops._ Shifting back to her normal form hurt a bit, but she managed it, and then she collapsed back into a pair of loving arms that held her closely and protectively. “Eddie…” she murmured, smiling a little. 

The wizard didn’t say anything, but he suddenly hugged her even more fiercely towards him, pressing her against his chest. She raised her arms as best she could, embracing him back. 

“I…thought I’d lost you,” Edwin finally said, his voice a little hoarse. “I thought…”

“I’m fine, promise,” she said, pulling his face down to kiss him. “Well, mostly. I just got knocked about a bit.” 

“Hard enough to nearly kill you,” Jaheira’s voice cut in, and as Zaerini struggled into a sitting position she found the druid giving her a stern look. “Frankly, I am amazed you weren’t hurt worse than you were – amazed and grateful.” 

“Heh, I guess Bodhi didn’t much like what I did, did she?” She blinked, looking about. “What happened? Where is Bodhi? And the others, where are they? She didn’t…” 

“They are all well,” Jaheira hastened to reassure her. “Shortly after you were knocked out it seemed Bodhi had had enough. She shouted some threat or other, turned into a puff of mist and disappeared. I saw to you, Anomen patched Minsc up, and once it was certain you would live the others went to look for Bodhi.”

“And unfortunately, didn’t find her,” Dekaras said, appearing in the doorway behind Jaheira. The druid startled for a moment, then looked mildly annoyed. “We went through all the coffins we could find,” the assassin went on, “but with no success. Wherever she may have retreated to lick her wounds – figuratively speaking I hope – it is not here.” 

“Oh well,” Rini sighed. “I’d have loved to see her in little itty bitty vampire bits, but nothing we can do about it right now I guess. At least Linvail should be happy now. We killed most of her fledglings I’d say, and we did run her off.” She grinned, managing to sit up properly at last. “And now, a nice and relaxing sea trip, and we can finally get to where Immy is.” Much as her body was still hurting, she felt ready to dance from joy. I can hardly wait. 

-*-

“But it hurts!” Bodhi almost screamed, blood still trickling down from her ruined eyes across her smooth white cheeks. Aerie found the image an interesting one – it reminded her of the pantomime performers she had seen in the circus. Of course, none of those had been nearly as difficult patients as Bodhi was. _It is always the case, isn’t it? The ones with the spikes, the tattoos, the bits of metal inserted here and there, they are the ones who break and crumble the fastest from the smallest bit of pain administered by a professional._

“Oh, do sit still,” she coolly told the vampire. “Or would you prefer me to leave you like this? I’m sure your eyes will regenerate in time, and in the meantime, you could always rely on a domesticated rat or bat to guide you.” 

“Fine,” Bodhi sulked. “Go ahead then, but don’t think I can’t still rip your throat out if you try anything you shouldn’t.” 

“Oh dear,” Aerie remarked, her fingertips gently touching the vampire’s shredded eyelids. “My poor little heart almost stops from such cruel remarks and my head gets so confused. Why, just now I nearly used positive rather than negative energy and wouldn’t that have been a big ooopsie?” 

Bodhi gulped, and then sat still and blissfully quiet, allowing Aerie to work on her in peace. Finally, it was done, and the vampire sighed with relief as she opened her beautiful eyes, so dark a blue that they were almost black. “At last,” she said, baring her fangs in a smile. “Very well done, my dear, very well done.” 

“Naturally,” Aerie said as Bodhi gave one of her golden curls an amused little tug. 

“And did the rest of it work out as we had planned?”

The Avariel smiled contentedly. “Of course it did. While you kept her friends busy, I gained access to our bad kitty and did what we had agreed on.”

Bodhi’s grin widened. “Excellent. Joneleth will be very pleased, my dear, as am I. While we do want her, we don’t want her dead, at least not yet.”

“As you wish, though I will hold you to your side of the bargain. Once you are done with her, I take the rest of her for my Mistress, and I get the ones I want from among her companions for my…personal pleasure.” 

“Now that sounds delicious,” Bodhi purred. “You must make certain to tell me all about it.” She made a sweeping gesture at the dark and rather cramped cabin they were sitting in. While it had been the best one on board, it still wasn’t what might be called luxurious. “After all, we have a sea journey of some days ahead of us. We must entertain ourselves as best we can.”

Aerie stretched herself out as comfortably as she could on the bunk bed where she had been sitting. She gave the vampire an amused look from underneath her long eyelashes. “I doubt we shall have any great difficulty with that,” she said.


	148. Cure and Commotion

**Cards Reshuffled 148 – Cure and Commotion**

_Rasheman has a rich cultural heritage, with many habits ranging from the silly, over the absurd and onwards to the disgusting and dangerous. Occasionally there is a burst of creativity and all of those traits come out at once._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

“I can hardly believe we’re finally on our way!” Zaerini exclaimed. The bard was sitting perched on a bale of rope on the deck of the Galante, the ship that Aran Linvail had commissioned to deliver her and her companions to the island of Brynnlaw. There, they would find Spellhold, and Imoen. She looked out over the open sea, enjoying the feeling of cool air, even if a fine spray of seawater made her back off a little. 

“So we are,” Dekaras said, nodding. He was standing at the railing and looking out across the sea as well, looking solemn even for him. 

“Something the matter?”

“No, not really. It is just that my last sea journey was a rather unfortunate one.”

“Oh…yeah, the Icewind Dale thing.” She shook her head. “Poor Eddie, he was so upset about all of that mess, I think he was afraid you’d never forgive him for it.” 

“Speaking of which, where is he?”

“Below decks. He said he’s got a bit of a problem with sea journeys and wanted to rest a bit while his stomach settled.” 

The assassin nodded. “I’ll go down and see what I can do in a little while. In the meantime, there is the matter of our gallant captain.” 

“Somebody called?” Saemon Havarian, the captain of the Galante, stuck his head out from a hatch, much like some little burrowing creature emerging from the ground. He was a fairly young man, thin and with mousy brown hair, and there was a perpetual smile on his face. 

“Indeed, I did,” Dekaras said, giving the other man a cool look. “I wanted to discuss with you the matter of the signals.” 

“Signals? What signals? Where? I don’t know any signals.”

“I see. Then am I to understand that you standing on deck late last night, holding up a lamp which you covered and uncovered in certain patterns was a completely random occurrence?”

“Um…well…”

“I value my peace of mind, Master Havarian, perhaps because I have so little of it. Unexplained events like the one last night disturb me greatly. Do try to preserve our current amiable relationship by not letting this happen again.” 

“Not a problem, not a problem at all,” Saemon said. He was still smiling, even though it seemed a little tense at the edges. “Not that anything did happen, but it won’t happen again.”

“Excellent. I’m glad we understand one another.”

“He’s trying to rob us, isn’t he?” Rini said in a low voice once the captain had left them. 

“Quite possibly, he is a pirate after all. I am surprised he would risk offending Aran Linvail though. Hopefully knowing that we are on to him will keep him in line, but we should all be cautious around him and his crew.” 

“Thanks,” the half-elf said, grinning. “I’ll watch out, promise.”

-*-

Jaheira was also up on deck, sitting at the prow of the ship looking ahead. There were dolphins in the water, now and then they would emerge and jump playfully along the ship. She smiled and carefully reached her mind out, touching smooth, skipping dolphin minds. Nature could frequently be misleading, but these creatures were just as happy and carefree as they appeared. _Was I ever like that, even as a mere child? I cannot remember._

“It will not be long now,” Anomen said, coming up behind her. It was a little odd to see him in just a loose shirt and breeches, out of his customary armor, but eminently sensible of course. Not even a man of his strength could swim very well in full plate. And the sight was…pleasing. 

“Not long,” she agreed. “We must set Imoen free first of course, that is the most important thing. And then…”

“And then, you will have your revenge, my lady.” His eyes were concerned, and so very caring. “Jaheira? Once it is over…could you…would you consider…”

Her throat felt suddenly dry, and she got to her feet, feeling an urge to be able to look him in the eyes properly. “Yes, Anomen?”

“To allow yourself to heal,” he said, reaching out to take her hand. “I should very much like to be there to help you do so – if you will it so.” 

Jaheira was just about to reply when a sudden wave made the ship rock, causing her to stumble. Before she could catch her balance again, Anomen had caught her in his arms, holding her steady. _A rock to withstand any storm…yes._ “I would like that,” she said, and felt herself smile back at him. “I would like that very much.” And she was reaching up, her fingers touching the warm skin of his cheek, the ticklish soft hair of his beard. _What…am I doing?_ She was pulling his face down towards her own, looking deeply into his eyes. _Khalid…I love you still._ Her lips were on his now, and his mouth was so sweet against hers. It was a gentle kiss, yet full of tender passion, and she could feel hear head spinning as she eventually broke it off. _And I…love him as well._ In her mind’s eye she could see her Khalid, her beloved. 

He was smiling. 

-*-

Edwin was curled up in a fetal position on a bunk bed he felt certain had been designed by a particularly vicious torturer. He was afraid to move very much, since it felt as if his stomach was about to emerge through his nose. A mere few hours ago he had been wondering if he was going to die. Then he had become certain he would die. Now he was hoping desperately for it, so that his suffering would end at last. He heard steps coming down the ladder from above and gave a sigh of relief. _She has come to offer me tender, loving care. Perhaps I want to live after all._

“Dying as I undoubtedly am,” he proposed, “My transition into the great hereafter would be very much eased by a loving stomach rub. (I would wish for more, but I fear I would embarrass myself by an undignified display of sickness.)”

“Boo is always happy to help the weak and poorly, even the Evil Wizard,” boomed the voice of the armored Rashemani cretin. “If you rub his soft and fuzzy tummy you will be filled with the warm and gentle goodness of Hamster Cuddling, and you’ll feel all better in no time.”

Edwin just barely had time to turn around in bed before he could feel sharp little claws running up his body. A small, whiskered face appeared right before his nose, and a pair of beady black little eyes stared directly into his.

“Take…ergh…it away, you fool,” he moaned. “Or I may just throw up on it.”

“That would be bad,” Minsc said, shaking his head. “I do have a little cup for giving Boo his baths, but he doesn’t like getting his fur soapy.” Then he grinned broadly. “Ah, but I have a better idea, my poor suffering friend!” He took out a small, brown bottle, and shook it triumphantly. Its contents hissed and sloshed about. 

“What...urk…is that?”

“This,” Minsc proudly proclaimed, “is _Drauvani_. Very good Rashemani drink, very traditional, good for putting hair on chest.” 

“I already have hair on my chest, thank you very much. And I’m certain that substance will only conspire to make me even more sick.” 

“Oh no!” Minsc said, and his eyes were wide and innocent. “That is what is so good about _Drauvani_ , it never makes you sick, only happy and strong, ferocious like a dragon.” He took a few hearty gulps from the bottle. “See? Won’t the Evil Wizard try at least a little bit?”

Well, it shouldn’t be able to make me feel worse, at least. “Oh, very well,” Edwin agreed. “But if it does make me ill, I warn you that there shall be several kinds of hellfire to pay. Indisposed as I am, I still have my full magic at my command, and all of my wits about me.” 

-*-

As Dekaras climbed down the ladder to the cabins below deck, he was startled to hear a horrible noise emerging from the depths. There was an element of howling, a component of growling, and perhaps the worst part of it was that there were definite elements of a jaunty tune in there. It was a sound the assassin recognized very well. _Oh gods. His mother tells him that he is an excellent singer at the age of five, and then nothing will convince him otherwise, including lynch mobs. And wasn’t he supposed to be ill?_

Dekaras pushed open the door to the cabin the noise was emerging from and was met with a sight that made him pause on the threshold, trying to take in what he was seeing. Edwin was in bed. That was normal enough, but the fact that he was attempting to make a handstand wasn’t. The wizard was quite flushed, but was grinning like a loon, and he was – yes, it probably had to be called singing, even if that was a generous term for it. 

“Ooooooh!” Edwin sang. “Iiiii’m...happy being King of the Creatures! I’m proud to be the Looooord of the Odd!” He waved his hand, and about a dozen or so purple and green pixies erupted from it and started dancing around him. “I like collecting things with grotesque features!” Another handwave, and a pair of cheekily grinning goblins started making cartwheels and somersaults across the floor. “It makes me feel like some Chultean god!” A cadre of white rabbits followed, watching Dekaras sadly with their little red eyes. 

“Edwin?” Dekaras tried. “What…” He turned to see a beaming Rashemani berserker perched on a small stool, hugging an ettercap that looked very insulted. “What did you do to him?”

“ _Drauvani_!” Minsc proudly proclaimed. “The Evil Wizard was all upset and sick but look how happy he is now!”

“ _Drauvani_?! Are you insane?” The assassin paused. “Never mind that, forget that I asked.”

“Oh I made my first tiger before I could speak!” Edwin sang, giggling insanely. “Conjured a bear when I was three!”

“Edwin, no! No bears! And especially no tigers!” Dekaras winced as the wizard waved his hand again and orange light erupted from it. There was a puff of smoke, and a sleepy and confused looking bear cub appeared on the floor, accompanied by a fuzzy and fat baby tiger. 

“Aaaaand now with this wicked and demonic freak, I finally have a full menagerieeeee!” Edwin started wiggling his fingers again, but this time he was cut short due to his teacher tackling him and holding him steady. Dekaras was hugely relieved to see that no demons seemed to be forthcoming. 

“Pass me that bucket,” he curtly told Minsc. “Thank you. Now, Edwin, do you know what _Drauvani_ actually means?”

“Ish it…hic…booze`?”

“It contains alcohol, yes, of the strongest kind. But what it actually and literally means is ‘Dragon Urine’. You see, the tribes of Rasheman tend to be very literal when it comes to ingesting the various components of an animal or monster for the sake of taking on its traits, and so they slay a dragon and use this large funnel in order to…”

It seemed his words had the desired effect, as Edwin bent double over the bucket, making noises that weren’t very draconic at all. As he did so, the conjured creatures started slowly dissipating. The baby bear went last, looking rather reproachful.

_Five more days_ , Dekaras thought, trying to hold the trembling wizard steady. _Five days, and then this journey will be over. Irenicus or not, I can hardly wait._

-*-

The Galante glided into harbor in a stately manner, one that belied the scruffy appearance of her crew. Zaerini stood at the prow, watching curiously as the ship approached shore. The sun had set an hour or so ago, and the black sky was sprinkled with a wealth of glittering stars. There were lights up ahead as well, glowing fires and lanterns in the port. From what she could make out in the darkness, Brynnlaw was a fairly small and rocky island, basically made up of a steep cliff with a bit of shore at the bottom. The town climbed the sides of the cliff, with terraces cropping out from the rock to give extra space. And there, far above the town…

_Spellhold. It has to be._

It was too dark to see many details, but there was definitely a vast building up there, near the top of the cliff. Unlike the rest of the island it was almost entirely dark, with but a single dull red light shining form one of the windows. The half-elf shivered and pulled her cloak closer about her. _Please let her be all right. Please._

Softpaws silently padded up to her, rubbing against her leg, and she picked the cat up, stroking the soft fur as she kept her watch. Spellhold lurked silently on its cliff, casting its shadow on all below, but the port of Brynnlaw was all the noisier. There was jaunty music drifting towards her over the water, there was drunken singing and laughter. Occasionally, there was a scream. 

“It will be well, you’ll see,” Edwin said directly behind her, wrapping his arm about her waist. “We will go in there, find your pest of a sister, and burn Irenicus to small and crispy wizard ashes. (Preferably slowly.)” He kissed the side of her neck and she couldn’t help smiling as she turned to face him. 

“You always make me feel better, Dread Wizard,” she said, and reached up to kiss his lips. His beard tickled her cheek a little, and she felt suddenly much warmer. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

“Some things cannot be overstated,” her lover said with a small grin, holding her closely. “I entirely agree with you, I love me too. Ouch!” He rubbed his thigh ruefully where she had pinched him, and then looked more serious. “I love you too, Hellkitten. And though you have told me but a little of what this Irenicus did to hurt you so, I know you have reason to be afraid. But remember, this time we are well prepared for him and know what to expect.”

“Yeah, I guess.” She turned to look across her shoulder at a dark shape sitting crouched on the deck some distance away. “I wonder about him, though.”

Edwin turned to see what she was looking at, then frowned. “Yoshimo, yes. I cannot say I trust him entirely, but he was of aid to Teacher Dekaras it seems, and he seems to have an idea that he will be useful.”

She nodded, then turned to watch the approaching Brynnlaw again. “I know. I just…hope he’s right. Somehow, I don’t think we’ll have more than one chance to get this right.”

As the party assembled on deck to prepare for disembarking, Saemon Havarian came to join them. “Well, this is it,” he said, smiling his eternal smile. “Fair Brynnlaw, as I promised, my friends. You’ll want to stay at the Vulgar Monkey, of course.”

”Why,” Edwin asked, “would we ever want to stay in a place called the Vulgar Monkey? (I think that would be enough to drive me permanently insane.)”

“Well, good sir, it is only the only inn in town, that’s why,” Saemon smiled. “I’ll have one of the lads run up and reserve rooms for you, shall I?”

“We will manage,” Jaheira curtly told him. “This is where we part ways, Master Havarian.” 

“As you say, as you say,” Saemon smiled. “Happy Journeys, and all that. Who knows, maybe we’ll meet again. Wouldn’t that be a laugh, eh?”

“Oh sure,” Rini told him as she walked over to the gangway. “A real hoot.” She looked across her shoulder at her friends. “Well, I guess this is it, guys. Let’s see what Brynnlaw is like.” 

Brynnlaw, it turned out, was a dump. The low houses made of white stone looked as if they had once been neat and clean, but now there was grime and dirt everywhere. The only reason there wasn’t heaps of refuse in the streets was probably because it was floating around the harbor, but there were still more than a few rats scurrying around in the streets. Not all the rats walked on four legs either. Rini wasn’t hugely experienced with pirates, but she felt reasonably sure that was what the small groups of men staggering about the streets were. Cutlasses seemed to be the weapon of choice, there was an abundance of eyepatches and peglegs, more than one tame parrot, and plenty of battle scars. Most of them were drunk, and the ones who weren’t were dead drunk. 

What few people weren’t pirates, seemed to be prostitutes. There was a large building near the harbor with coloured lights outside and especially loud music coming from within. Above the door was a painted sign reading ‘Lady Galvena’s Fest Hall’. A young man and a young woman stood on either side of the door, both of them attractive and wearing clothes that covered only the bare minimum of their bodies. Having first assured them that she didn’t want to buy their services, Rini was able to get directions for the Vulgar Monkey. 

“Though you’d be better off with us, love,” said the girl. “Streets are nasty this time of night.” 

Just how nasty became apparent before the adventurers had walked more than three streets away from the brothel. A group of ragged-looking men stepped around the corner, and their leader smirked unpleasantly. He was somewhat larger than the others, his cutlass a little finer, but they were still all in very basic leather armor and none of them looked exceptionally strong. 

“Well lads, look what we have here,” he said. “New goods. Get the girls, they should fetch a nice price. Kill the men if you have to, otherwise we sell them too. Charge!”

Approximately five minutes later, Rini stepped over the still smoking corpse of the slaver leader, walked around a severed head and skipped over a spreading pool of blood. “You know, I almost feel sorry for them,” she said. “But only almost.” 

“They were hardly a challenge, true,” Jaheira said. “Still, we should be cautious, there could be more of them about.”

“Good thing we don’t have to go further then,” the redhead replied, pointing up at a rather dirty sign hanging above a nearby door. It portrayed a monkey, which was entertaining itself in typical monkey fashion. Insufferable chirped happily as he saw it and immediately started mimicking the sign, refusing to stop until a rather red-faced Edwin stuffed him into his pocket. “The Vulgar Monkey,” Zaerini said. “Let’s get some rest, then see if this place looks better in the morning.” 

Come morning, Rini found out that the improvement was very slight indeed. She hadn’t slept very well, what with the noisy patrons of the inn and the lumpy straw mattress, and as she had come down for breakfast it had turned out to be a grey porridge that was as lumpy as the mattresses. Minsc was sitting at a table, noisily gulping it down, and opposite him Dekaras was sitting staring at a bowl of the pulsating grey mass, now and then poking gingerly at it with a spoon. 

“How bad is it?” the bard asked as she slid onto a bench opposite the assassin, having received an enthusiastic morning hug from Minsc. 

“I cannot say for certain,” he replied. “I haven’t dared taste it yet, I suspect it may well be a parasitic life form that will eat me alive from inside.”

Rini sniffed the porridge, then wrinkled her nose in disgust. “You know, I think you may be right. I’ll get something when I go out instead.”

“Did you have any specific plans?”

“Nah. Just want to scout the place out a bit, we need to find out what’s the best way to get into Spellhold.”

“You shouldn’t walk alone though,” Dekaras said. “While most of the pirates are probably sleeping last night’s drink off, there may be enough of them about to give you trouble. Also, there are the Cowled Wizards to consider.” 

“Come with me then? Eddie is still asleep, and probably will be for a long while yet, he was up late memorizing spells.”

“Of course,” the assassin said, nodding. “And I’m sure Minsc would like to come as well, wouldn’t you Minsc?”

“Minsc is always happy come fight for his friends, and especially for his Witch! Just point, and Minsc will fight!”

“That would be a ‘yes’,” Rini said, smiling. “Right, let’s go then, unless you want to wait for that porridge to really come alive:” 

The assassin was just about to say something when the door burst open and a wizard ran inside. He was a young man and wearing the easily recognizable grey robe and cowl of the Cowled Wizards. “You!” he exclaimed as he laid eyes on the redheaded half-elf. “The Director…you’re the one he…you must help me!” 

“Oh yeah?” she replied, putting her hand on the hilt of her sword. “Why should I help you, Cowlie?” 

“I know things,” the man stammered, and his eyes were wide and feverish. “Secret things, things you must know, about Spellhold. I can tell you, but you must help me escape first, me and Claire.”

“Claire? Who’s Claire?”

“My girlfriend. The loveliest girl in the whole world. Help us, and I’ll tell you everything I know.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Zaerini could see Dekaras slowly turning his head, watching the other patrons. There didn’t seem to be anything obvious amiss that she could see, and yet…

*Thunk* 

A crossbow-bolt embedded itself harmlessly in the wall, having whistled safely above the spot where the wizard’s head had just been. Rini spun around and saw a dwarf in nondescript grey clothes turn and jump through the magical portal that had opened in the middle of the taproom. A soft gurgling sound came from the throat of the wizard, who lay prone across the table. 

“My apologies,” Dekaras said as he hauled the young man upright by the scruff of his neck. “But there really was no time to warn you.”

“My face…” the wizard moaned, vainly trying to wipe porridge out of his eyes. “I think it’s eating my face…”

“Fear not, poor friend,” Minsc comforted him. “Boo will cleanse you with his Hamster Tongue of Purification, just you wait and see!”

“Hamster? Now wait a second, I…”

But before the stunned wizard could protest further, there was already a hungry hamster clinging to his nose, eagerly licking his face clean. There was an occasional yelp of pain as Boo’s sharp little teeth prickled skin. 

“What was that all about?” Rini asked. 

“A reasonably good assassin,” Dekaras commented. “Clearly somebody is a bit upset with our friend here.” He gave the wizard a penetrating look. “Now why would that be, I wonder? Did you perhaps come into conflict with your superiors at Spellhold?”

”No…” the wizard said with a shudder. “No, no, I wouldn’t dare that. No, it’s Galvena, of Galvena’s Fest Hall. She has my Claire, and she won’t let her go! I wanted to take Claire and run away; we want to get married you see. I suppose Galvena won’t stand for it.” He hesitated. “But I do know something you can benefit from – you want to go to Spellhold, right? Well, I know of no less than two ways to get inside. If you will only promise to help me and Claire, I will tell you all I know. It’s not as if I ever mean to go back there, not when Claire and I are together.”

“Wow,” Rini said, grinning broadly. “Would you know, I don’t even know your name yet, and I like you already.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Points for whoever recognizes the tune Edwin was singing and knows where it's from!


	149. Galvena

**Cards Reshuffled 149 – Galvena**

_Word of advice if you want to be an evil overlord, hire ascetic eunuch guards. People who don’t drink and don’t take an interest in bedroom fun are far less likely to meet with a sticky end. Above all, train them not to accept any gifts from strangers._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“So, this is it then,” Rini said, critically surveying Galvena’s Festhall. “Doesn’t look very impressive, does it?” Certainly the Festhall’s façade appeared rather rundown when seen by daylight, and the letter ‘F’ in the magically glowing sign above the door was winking on and off in an erratic manner that was giving her a headache. A man and a woman were standing on either side of the door. Both were on the young side, and neither was as young as the makeup on their faces tried to make them appear. They were both wearing clothing that made the half-elf stare in fascination as she tried to work out how it stayed on at all. 

“That may be so,” Dekaras said. “But given what we were told, I have no doubt that there will be a number of guards inside.”

“Yeah, probably.” She wondered if they should have brought Minsc along after all – but then she had wanted somebody to look after that wizard in case of further trouble. _Besides, we’re just going to have a look at the place, right?_

She hesitated for a moment, considering her options, then walked up to the blonde girl standing to the left of the doorway, the assassin silently trailing along behind her. “Hi there,” she told the girl. “I was wondering if…”

“You sure it’s me you want, love?” the girl asked, giving her a wink and a smile that seemed oddly mechanical. “Xirkon over there is always happy to entertain the girls, you know. ‘Course I do as well if you like, here at Galvena’s Festhall the customer is always right.” She smiled again, a bright smile that never reached her eyes. Then she looked Dekaras over. “Or is it you that’s wanting my service, sir? I can give you the full list of available services if you like, as well as the Extras and the Specials.”

“Specials?” the assassin asked with a blank look on his face. 

“Right you are, sir, though I’m gonna have to pop by the costume room to fetch the fake elf ears and the Inflatable Gnome for that one. Will the young lady be joining us? There’s a weekend discount for groups…”

“No, no, no,” Rini hastily said, feeling her cheeks go warm. “He doesn’t want that, and I don’t either, thanks all the same. Actually, we’re here because we’re looking for a special girl.”

“All our girls are special,” the young man to the right of the door said with that same mechanical smile. “If Amber here’s not what you want, then I’m sure we can find somebody else.” 

“We are looking for a girl named Claire,” Dekaras said. “Is she available?”

The girl went a little pale and looked down. “Claire…Claire is really busy just now, sir,” she said. “I’m sorry. But there are plenty of other girls if you…”

“We met her special friend,” Rini said. “A wizard. He seemed to think that Claire might be in trouble. That you aren’t allowed to leave.”

“Look, I can’t talk of this, I really can’t.” The girl looked nervously towards the door of the Festhall. “Are you sure you’re not interested in the group discount?”

“Positive,” Dekaras said. “We are interested in Claire though, and we mean her no harm.” 

“Actually,” Rini said in a low voice, “We’d like to get her out of here if we can. Now will you help us?”

The girl’s eyes narrowed a little and she twined a strand of her long blonde hair between her fingers. “We would all leave if we could,” she whispered. “If you swear to help us, I’ll tell you what I know of Claire.”

“Well…all right, I guess. We’ll do what we can.”

“Good enough.” The girl leant even closer, posing seductively for the benefit of any passersby. “The Madam was really mad that Claire tried to run away. She tried to have her young man killed, and she’s got Claire locked up in the cells in the basement, with guards all about. I think she means to have Claire killed too.”

“And what is the best way of gaining entry?” Dekaras quietly asked. 

“You could pretend to be customers of course, but that would get you only so far, and if the guards get onto you Claire is probably a goner.” The girls smiled, licking her lips. “I think you’d want one of the Slavemasters’ medallions, then you can go where you like. And I know just where you can get one too. You see, there’s this really nasty guy named Chremy who hangs out around the Vulgar Monkey. He’s one of them, likes to force girls into the business by threatening their families and…”

-*-

“Well, that was interesting,” Dekaras remarked a short while later, idly letting a small gold medallion marked with an engraving of a chain and a set of scales slide between his fingers. He hadn’t been gone long either, Rini thought, not more than twenty minutes or so. 

“What do you mean, ‘interesting’? Did he put up a fight?”

“Please. Of course not. No, I was referring to the reversal.”

“The what?”

“He had his heart on the right side. A rather rare anomaly, one I’ve only read about but never actually encountered. I have to admit it gave me a moment’s surprise.”

“Oh,” the bard said. “Yeah, that is pretty interesting, I suppose. Right, so we have the medallion, and one of us gets to pretend to be a Slavemaster. I think we should bring the others along as well, or at least some of them. A Slavemaster wouldn’t be bringing just one new slave along, right?”

“Good thinking and I agree entirely. There is just one small problem with that scenario, which I don’t know if you’ve considered.”

“What’s that?”

-*-

“Edwin Odesseiron is no man’s slave! No woman’s slave either, for that matter (Though my heart is certainly thoroughly enthralled by her adorable self.)”

“Minsc and Boo are free, free like the wind on the plains of Rasheman! We should simply kick in the teeth of Evil and offer up our swords for the Root Canal of Goodness!” 

“My lady, assuredly there must be some means of freeing these poor people other than resorting to base trickery?”

Rini, feeling a little overwhelmed, raised her hands to try to quiet the group down. She shot a look at Dekaras who was leaning against the wall of the room they had gathered in. The assassin simply raised an eyebrow at her in a manner that said ‘I told you so’ louder than any words. 

“Freeing those courtesans is a worthy cause,” Jaheira said, tugging a little at one of her braids. “Though I don’t much like the idea of posing as slaves ourselves.”

“I know it’s a bit of a bother,” Rini said, “but we can’t just storm the place, or they’ll probably kill Claire.” She thought of something. “Where’s what’s-his-name anyway? Her wizard boyfriend?”

“Minsc wanted to cheer the poor man up, so I gave him some _Drauvani_. He started singing a very nice and friendly song about a wizard’s staff and went asleep on the floor.” 

“Oh. Well, I suppose he’ll be all right there. Somebody has to stay behind to look after him, of course. Yoshimo, you and Anomen will do that.” 

The Kara-Turan bounty hunter didn’t reply, but simply bowed his head briefly. 

_Can you trust him with this?_ Softpaws asked. 

_I hope so. It’s either that or trust him with coming along with us so I think this is the better option. And Anomen will take guard duty seriously, you know that._

“Well, if that’s settled,” Rini said, “there’s one more thing to decide.”

“And what would that be?” Jaheira asked her. 

“Well, it’s like I said before. We have one medallion. That means one Slavemaster, and four slaves.” She grinned. “So, which ones of you think you’d look great in fake elf ears? They seem to be all the rage around here.” 

-*-

Dunbar, the bouncer on guard at the Festhall, looked the newcomers over with some surprise. “So, you are a new Slavemaster, are you?” he asked. 

“That is correct,” said the brunette half-elf who was glaring up at him with a look as if she meant to have his party package for breakfast. “Do you wish to make something of it?”

“Er..no ma’am, ‘course not. Just doing my job.” He looked at the woman’s companions. “And…and these are the pleasure slaves you’re bringing in, are they? They…uh…” The redhead looked possible enough, he supposed. As for the men…none of them really matched his idea of a pleasure slave, though he had heard Madam Galvena mention she was bringing in more exotic things to satisfy her customers’ every request. The youngest of the three, the one with the beard, looked as if he intended to be waited upon rather than perform any services. The tall fellow looked as if he might leave the customers crying in a heap on the floor. And the big one was…

“It is all as it should be,” the half-elf snapped. “He,” and she pointed at the bearded man, “is for the female customers who enjoy a bit of roleplay. You should see him do his ‘Megalomaniacal Wizard’ routine, you will almost believe him.” The young man sneered haughtily at that. 

“And the others?”

“He,” she said, pointing at the tall man in black, “is for the naughty boys and girls.”

“Temporarily naughty,” the man murmured. “Rehabilitation is such a glorious thing, is it not?”

Finally, the brunette pointed at the large, bald man with the tattoo that covered half his face. “As for him, you do not want to know, not if you wish to sleep well at night.”

Dunbar blinked. “Is…is that a hamster?” He shook his head. “You’re right, I don’t want to know. Still, whatever the customers want, right? You can all go in. Have one of the boys or girls show you around the place a bit, and don’t bother the Madam.” 

As they passed him by, he thought he could see the hamster turn and stare at him. 

_Nope. I really, really, really don’t want to know._

-*-

“Git outta here, you trash!” said one of the two brawny men standing guard by the door leading down to the basement. “No slaves allowed below.”

“Least not unless they’re due for punishment,” said the other one, leering at the group. 

Jaheira sniffed. “Very well,” she said. “I am merely acquainting my charges with the premises before they get to work. Obviously, I have no wish to cause offense.” 

“If you want them to get to work, they can fetch us a drink,” one of the guards suggested. “And I don’t mean water. Cook knows what to get.” 

“Yeah,” said the other. “The redhead can do it, and then I can teach her what’s what around this place. Just make sure she wears something skimpy.” 

Zaerini stared back at him, trying to resist the urge to incinerate him – or possibly skewer; she couldn’t quite make up her mind. _Mustn’t snap, mustn’t snap…if we attack them, they’ll sound the alarm and Claire will be dead._

“You can have her,” said the first guard, shrugging. “I want him.” And he pointed directly at Edwin, grinning. “Prime little bit of slave meat, I look forward to it. Skimpy goes for him too, by the way.” 

The Red Wizard’s eyes were nearly bulging from his sockets, and he had just opened his mouth when Dekaras clamped his hand across it, effectively silencing him. 

“You’re forgetting yourself, boy,” the assassin said in a quiet voice. “Remember where we are and why we are here.” 

Edwin blinked, then grimaced, but he nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Of course.”

“Beat it then,” said the guard on the left hand, winking at Rini. “And don’t come back until you’ve got that drink.”

“Do not worry,” Jaheira calmly said. “You will have exactly what you desire.”

-*-

“No! It is utterly out of the question; I refuse to subject myself to this humiliation!” Edwin waved his arms in the air, walking back and forth across the floor in the small room set aside for the ‘slaves’ as living quarters. It was more or less bare, apart from the beds along the walls. “I have gone along with this charade thus far, but no more!”

“Oh, indeed?” Dekaras said, cocking his head to one side as he looked up at the mage from his position on one of the beds. “I have posed as a slave myself, more than once, when it was the best means to achieve my ends. Am I to understand that the proud scion of the Odesseiron name considers himself to be above such things?”

“Yes! I mean no…not like that. I mean… (Blast it, how does he always turn these conversations around?) 

“Or is it merely that you consider your own acting skills to be inferior? I should hope not, since I am quite certain you can carry the subterfuge off.” 

“Of course I don’t! Edwin Odesseiron can outwit any low browed simian of a guard, and with ease.”

“It’ll be all right, Eddie,” Zaerini said, peeking out from behind the dressing screen stood in the corner of the room. “I’ll be there too, remember? And my costume is just as silly as yours, I’m sure. I mean, just look at this!” She stepped out from behind the screen, rolling her eyes as she did so. The wizard took one look at her, and then turned red from his neck to the tips of his ears. Dekaras’ eyes widened just noticeably, and then he pointedly looked at the ceiling. As for Minsc, he gave a small gasp, closed his eyes and put his large hand across Boo’s face. 

“Yeah, I know,” the bard said, wincing as she looked down at herself. She was wearing what basically amounted to a few golden straps across her torso, and the shimmering silk skirt she had on was transparent enough to display the diminutive golden garment that made an inadequate job of covering her bottom. _I don’t like this. I really don’t like this at all._

“Well,” Edwin finally said, clearing his throat. “I obviously cannot let you go out there alone, now can I? Very well, I will suffer through this indignity, and then there will be hell to pay for any oaf who dares try to lay a finger on you.” He disappeared behind the screen and there was a muted rustling of cloth, intermingled with colourful Thayvian curses. 

“We will not let you come to harm, child,” Jaheira said. “Our mission is important, yes, but your safety must and will come first.”

“Indeed,” Dekaras agreed, holding out a silver tray on which stood two tankards. Each one was brimful with foaming ale. “Just bring them this and make certain they drink it.” He gave her a small grin, while still somehow managing to avoid looking directly at her. “Oh, and I would really advice against tasting it yourself.” 

Rini shuddered. “Won’t so much as sniff it, you’ve got my word.” She turned around. “Eddie? Are you done?” And then she had to choke back a giggle at the sight that met her. “A…leather loincloth with a bit of red silk on?” she said. “Oh, and another bit of silk in the back, I see.”

Edwin sighed. “The indignities I go through…it is just as well we mean for there to be no witnesses. (This is not a tale I would wish to be widespread.)”

The bard smiled at him, then took a step closer to kiss him on the lips, her nearly bare body grateful for the warmth of his. “Come on then. The sooner we get this over and done with, the sooner we can get dressed.” 

“Mmm, yes…” Edwin said, looking a little dazed. “Dressed. Of course. (Not that I’d mind her remaining in that outfit, not as long as it is for my eyes only.)”

-*-

“Wow, that was quick,” Rini said a few minutes later, as she hurriedly put on the last of her clothes. “Under a minute, I’d say.”

“It is meant to be,” Dekaras absently said as he arranged the two sleeping guards against the wall, resting against each other’s shoulders. “That is one of the stronger sleeping draughts at my disposal; they will be out of it for at least two hours.”

“Good. Sort of a shame we’ve got to leave them alive though, isn’t it?”

“Regrettable, yes,” the assassin agreed. “But dead bodies tend to draw attention and raise unwanted questions. Drunken guards, while still frowned upon, cause less of an immediate panic.”

“Well, there had best not be any more below,” Edwin said, adjusting his robe. “That disgusting creature pinched me as I was serving him, I’ll have you know.”

“The Evil Wizard needn’t worry,” Minsc reassured him. “If there are any more bad men about, then Minsc will smash them all until their evilness is coming out of their ears.”

“Yes, that sums it up nicely,” Jaheira agreed. “Now come, let us see about finding this Claire.” 

Downstairs, a wide corridor branched off into several narrower ones, lined with barred cells. Zaerini peeked into the closest ones but saw no sign of life. Dirty straw, the odd overturned pitcher and some disturbing stains hinted that the cells once had been occupied though. She shivered briefly. 

_Chains…clanking back and forth, and the cold stone walls. Water dripping. And those eyes. Those blue, blue eyes._

A hand grasped hers, squeezing it, and she looked up, meeting Edwin’s concerned eyes. She managed a small smile and a nod, indicating that she could go on. Now there was a voice up ahead, a female voice, haughty and imperious. 

“You foolish little tart!” it said. “You should have known better than to try to run off. If your gallant hero isn’t wormfood already, he soon will be, and so will you.” 

“Why?” another female voice said, this one trembling and fearful. “Why are you doing this?”

“What do you think, idiot? I cannot tolerate runaways, if I allowed one, then others would follow. No, an example must be made, and that example is going to be you.” There was a brief pause. “I’d say that this was going to hurt me more than you, but I’d be telling a lie. Now, we…”

Minsc had been getting gradually redder in the face as he listened to this conversation, and now he finally reached his limit. “Raaaarrrrgh!” he roared. “Hurting of poor girl makes you the Pimple of Evil on the Nose of the World, and now Minsc will SQUEEZE!” He stormed down the corridor, there was a surprised scream, the clatter of a falling chair, and the telltale sound of a spell being chanted. 

_Well_ , Rini just had time to think. _Here goes nothing._ She threw up a protective shield as she ran, one that would block at least some magical attacks. Hopefully it would be enough. 

The Mistress Galvena was a still attractive woman in her forties, with straight reddish-brown hair and an impressively bouncy body. There was something about her eyes though that wasn’t the least bit inviting, something hard and unpleasant. She was accompanied by an elderly wizard in a blue robe, who was just turning towards one of the cells lining the walls as the adventurers burst inside the room. Inside the cell was a young woman. Claire, Zaerini supposed, though it was too dark inside the cell to see very well. The wizard raised his hand, pointing at the cell. 

_Oh no you don’t. I don’t think so._ The bard quickly chanted a spell of her own, aiming it at the shadowy figure inside the cell, and a bubble of liquid white light sprang up around the trapped woman, just before the wizard’s spell could struck. She could practically feel the magical energies crawling across the protective sphere like beetles across a window, trying and failing to get inside. _Good old Otiluke’s Resilient Sphere. That should do it for now._

The enemy wizard tried to get another spell off, but found himself incinerated, beheaded and fatally stabbed before he could get very far. What was left of his body crumpled up on the floor with a moist thump. Galvena tried to turn and run, but it was too late. Roots shot up between the cracks in the floor, entwining themselves around her ankles until she tripped and fell. She struggled to try to get on her feet again. “Don’t you dare!” she shrieked. “Don’t you dare!”

_Oh I dare. I dare._ It felt so wonderful as her sword slid between the other woman’s ribs, as easily as a knife slicing through butter. Fire was rising higher inside, the flames licking her soul. She felt herself snarl. _I dare._

“Hellkitten?” Edwin’s arms around her, holding her close. She couldn’t remember letting go of the sword, but she must have done, it was back in her scabbard. “Can you hear me?” She leant her head against her lover’s chest and gave a small sigh. 

“Uh huh. Galvena, is she dead?”

“Very much so,” Dekaras said from across the room. He was just pulling the cell door open, she noticed. “When a person’s lungs are stuck to the ceiling there is normally no need to check for vital signs.” 

Rini looked at the ceiling, then immediately wished that she hadn’t. “Oh, yuck. Did I do that?”

“Yes,” Jaheira replied. She was looking concerned, too. “You must try to control this better, child. You cannot allow Him to take control like this.”

“Minsc agrees! Berserker is berserker, and Witch is Witch. Without the calming influence of Boo, Little Rini could go all nutty and dangerous doing things like that.”

“Hey, it’s all right, I’m on top of it, no need to worry.” She pushed her hair out of her eyes, and then made a face as she noticed the blood on her fingers. “Claire?”

“Yes ma’am,” the young woman who was stepping out of the cell fearfully said. She was quite pretty but looked as if she might faint at any moment. “Please don’t kill me, ma’am.” 

“Hey, it’s all right,” the half-elf said, grinning. Claire didn’t seem especially reassured. “We’re here to rescue you, don’t you see?”

Claire blinked. “Rescue me? I had stopped hoping for that…but why? I have nothing to offer you, nothing at all.”

“That,” Edwin said, “Is of no consequence. Your lover has information we require, that he will give us in return for your rescue.” He smiled grimly. “And then, we will be paying a very special visit to a very special wizard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Situs inversus is, indeed, the complete reversal of the visceral organs, including the heart. A very rare condition that can cause some confusion if one is not prepared for it.


	150. Criminal and Insane

**Cards Reshuffled 150 – Criminal and Insane**

_Always make certain that you know well the skills of your party members, so that you can take full advantage of them. But also remember, that sometimes you may find yourself very surprised by their displays of talents you never dreamed of._

_Excerpt from 'Ruminations Of A Master Bard'_

“Wow,” Rini said, turning around to look behind her. “I wouldn't have expected it to go up quite so quickly.” The heat that struck her face forced her to take a step backwards, and she shielded her eyes against the bright glare. 

“Good riddance,” Jaheira said with a grimace of distaste. “I can think of few places more deserving of a fire.”

“You will of course note the magnificent explosive capacity of my magical forces,” Edwin said, preening proudly. “And is it not convenient how this advanced type of Fireball can be set to explode at a later moment?”

“Very,” Rini agreed, and snuck her hand into her lover's as she watched Galvena's Festhall going up in flames. He squeezed her hand tightly and bent to give her an ardent kiss. “And the slaves sure were grateful. How many times did that fat cook hug you, Dread Wizard? Ten?”

“Thirteen,” Edwin said with a brief shudder. “My ribs will never be quite the same again, I am sure.”

“I'll see if I can cheer you up later,” the bard grinned at him. “But first, let's go talk to Claire's boyfriend and see what he's got to say for himself. After all this trouble, it's got to be good.”

-*-

“So, let me summarize this,” Dekaras mused, directing a sharp look at the nervous wizard sitting before him on a wooden bench in a backroom of the Vulgar Monkey. “We need a wardstone to get into Spellhold, or we will be turned into a charming set of life size statues by the wards around the place.”

The wizard nodded nervously.

“And you, being as it were an ex-employee of Spellhold, don't have one.”

A shake of the head. 

“There is however one in town, in the possession of a quite insane and likely powerful Cowled Wizard.”

Nod nod. 

“But you don't know where he keeps it.”

Shake shake. 

“Alternatively, we could convince the local pirate lord to let us into the place.”

Nod nod nod. 

“By pretending to be mentally ill.”

Nod nod nod. 

“And we would, I presume, be relieved of all weapons and deposited in a secure cell if we succeeded in such a feat?”

Nervous nod. 

“Well,” the assassin said, “no obvious drawbacks to that plan then. I always wanted an opportunity to work my way out of a straitjacket.”

Once the grateful, if still nervous wizard had left, the adventurers sat down to talk things over. “We don't really have a clue what to expect in there,” Rini said, thoughtfully toying with a strand of her red hair. “I'd like to keep our options open.”

“Surely you cannot mean to pretend to insanity?” an incredulous Anomen asked her. “Who would believe in such a thing?”

“Minsc and Boo like games of pretending! Minsc does a very good hamster impression, or so Boo says.”

“I think we'll manage,” Rini said. “I would like a backup though, somebody on the outside in case things go wrong.” She took a deep breath. “Vadrak? Would you mind getting the wardstone off that Cowled Wizard?” 

The assassin didn't reply at once, but slowly raised an eyebrow at her. “You do understand what you are requesting, I trust?” he eventually said.

“Yes. The stone will only protect one person against the wards, the rest of us must pretend to be nutballs for the pirates. But if one person is loose on the inside of Spellhold, the rest of us have some backup at least. You're the one of us best able to escape notice in there, so I want you to get that stone and use it.”

Dekaras nodded. “I can do that,” he said. “However, I want it to be perfectly clear that I will make certain he raises no alarm about the absence of his wardstone. Making certain he is permanently incapacitated will give me a longer timeframe to work with.”

“Fine by me,” Rini said, nodding fiercely. “Whatever it takes to get Immy out of there.”

“I cannot say I like this much,” Edwin said, giving the assassin a worried look. “You will be careful, won't you?”

Dekaras gave him a surprised look. “Certainly. I always am.”

“Yes, yes, of course. (And no amount of arguing will convince him otherwise I am sure.)”

“Is this really necessary?” Anomen protested. “I do not approve of these methods at all.”

“Objection noted,” Rini curtly told him. “I respect it too, but this is one of those times when you'll just have to follow my lead if you want to follow me at all. Do you?”

The cleric looked unhappy, but after a short pause he nodded. 

“Good. In that case I think we should all get some rest now. As soon as Vadrak gets back with that wardstone, we'll be doing our best to act loony.”

Zaerini did try to follow her own advice and managed to get some sleep, but she woke up quite some time before dawn, unable to fall asleep again. Edwin was sprawled on his back next to her in the bed, his mouth slightly open and snoring quietly. She smiled, giving him a soft kiss, and slid out of bed, wrapping herself in a spare blanket as she went into the next room. It was basically a small sitting area, shared by the bedrooms on this floor, and the party had it to themselves since there were few other guests. She sat down in one of the chairs and pulled her legs up under her, Softpaws settling quietly onto her lap. 

“Trouble sleeping?”

She managed to avoid jumping but couldn't quite suppress a small gasp. “I never heard you come in. Did you get it?”

Dekaras simply held his hand out in response. A flat, grey stone, covered with circling runes, rested in his palm. 

“Right. Um...and the wizard? Did you...”

“Do you really want to know the details?” the assassin asked, with a small edge to his voice. “In my experience most people do not, preferring to keep their own hands clean.”

“Can't say that I really do, but I think I should. It only seems fair.”

His expression softened a little. “Well, I won't tell you. Suffice it to say that the wizard won't be making any complaints about his missing property any time soon, and that it should take at least a couple of days before the reason for his absence is discovered.”

She nodded solemnly. “Good. All is set for tomorrow then. And Vadrak?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

The assassin had moved into the shadows near the doors, so she couldn't see his face, but she thought she glimpsed the hint of a smile. “You are welcome,” he said. “And you will do well.”

-*-

Desharik the Pirate Lord lived in one of the larger houses of Brynnlaw, on the topmost plateau of the town. He was a rather tall, swarthy man, with an elegant goatee and a curly mustache that he frequently stroked. On his head he had an elegant black hat with a skull and crossbones symbol on it, and his left eye was covered by an eyepatch. 

“So,” he said, stroking his beard once again. “You say that you want to be committed to Spellhold?”

“That's right,” Rini said, nodding. “We're all pretty much crazy, we could do with the rest and some serious therapy.”

“Is that so?” the pirate snorted. “I'm not about to take your word for it, you're going to have to prove it.”

“Prove it?!” an incensed Edwin objected. “Who in their right mind would try to be committed into a mental asylum? (And I will try very hard not to answer my own question here.)”

“You could be lazy layabouts for all I know, doing it for the food,” Desharik said, crossing his arms across his chest. 

“For the food?! It's an asylum, not a gourmet restaurant!”

“No dice, I think,” Rini said, putting a calming hand on her lover's arm. “Seems we'll just have to prove ourselves.” She thought for a moment. “Right...I'll start then. I hear voices, well really only one voice but a very loud one.”

“Really?” Desharik said, sounding interested. “What kind of voice?”

“My dead sire.” She nodded energetically. “He used to be the God of Murder, you see, and now he's using me and my siblings in this prophecy to restore himself to life.”

“There,” Jaheira said. “Clearly the poor child is delusional, you see that do you not?”

Desharik shrugged. “Nah. Gods are mighty weird, everybody knows that. I mean, that whole Wall of the Faithless thing is nuttier than your story and that's for real.” He rubbed his hands, looking interested. “What about the rest of you?”

“Well...the one over there is a hypochondriac,” Rini tried, pointing at Yoshimo. “He thinks he's about to keel over dead any moment.”

“If he is a hypochondriac then he is only an imaginary ill person, and clearly not in any need of medical aid. Next!”

Jaheira cleared her throat, then nodded at Edwin. “That one is a pyromaniac,” she said. 

“Absolutely not!” Edwin immediately protested. “I simply happen to enjoy setting fire to things.”

“Oh, there is nothing wrong with that,” Desharik said with a magnanimous smile. “I do it quite often myself as a pirate. Loot, pillage, rape, burn. It's the order you have to get right, you see. Anyway, what about the rest of you?”

“That meddlesome female is a lycanthrope,” Edwin said with an angry look at Jaheira. “It may not be readily apparent, but she does turn into a wolf at a regular basis, complete with fangs and fur.”

“Hmm...” Desharik said, stroking his chin. “Fur, you say? A woman with unshaven legs...yes, that is a bad sign of insanity. Very, very bad.”

“What?!” Jaheira sputtered, but she quickly gathered herself, settling for a deadly glare in Edwin's direction. 

“And...er...that one is an obsessive-compulsive,” Rini said, hurriedly pointing at Anomen. “Why, just look at how shiny his armor is, and without a single dent. You can't think that's normal, can you?”

Desharik shrugged. “The man is a Helmite, as is evident from his holy symbol. “The diagnostic criteria are a tad stricter for them, I'm afraid. He would have to start wearing his underpants on his head before I classified him as insane.” He interrupted himself to give Minsc a searching look. The ranger had simply been standing there, staring happily at him with Boo in his outstretched hand ever since they entered the house. “May I help you?”

“Minsc just wants to know, where is your parrot?”

“My...my what?”

“You are a pirate, so Minsc's Witch says, and all pirates have parrots.” Minsc frowned, his eyes very large and innocent as he looked the pirate lord over. “You have an eyepatch, which is good, but you don't have a hook for a hand, or a pegleg. All pirates should have a pegleg, Boo says so.”

“Er...Boo?”

Minsc proudly held Boo up. The hamster sat up in his palm, staring intently at Desharik as it puffed its little furry cheeks out. “This is my Boo, who is very wise in all things. Boo says to say that we are Heroes of Justice, so we should help you be a proper pirate by giving you a pegleg.”

“Giving me a...”

“And a hook. The hook is very, very important, Boo says. He says that there needs to be a fearsome beast too, to make room for the hook on your arm. Boo says it should be the parrot, but if there is no parrot then any beast will do.” Minsc blinked, rubbing his ear in confusion. “Minsc does not understand it all, but Boo is always helpful to explain. Would you like him to show you? He says he'd be happy to.”

Desharik cleared his throat, his eyes moving from one of the adventurers to the next. “This...good fellow is in your company, is he? And you all...get along?”

“Famously,” Rini hastily said. She gave Minsc a quick hug. 

“Right...right...that would be a paranoid schizophrenic with violent tendencies who has incorporated his followers into a group delusion,” Desharik muttered to himself, making notes in a small notebook. “Very interesting case, very interesting.” He nodded briskly. “Ladies and gentlemen, I will be happy to transport you to the Spellhold Asylum for the Magically Deviant, as soon as humanly possible. Oh, and the hamster too. Yes, especially the hamster.”

-*-

_Later, deep within Spellhold Asylum…._

“So, here we are,” Jaheira said, looking around. “In a padded cell.”

“Well, at least it’s sort of comfy,” Rini said, patting the floor. It was, indeed, both soft and bouncy. So were the walls, and the ceiling. “I guess they were worried we’d harm ourselves otherwise, or something.”

“Harming myself is not an issue,” Edwin remarked. “I am, however, about to incinerate that hamster-worshipping idiot in about three seconds, unless he ceases his infernal racket.” 

Minsc, who was happily ignoring him, was bouncing merrily up and down on the floor, singing in a deep, slightly offkey voice. “Ooooh, 56 hamsters high on the wall, 56 fluffy hamsters! If one of those hamsters should happen to fall, 55 hamsters high on the wall!” 

Boo, who was in fact clinging on the wall, way out of reach of the curious Softpaws, hissed briefly as the next verse began, a look of desperation in his tiny black eyes. 

“It is an inspiring example of basic arithmetic, is it not?” Yoshimo said. “Tell me, Minsc, what will happen when the song runs out of hamsters? Other than our Red Wizard throwing a fit, that is.” 

“Oh, that is the best part,” Minsc said with a smile. He went on singing. “No more hamsters high on the wall, no more fluffy hamsters! Sit down on the floor and gather them all, 99 hamsters high on the wall! 99 hamsters high on the wall, 99 fluffy hamsters…”

“Gah!” Edwin spat, holding his head in his hands. “Now see what you did, you made him start over again! Why don’t you make yourself useful instead, and open that door? (Before I actually find myself in need of a padded cell.)”

“I have to agree,” Anomen said with a grimace. “It made sense to wait a little after first being brought here, but now it will hopefully be safe to move out and search for Lady Imoen.” 

“Yeah, let’s see about getting out of here,” Rini said, gathering Softpaws in her arms to get the cat away from the clinging Boo. “Yoshimo, could you?” 

But before the bounty hunter had time to so much as touch the lock, there was the rattle of keys, and the door slid silently open. Outside stood a rather officious looking gnome, wearing a white apron. He had a large keyring dangling from his belt. “All inmates out!” he called. “Exercise time is begun. Mingle as you please with the other inmates, but be warned, any violence will lead to solitary confinement. After exercise time, we will be making balloon animals in Therapy, won’t that be lovely?” 

“Not really.” Rini said. “And who might you be?”

“I am Nurse Lonk Ratched, also known as Lonk the Sane! That is because I am sane, you see, utterly, utterly sane.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“You dare be cheeky with me? Careful, or there’ll be brain zappage in Therapy rather than balloon animals, just so you know it! I demand respect! Respect and order!” Little angry sparks of lightning crackled off his fingertips. 

“Sure, respect, you got it,” the half-elf said, shrugging. She didn’t doubt that she and the others could take down the gnome easily if they had to, but that would cause a racket. Better play along until we find Immy. 

Finding Imoen, however, proved to be easier said than done. The adventurers roamed the area allowed to the inmates, but she was nowhere in sight. Here were men and women of different races, even a small child, but no Imoen. “I don’t get it,” Rini muttered, biting her lip in worry. “He said ‘all inmates out’, so why isn’t she here? Something is wrong, I know it is.” 

“We will find her,” Edwin told her, putting his arm reassuringly around her waist. “The girl is probably busy with something and will appear shortly. (Possibly doing another of her shocking and offensive artworks.)” 

“I hope so…let’s ask the other people here if they know her.” She walked over the little girl, who was sitting on the floor playing with a doll. The doll didn’t actually have a head, but the girl didn’t seem to mind. 

“Hi! I’m Dili!” she said. “Are you new?” 

“We are, child,” Jaheira said. “But what is somebody as young as you doing in this place?” 

“Oh, it’s because of what I can do,” the girl said, frowning. “I’ll show you.” There was a brief ripple in the air around her, and then she was gone, replaced by a black dog that panted happily at the surprised group. The dog disappeared, and was replaced by in turn a kitten, a chicken, and an exact replica of Zaerini herself. The bard stared in wonder into her own golden eyes. 

“Wow…” she said. “Dili, that’s a great talent you have there. I can turn into a cat, but that’s it, and I can’t do it as often as you can either.”

“Thanks!” the girl said and returned to her normal shape. She smiled for a moment, but then looked sad. “Mummy and Daddy got scared by it though…and so did everybody else. That’s why I’m here, so I won’t scare anybody.” 

“Monstrous,” Jaheira whispered under her breath. “We must bring her out of here, if we can.” 

“Of course we will,” Rini said, blinking to get rid of the tears that had suddenly welled up in her eyes. _Poor kid…her own parents did this to her, just because she was different? What beasts!_

_No Kitten_ , Softpaws told her, and then went back to washing her paw. _Humans._

Unfortunately, Dili could not tell them where to find Imoen. She knew who they meant but said she hadn’t seen her for days. “And I daren’t ask where she is,” she said, her eyes large and frightened. “The Bad People might hurt me if I do.” Who the Bad People were, she could not say, but they clearly scared her half to death. In the end, she returned to playing with her doll, humming softly to herself. 

The other inmates proved even less helpful. There was a woman with wide, glassy eyes who kept staring at nothing, yet spoke as if demons and other grotesque beings of other planes were clearly visible to her. A man who claimed to be a bard rambled on about his ‘pretties’ that were kept ‘high behind the sky’, and the vague smile on his face as he explained that he had ‘looked too far’ was quite disturbing. Then there was Tiax. 

“Tiax will smite you, unbelievers, unless you bow down to his majesty and worship the great Cyric!” The wildeyed gnome trailed along behind them, tugging eagerly at Edwin’s robe until the irritated wizard stunned him with a small electrical charge. “Blasphemers! I should have known you before, Child of Bhaal, Child of the Dethroned!”

“I’m not surprised I didn’t know you,” Rini muttered. “I meet far too many lunatics as it is, can’t be expected to remember them all, can I? I don’t suppose you’ve seen my friend Imoen, nice girl with pink hair?” 

At once Tiax shrunk back against the wall, looking fearful. “Abomination!” he called out. “Her existence challenges the Great Lord Cyric, she will suffer for it!”

“Listen, you foul little runt,” Jaheira finally snapped, lifting the gnome up by his collar until she could stare directly into his eyes. “Do you know where she is or not? If so, tell us and we will leave you be.” 

Tiax made a grimace, but he pointed down a corridor to the right. “Over that way, in Confinement. Good luck getting anything useful out of her though.” 

Rini didn’t even hear the last sentence. She had set off down the corridor before Tiax had even finished speaking, breaking into a near run as she saw it end before a closed door. “I’m coming, Immy,” She murmured to herself. “Gonna get you out of there, any second now.” Finding the door locked, she kicked at it in frustration. 

“A moment,” Yoshimo quietly said, kneeling down before the door as he fiddled with the lock. It seemed to take ages, but finally, finally the door swung open. Zaerini rushed inside, completely ignoring Yoshimo’s warning that he hadn’t checked if there were any traps about. Then she stopped suddenly, filled with horror. 

Imoen was sitting on the floor inside the cell, clutching a bundle wrapped in a piece of cloth tightly in her arms as she rocked back and forth, back and forth. Her pink hair was dirty and uncombed, and she was pale, far too pale. _She hasn’t seen the sun in so long_ , Zaerini thought, feeling a hot lump rising in her throat. _Not since before…He captured us._ Imoen slowly raised her head, but if she even saw the shocked people in front of her, she did not show it. Her blue eyes might as well have belonged on a doll, for all the emotion and reason there was in them. 

“So empty…” she said in a soft voice, never ceasing her rocking. “Empty…” 

“Immy?” Rini said, dropping to her knees to put her arms around the other girl, hugging her tightly. “Immy, it’s me.” She hugged Imoen as if she would never let her go, wanting to kick and scream and kill as she felt how cold and thin her best friend’s cheek was. _I’ll get them. I’ll get the Cowlies for doing this to her, all of them._ She half turned around, feeling tears well up in her eyes. “What did they do to her?!” 

“Hush, child,” Jaheira said, kneeling down beside her to touch Imoen’s forehead. “I will do whatever I can for her, but I must have a moment to examine her. She seems…”

“She is having some difficulty responding to her treatment,” a cold, measured voice cut in. “An unavoidable side-effect, it seems.” 

The bard quickly spun around, trying to fight down the wave of terror clutching her stomach at the sound of that voice. A man had appeared behind her friends, seemingly out of nowhere. He was dressed in the gray cowled robe of the Cowled Wizards, but the cowl had been pushed back and the face behind it was clearly visible for all to see. 

_No. Not the face, the mask, the leather mask, oh gods, no, please…_

The eyes, the icy blue eyes, sucking her in, drawing her closer. Something was rising up inside of her, delicate but strong chains wound about her mind, a malevolent seed springing into full bloom. She was only vaguely aware of her friends readying their weapons, of shouts of surprise and anger. She walked closer towards those blue, blue eyes, as she had been commanded to do, hardly noticing the spell of holding freezing Minsc and Anomen in place or the dark tendrils of magic reaching for Jaheira and Edwin. 

“Hm,” the cold voice said. “They are not incapacitated? I would have thought you would see to that. How are you still alive, Yoshimo?”

“That was not the terms of the Geas,” the bounty hunter said in a strained voice, sweat streaming down his face. “You ordered me to bring them to where you were, that was all. And so I have done.”

_But we thought he was still trapped; he’s supposed to be trapped…_

“Hm,” Irenicus said. “Yes, I suppose you have, if not quite in the manner intended. Very well, your Geas is lifted and I will release you from my service, if you so desire. We will speak more on this later. But first…” 

She was walking closer, unable to keep her feet from moving. She thought there was fighting going on still, she could hear it, could taste the flashes of magic in the air, but the blue eyes were taking her deeper. She was sinking into their icy depths, drowning. 

Cold fingers, touching her throat, and she couldn’t move at all now, even when the pain started, the freezing pain that made her want to scream. She couldn’t scream, but she was screaming inside, howling with anguish. 

“The Avariel is not without skill, it seems,” Irenicus said. “A very strong delayed Suggestion indeed, to make the creature so very submissive.” He was holding her closely towards him now and she could hear dismayed voices, calling out her name, but she couldn’t answer. “You, minions,” the masked mage said. “Cease this racket at once, or she will die.” 

And they were stopping, they were surrendering, and she couldn’t call out to them to stop. 

_Please let him kill me. Please don’t let him take me alive. Not again._


	151. Leftovers

**Cards Reshuffled 151 – Leftovers**

_Evil Overlords can be notoriously sloppy sometimes. For one thing, if they had any sense they would kill any enemies they have captured and don’t have any actual use for any longer. Of course, I’m not likely to complain._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

The asylum seemed far more deserted than he had expected it to be. True, that made it easier to move about unseen, but Dekaras still didn’t like it one bit. In such a place as this, you would expect there to be guards, not to mention wizards. He had seen neither so far, and that meant something was wrong. 

The assassin had entered Spellhold with no difficulties. The wardstone had protected him from the spells guarding the asylum, and after that it had simply been a matter of gaining entrance. Not wanting to walk in the front door he had climbed through a window instead and found himself in what had to be the lower ranking wizards’ dormitories. It was rather cramped room, with four beds in it, and one large wardrobe. A new broomstick stood leaning against the wardrobe, so polished that it gleamed, and an empty and rather smelly cage hinted that one of the young wizards in here liked to keep pet rodents. Inside the wardrobe, Dekaras found just what he had hoped for, several of the signature grey cowled robes of the Cowled Wizards. Having searched through them he eventually found one that was more or less his size, and slipped it on over his own clothes, pulling the cowl up to obscure his face. He made a rueful grimace as he stuck his hands in the pockets – clearly the wizard who owned this robe was also the rodent enthusiast. Then he pulled the door open and set out on his search. 

Spellhold was large, but the maps he had purloined while in Bodhi’s service were of some help in navigating it. He knew more or less in which direction the containment areas would be and headed directly there. Nobody attempted to stop him. In fact, he didn’t come across a single living soul, and by now it was beginning to get quite unnerving. 

A door marked ‘Great Hall’ seemed promising, since passing through there should bring him close to the inmates. He cautiously pulled the door open and slipped inside, then stopped just inside the threshold to simply stare. There were four long tables, and at the far end of the room there was a small platform with a shorter table. Cowled wizards, at least two hundred of them, sat around each of the tables, still and quiet. Each and every one of them was quite, quite dead. A few had fallen to the floor, others were slouched down limply on their chairs, and yet others had keeled over onto the tables. The assassin scanned the room rapidly, but there was no sign of anybody alive. Nor was there any blood. 

_Poison? But no, they look as if they all died more or less instantly, and at the same time. No poison could ensure that. But if not poison, then…_

“Have you seen my wand?” 

The reedy voice from close behind him made Dekaras’ hands fly instantly to two of his sharper daggers. He spun around to face the owner of the voice, only to discover that weapons would do no good here. 

The speaker was a ghost, a mostly transparent image of an elderly Cowled Wizard with a long white beard and little half-moon spectacles dangling off the tip of his long nose. It floated back and forth, wringing its spectral hands and looking quite mournful. “Dead…all dead?” it whispered. “No, he couldn’t have…” Then it seemed to notice Dekaras, and peered curiously at him. “Do I know you?” 

“Beyond a doubt,” the assassin nodded, not wanting to agitate the ghost further than necessary. 

“Oh, good. For a while there I thought…but you do remind me of somebody, I think. Or maybe it’s just the robe; we all look the same in those. Toffee?”

“No, thank you.” 

“Are you sure? They’re quite tasty…a bit insubstantial by now, perhaps. It wasn’t you who killed them, was it? My colleagues that is, not the toffee.”

“Regrettably, I am as yet incapable of making people drop dead merely by looking at them crossly. Did you not see what happened?”

The ghost hovered uncertainly, fiddling with its beard. “There is…fog in my mind. The veil has lowered.” It spun around in a small circle, then its eyes widened with shock. “He…he broke free! No, how is this possible? How could he…”

“He?” Dekaras, said sharply, feeling a sharp icicle of apprehension in the pit of his stomach. 

“The prisoner. The masked one. He killed them, he killed them all. By all the ancient arts, he is at large; the Asylum is in his hands! Listen to me, please, you must…”

But the ghost found itself speaking to empty air, for the assassin had already taken off at a run. 

A small part of him knew he should be careful, should assess the situation first. The greater part of him knew only one thing though. _They pretended to be inmates to get inside. They will have given themselves over right into his hands. Fool, I am a damned fool; I should have argued against it, should have done something…_

They could already be dead, for all he knew. The thought made him feel sick, but he fought it down, made himself focus entirely on the task at hand. _Edwin._ Wouldn’t he have felt something if the boy had come to harm, wouldn’t he have known if he had died? 

There, he had reached the containment area at last, and there were no guards posted that he could see. He made himself pause a brief moment, to catch his breath, then leaned against the door. The lock was troublesome, as if it had been worked at already, and the way his fingers were trembling didn’t help matters. _Stay calm. Have to._ That was the sane and reasonable part of him speaking, the rest of him was quite prepared to attempt breaking the door down with his bare hands if only it would get him to Edwin and the others sooner. 

Finally, at long last, the door swung open, and the assassin nearly stumbled inside, catching his balance at the last moment. Most of the cells in this particular cellblock were empty, it seemed. Yet there was one, ahead and a little to the right, where he could see somebody sitting. Somebody small and bedraggled, rocking back and forth in a monotonous rhythm. Somebody with uncombed pink hair and a lost look in her eyes. 

“Imoen?” Dekaras said, taking a step closer. _By all the Gods, what did he do to her?_

Imoen didn’t look up, didn’t even look at him in fact. She just sat there, clutching something in her arms, rocking and rocking. The assassin felt cold hatred clutching his insides at the sight of her, hatred strong enough that it even managed to compete with the horrible worry. _Irenicus. He will answer for this._ “It will be all right, Imoen,” he told the girl soothingly. “I’ve come to take you away from this place.” This lock was easier to pick than the one at the door, and it didn’t take him long to have the cell open. Imoen, who had been pressed up close by the door, nearly fell into his arms. She felt cold, and skinnier than he remembered her. 

“You…” She whispered, looking at him with deep confusion in her blue eyes. “How…no. No more dreams, no more tests! No more! Don’t do this to me you bastard, don’t pretend to be _him_ now, I can’t take that, I can’t!” She screamed suddenly, twisting free, clawing at his face. The surprised assassin let go of her, but not before she had managed to scratch his cheek open. He winced a little at the stinging pain. 

“Imoen!” he said. “Imoen, it really is me. I am not Irenicus. Let me help you, please?”

The girl hunched down again on the floor, her eyes wide and fearful. “Don’t say his name! You mustn’t say his name!”

“Imoen, I will do anything I can to keep him from hurting you again, but you must come out of there.”

She blinked. “Adahn? I thought…but I thought Rini was here too.” She laughed, a hysterical, shrill laughter. “She was here, and then she wasn’t. He took her, He took her away and I won’t ever see her again.” 

“Zaerini?” Dekaras said, feeling a tendril of dread sneaking up along his spine. “She was here? He…took her?” 

But before Imoen had time to reply, the screaming started. 

-*-

“We have to get out of here!” Edwin demanded, hearing his own voice raw and hoarse with the panic he was feeling. “We haven’t got a second to lose! Stand aside, I will blast that door open. (And then, whatever he has done to her I will repay tenfold.)” 

“No!” Jaheira shouted, grasping his shoulder tightly. “You cannot, the cell is too small, an explosion in here would kill us all.”

“Unhand me, druid! Don’t you understand, there is no telling what he could be doing to her in this very moment?”

“You think I do not know this?” She snapped back at him, and the pain in her eyes momentarily gave the wizard pause. “You think I do not know what it is to have a loved one in the hands of that fiend? Pray that you need never find out what it is like to lose somebody you love to his twisted machinations.” 

Edwin was silent for a moment. “Yes,” he said. “I…understand.”

Jaheira nodded. “Good. Now, we will do whatever we can, of course. Getting that lock open will not be easy though, seeing that Yoshimo seems to have deserted us to once again save himself. Then again, had he sided with us it is doubtful that Irenicus would have let him live.”

“Teacher Dekaras could get it open of course,” Edwin said, fiddling agitatedly with the sleeves of his robe. He had to keep his hands busy, had to do something, anything, if only to keep from going insane. “If he were here.”

“Well, he should be inside the Asylum by now, but there is no telling how long it would take for him to find us. We must seek our own way out.”

_And he could run into Irenicus_ , Edwin thought, and that thought was so horrifying that he didn’t really want to continue it. He had great faith in his teacher’s abilities, but he had also seen what Irenicus was capable of firsthand, and he knew that in an open battle the mage would have the advantage. 

“Rarrrrr!” Minsc cried, hitting the sturdy door with his shoulder over and over again. “Evil door, you cannot keep Minsc from his Witch! Minsc will smash!” Unfortunately, it seemed the door was quite strong, possibly magically reinforced, and so far it had resisted all of the ranger’s efforts. Anomen joined in to aid him, but that didn’t seem to make a huge difference either. 

_Boss?_ Insufferable had crawled onto Edwin’s shoulder and tugged gently at his earlobe. As the wizard turned his head he saw that the tiny monkey’s wrinkled face was filled with concern. _Boss, you gotta talk to the pretty kitty, she keeps trying to bite the door open and I’m afraid she’ll hurt her teeth._

Edwin looked down to see that his familiar was indeed correct. Softpaws was hunched down by the door, apparently trying to gnaw through it. As he watched the black cat sat back on her haunches, licking blood off her lips. Without thinking, he knelt down on the floor, holding his hand out to the cat. _Part of her. All I have left._ The cat looked at him doubtfully for a moment, but then silently walked closer, until he could pick her up and hold her close to his chest. The small and furry body felt warm in his arms, warm and soft. She hissed quietly but made no move to claw or bite. He stroked her slowly, down her back, trying to calm himself as much as her. 

“You know, do you not?” he told the black cat in a quiet voice. “You are her familiar, you can sense her.”

The cat looked back at him, the look in her green eyes inscrutable. 

“And you can speak to her, I know it. Tell her…will you tell her that I love her, and that we will see her free? That we will come as soon as we can?”

Softpaws purred faintly, nestling closer against his body, but then he could feel her suddenly tense up, and her fur was standing on edge until she resembled a black ball of fluff. 

_Something is wrong. He is doing something to her._

And that was when the screaming started. 

-*-

The glass tube was slick against her fingers. Her nails scraped against it as she scratched again and again, desperately trying to claw her way out. It didn’t work, of course. Part of her had known it would not, but she had to try, had to try, had to try…

He was speaking now, the masked one, cold words trickling like drop of ice into her mind. He was going to do something to her, something bad. That was no surprise. The other one was there as well, the pale woman with eyes as sharp as her fangs. And then the third one. Yoshimo stood very still, a little to the side from the others, looking pale and ill at ease. He said nothing, and he did not look her in the eyes. 

“Immy…” she croaked. “What did you do to her?”

The mage looked surprised for a moment, much as if a table or a broom had spoken to him. “Imoen was my first subject,” he calmly said. “She survived the process – perhaps you will as well.”

“Process? What process? What are you going to do to me?” 

He did not reply. Instead, he walked over to the machine that was connected to the glass tube that held her prisoner, the dark machine with the buttons and levers and little sparks of magical lightning crackling up and down the sides. She could see other tubes now, much like her own, surrounding her. There were people inside…strangers. Strangers, but they reminded her of others she had seen before. The missing Shadow Thieves. 

Then, the machine came to life, with a hiss like a waking dragon. _Edwin. I love you._ There was pain, searing all-encompassing pain. Then, there was nothing. 

-*-

The sky was dark. That was the first thing Zaerini noticed as she opened her eyes, the dark and starless sky above. _Where am I?_ She sat up slowly, looking about. _Oh Gods._ It was Candlekeep, much as she had seen it in another dream, long ago, dark and desolate. There was no sign of anybody alive, and she could not hear a single voice. But there, high above, there in one of the windows there was a single light. My old room. The pain had gone, gone as if it had never been. She stood up, and started walking towards the keep, towards the light. 

_Come to me. Find me._

The voice was a soft whisper inside her mind, but she knew it at once. 

“Immy? Immy, where are you?”

_Inside_ , Imoen’s voice whispered. _Find me, inside. You have to find me._

She walked on, towards the light, towards the voice. Still there was not a single living soul in sight. Rini frowned briefly as she crossed the courtyard. The walls…something was wrong with the walls, though she couldn’t yet tell what. Beneath her feet, the gravel made wet, squelching sounds. She looked down, and her eyes widened with horror. 

_Blood._

The entire courtyard was covered by it, slick, hot blood, here and there clotting in black lumps. It was streaming down the walls, the walls bulging oddly in familiar shapes that…

“No….”

The word sounded like the mew of a frightened kitten to her, and she stood frozen in place, looking up at her old home. Gone was wood and brick and stone, gone as if it had never been. The walls of this new Candlekeep were made from corpses, old ones and fresh ones. Humans, goblins, orcs, demons, dragons, ogres, beasts…too many different kinds to count. Some of them she couldn’t even identify, they had been too mutilated in order that they might form the proper shapes of walls, buttresses, towers and windows. The stench of rot was heavy in the air, and the glassy eyes of every single corpse seemed to stare accusingly at her. 

“Do not shy from them, little sister. They are yours, after all.”

She spun around, to see a tall, armored shape standing behind her, golden eyes so much like her own glowing beneath a horned helmet. “Sarevok?”

“Aye, little sister. Why do you fear the dead? They are the foundation of your power, as they were mine.”

Rini stared up at the corpses again, trying to count them. It was impossible to do so. “No way could I have killed that many. I mean…I might make a cottage, even a villa, but not Candlekeep.”

“It is symbolical, little sister. Perhaps they are also the ones you will slay in the future, hm?”

“Why are you here, Sarevok?”

“To observe you, little sister. You, and the other.”

“Immy…I remember now. He told me, she’s one of us too. A Bhaalspawn.”

The tall warrior frowned. “That is irrelevant. She is not the same to me as you are, and you know it. That is why I came to you, not her.”

“Well, you may not care about her, but I do. She’s in there, and I’m going in after her.”

He laughed then, a low, deep chuckle. “As you will, little sister. This is your dream, after all, not mine. I certainly wouldn’t dither as much as you do.”

“Fine, you’re the great warrior and Overlord of Evil,” the half-elf sniffed. “See you later, or not.” She marched inside the grisly castle, not looking back, but the heavy footsteps of her brother told her he was following her. _I guess he doesn’t mean to try to kill me this time. At least I don’t think he does._ She walked on, trying not to pay attention to the walls…or the floor…or the ceiling. The floor was the worst, there was no option but to walk across the corpses, treading on their gaping mouths and screaming eyes. She tried to walk as lightly as she could, but it didn’t help much. At least she knew the way by heart; she had walked it so many times that she could have walked it in her sleep. 

Finally, at long last, she reached the door to the room that had once been hers. She pulled it open, ready to fight to the death – and she stopped, staring. “Immy?”

Imoen was sitting on the bed, smiling a sad smile that tore at Zaerini’s heart. “Hi, sis. I knew you would come.”

“Of course I’d come! Are you all right? I was so worried about you, when I found you in that cell…” She hurried over to hug her sister, but Imoen just sat there, unresponsive. 

“This isn’t really me, Rini. I mean, I’m not who I seem to be.” She raised her head slowly, her eyes very clear and blue under the pink hair. “You are in danger.”

“Huh, tell me something I don’t know, would you? And if you’re not Imoen, I suppose Sarevok is really Irenicus?”

“Do not liken me to that filthy renegade elf,” Sarevok said from the door. He was leaning against the doorpost, looking quite displeased. “I am nothing like him.” He nodded at Imoen. “Nor am I like her. I am here for my own purposes.” 

“There is no time,” Imoen whispered. “He is coming.”

Rini felt a little cold tendril of dread running up her back, and she strived to keep her voice calm. This was easier said than done, given that the walls of her old room seemed to be constructed from the corpses of newborn babies. Wherever she looked, she was filled with nothing but horror. “Who? Immy, is it Irenicus?”

“You have gone within…” Imoen whispered, staring in front of herself. “We are close, as we must be. You can only fight him within.”

Now there were footsteps coming up the stairs, footsteps heavier even than those of her brother. A voice like an open sore called out from below. 

YOU CANNOT ESCAPE ME, DAUGHTER. 

_No. No, no, no, he can’t be here, it’s a nightmare, it’s another nightmare._

“Believe it, little sister,” Sarevok said. “You know our sire as well as I do. You know what you must do.”

“No, I don’t!” 

“The power, sister! The power within, it is yours! Take it, it is yours to protect yourself with.”

The door slammed open. A towering figure stood on the threshold, one that dwarfed even Sarevok. Though Zaerini was looking directly at it, she couldn’t afterwards remember any details of what it looked like. All that remained was fleeting impressions of dark armor, a sword as tall as she was, and eyes like the gates of Hell. The eyes of her sire. 

IT IS TIME! Bhaal intoned. YOU CANNOT RUN, YOU ARE EMPTY INSIDE! NOTHING REMAINS, NOTHING AT ALL. NOTHING BUT THE INSTINCT. 

“No!” Imoen cried out. “She is not alone!” 

YOU ARE NOTHING. AND WHO IS THIS? SAREVOK, MY DEAR SON. HAVE YOU COME TO BEG MY FAVOR AGAIN? 

“I will beg nothing of you,” Sarevok said, drawing his sword. “Sister…take it. This, he cannot take from you.”

Something was wakening deep inside of her, stirring like a bear coming out of its den after a long winter. She could feel the heat, rushing through her, filling her. 

_Not empty._

Now there was a sword in her hands, a long twohander, its edge running with black fire. She swung it through the air, and thought she could hear screams, far away, screams of the dying. Screams of the dead. She bared her teeth, in a laughter that was partially a snarl, and she felt herself encased, clothed in armor that fit her like a glove. It should have been heavy, far too heavy, but somehow it wasn’t. She lunged, the blade seeking her father’s heart, and she felt him falling back before her furious blows. Somewhere behind her, Sarevok was laughing. 

She was winning, she could sense it, driving him back with every blow of her sword. But it was so difficult to see all of a sudden…when had she started wearing such a heavy helmet? She could barely see out of it, between the teeth of its muzzle there was only a narrow slit. She glanced down at her arms. Black platemail, with sharp spikes jutting out here and there, and she knew that there would be no way to take it off, that she was trapped inside it now. 

“Sarevok?!” she called out. 

Her brother had drawn his sword as well, joining her in battle. Now he glanced across his shoulder, and the look in his golden eyes might even have been one of regret. 

“I am sorry, little sister,” he said: “For now, this is how it must be.”

Bhaal laughed, evaporating into black smoke, elusive and impossible to harm. 

IT IS OVER, he said. YOU FOUGHT WELL, BUT IN VAIN. 

“I’m not giving up! Never!”

But as she looked across her shoulder at Imoen, she saw the sorrow on her sister’s face, and she knew that the battle was lost. 

“I’m sorry, sis,” Imoen said, echoing Sarevok. “I wasn’t strong enough.” She faded, turning slowly translucent, ebbing away. Then, she was gone. 

“NO!” Zaerini screamed, sinking to her knees. The armor was weighing her down now, it had suddenly turned just as heavy as it should be, and she could barely move. Imoen was gone. Bhaal was gone as well. But her brother remained, holding her carefully in his arms, his eyes looking into hers, eyes that were mirrors of her own. 

“Now,” he said, “it is just you and I.”


	152. Changeling

**Cards Reshuffled 152– Changeling**

_Have you ever woken up one morning and found yourself to be somebody else? Somebody who looks like you, and speaks like you, but isn’t you, or at least not quite? I have, and I hope you need never find out what it’s like._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

_Empty. So empty._

There was a black void deep inside, where no void should have been. Reaching inside hurt, so she tried not to do it, but it was like having a bad itch somewhere, one you couldn’t help scratching. 

_Wake up. You have to wake up._

She tried to force her eyelids open, but they felt so heavy and didn’t want to move. 

_Am I dead?_

No, she was breathing, so she shouldn’t be dead then. There was something though, a soft weight on her chest. Not heavy, but soft and warm. There was something else under her head, warm and comforting, almost enough to distract her from the yawning emptiness inside. Almost. 

Her eyelids fluttered open, and she gasped briefly, trying to shut the memories out, but they kept coming, on and on. “No…”

_Kitten! You’re awake! Are you all right? No, you’re not, something is wrong, what did he do?_

The warmth on her chest was Softpaws, she realized, and her arms were wrapped around the cat, trying to draw comfort from the presence of her familiar. 

_Softy…I…I don’t know. I was in this glass tube, and then…_

She winced as more memories came back to her. Then she looked up, and she managed something that she thought at least resembled her normal smile. “Hey, Dread Wizard.” 

She was lying on her back, with her head in Edwin’s lap, and the wizard’s arms were as tightly wrapped around her as her own were around Softpaws. He was bending over her, and though this only gave her an upside-down view of his face she thought he looked rather more haggard than usual, and he had dark circles under his eyes. Now he took a deep breath of relief and hugged her even tighter than before. 

“Hellkitten,” He said. “I thought…” He broke off in mid-sentence, wordlessly rocking her back and forth. 

“Hey…” she softly said, trying to sit up, then decided that sitting would have to wait for a bit. “It’s all right…I mean, maybe not all right, but I’m alive at least. Didn’t think I would be, really. Where are we?” She tried to ignore the void inside, but it wouldn’t work, it was too vast and cold. _Is this what Immy felt?_ “Immy…where is she?” 

“We do not know,” Jaheira’s voice said, and the druid’s face appeared over Edwin’s shoulder. She was looking even more serious than usual, Zaerini thought. _I’m really in trouble, aren’t I?_ “Child, do not strain yourself. Anomen and I have been trying to determine what exactly Irenicus did to you, but we have been unable to pinpoint it so far. What I do know is that you are exhausted, and in need of healing.”

“But…”

“Imoen is not here,” Edwin hurriedly said. “After you were…after…” He made a grimace and squeezed her hand so tightly it almost hurt. “We…I…heard you scream. (Whatever that accursed pile of steaming monkey droppings did to her, I shall repay tenfold, and then I shall have him resurrected so that I might do it again.)”

“Some hours later, sleeping gas was let into our cell,” Jaheira went on. “When we awoke, we were in this place, and so were you. Of Imoen, we have seen no sign, nor of…anybody else. Hopefully that means they are well.” 

“This…place? Jaheira, where are we? And where is…Irenicus…” Rini managed to struggle into a half-sitting position, still leaning against Edwin’s chest, and then she gaped with open mouth as she looked around. 

They were in what could best be described as a vast hall, dark and gloomy. There were odd sculptures here and there along the walls, and corridors leading off into different directions. Magical barriers shimmered in front of each and every doorway though, effectively locking the adventurers in. Minsc and Anomen were sitting a short distance off, dozing, but now they both got to their feet, looking both happy and relieved. 

“Little Rini!” Minsc exclaimed. “Minsc’s Witch is alive and well, oh happiness and joy, the Evil Wizard has made her wake up with singing his lullabies!”

“Lullawhat?” Rini asked, noticing that Edwin’s cheeks had suddenly gone quite red. 

“Er…” the wizard stuttered. “I…er…”

“Group hug of warm and fuzzy goodness for all!” Minsc boomed, and suddenly the half-elf found both herself and Edwin swept up in the ranger’s strong arms until they could barely breathe. Anomen and Jaheira grinned back at her, but Softpaws squealed in protest and leapt down to the floor before she could get utterly crushed. 

“Let…go of us at once, you big oaf!” Edwin wheezed. “She could get hurt! (Not to mention that my ribs will never be the same again.)”

“Aw, it’s all right,” Rini said, patting him on the cheek with one hand, and Minsc with the other one. “Good to see you too, Minsc.”

“We are all most joyous to see you improved, my lady,” Anomen said with a smile. “I should have known you would be a match for Irenicus.”

A cold wind swept through the great hall, and tendrils of mist coalesced on top of a broken pillar, turning into a solid and all too familiar shape. “Oh, is that so?” Bodhi chuckled. The vampire queen looked much the same as when Rini had last seen her, but there was still something different about her. There was the same corpse pale skin, the same satisfied smirk, the same ridiculous strap costume, yes. What was different was a sense of new energy and purpose in her eyes, something almost resembling life. 

“Where is Imoen?” Jaheira said, her voice close to a growl. 

“Imoen, Imoen,” Bodhi scoffed, making a dismissive gesture with her clawed hand. “Who cares about that annoying little pink chit, she is used goods now.” Her fanged smile returned as she looked down at Rini. “As are you. Irenicus has had what he wants from you, and so you are of no further use to him. I, on the other hand, can at least get some amusement out of you.” She raised her hand, and the magical wards across the doorways lifted. “You will run, like the little mice you are, run through my gauntlet to amuse me. If you get to the other side, you may live, what little time you have left. And if not…” She chuckled, a darkly amused sound, and then she was gone, just a cloud of mist drifting away until she was no longer visible among the shadows. 

“What did she mean?” Edwin asked of Jaheira, his voice brittle with quiet hysteria. “What did those…what did they do to her?” He turned to Rini again, supporting her as she struggled to her feet. “How are you feeling? Are you hurting? Is there anything I can do?”

“I…don’t know what they did,” she hesitantly said. Yes, the void was still there. “My body doesn’t hurt, but there’s something wrong inside of me, I can feel it. Whatever he did to Immy, he did the same to me.”

“Can you walk?” Jaheira asked, touching her shoulder. “I hate to rush you, but I think we should move from this place. It may be exactly what Bodhi wants, but if we want to get out, we can only go forward, and I believe she may return if we remain here too long.” 

Zaerini nodded tiredly, raising a shaking hand to push a few strands of red hair out of her eyes. “I’ll try,” she said. “I think I can do it. Not like I have much choice.”

“Well, take it slowly,” Edwin told her. “Promise me you will not exert yourself needlessly.”

“Yeah, all right,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll hang back a bit, unless I really have no choice.” She gave a small gasp of surprise as her lover suddenly hugged her tightly towards him, and she felt his lips against her hair. She hugged him back, and the void suddenly felt a little less empty. Just a little, but it was something. _I love him. He loves me. We’ll make it, somehow._

And the words echoed through the empty pit inside, mocking her in their hollowness. 

The depths of Spellhold turned out to be even more of a labyrinth than Rini had suspected. She trudged along after the others, noticing little of her surroundings. There were corridors, twisting and turning, and odd contraptions to open various doors. Levers to pull, buttons to push, odd riddles to answer. Now and then there were monsters too, mostly trolls and yuan-ti. Part of her mind wondered what they were living on down here, and if the wizards ever bothered feeding them of if they mostly ate each other. Most of her was just relieved that her friends were able to deal with them without her help. 

She wasn’t sure how long they had walked, perhaps a couple of hours or so. The walls were pulsating grey masses, pressing in on her, and it was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other. 

“You can walk no further,” Edwin flatly told her. “We must rest, and we must do it now.” 

“He is correct,” Anomen agreed, after taking a look at her. “With all due respect, but I must insist.”

“And once you have rested,” Jaheira filled in, “Anomen and I will have a better look at you. Physically you seem well, apart from being worn out, but there is still something I cannot pinpoint.”

“All right, all right,” Zaerini tiredly agreed. “Whatever you say, just need some sleep first.” She wanted to believe that they could help her, that they could fix whatever was wrong. She couldn’t. All the same, resting would be good. She curled up on her side, smiling as she felt Edwin pulling her closer. Softpaws nestled into the crook of her arm, a warm little body against her own. 

_Can you fill it up, Softy?_ She asked, her mind already groggy with sleep. 

_What is that, Kitten?_ The cat responded. 

_The…hole. Need to fill…the hole._ But sleep descended upon her before she had the chance to hear her familiar’s response. 

There were shadows walking her dreams, tall shadows with fangs and claws, and they were whispering. Whispers of killing, of the sweet, sweet rending of flesh and crushing of bones, of wonderfully hot blood filing her mouth. 

There was no love, no friendship, no thought. No warmth, apart from that found in blood and quivering torn meat. 

There were no friends, no family, no remembrance. Only prey, deliciously vulnerable prey, meat to be taken. She wanted to kill, to kill and kill and never stop. 

_Who am I?_

Then she thought she woke up. Zaerini sat bolt upright, staring wildly in front of herself, feeling a horrible need twisting her insides. And there, deep in the bowels of Spellhold, her eyes lit up with fierce golden light. It was the same light that had once shone in the eyes of her brother, and it was far too late to stop what was coming. 

-*-

The vast tunnels of Candy Mountain were filled with chocolaty goodness, sprinkled with powdered sugar and bordered by lagoons of delicious fudge. The dancing unicorns, one pink, one blue, led him onward and onward to the tune of a merrily thrilling flute. They’d promised him all he ever wanted, oh yes, that and more, as soon as he could reach the deepest cavern of the mountain and…

“Edwin. Edwin, you have to wake up.” 

The startled wizard spun around, ignoring the disapproving neighing of the unicorns. There, right behind him on the polka striped path, stood a tall man dressed all in black. 

“Teacher Dekaras? What…”

“No Edwin,” the assassin said, the corner of his mouth lifting in amusement. “I am merely the part of you that’s paying some attention to your surroundings rather than blithely snoring my way into candy oblivion. (And the irony of my being a part of you in this particular form is of course greater than you will allow yourself to recognize.)”

“I don’t understand.”

“Obviously not. Then pay attention. You are in mortal peril, and you need to wake up right now. Now go.” 

Edwin wanted to ask more questions, but his mouth seemed suddenly unable to form words, there was a crushing pain in his chest, tight, so tight… The tunnels of Candy Mountain dwindled away, shrinking rapidly into a multicolored point of light as he rushed towards consciousness. The last thing he saw was the silhouette of his teacher, watching him.

_Hurry Edwin_ , the assassin’s voice whispered in his mind. _She has awakened._

“Whu…” Edwin started to say, but he couldn’t get the word out. Something was holding him tightly, very, very tightly, pressed towards a warm body. There was softness there; the softness of thick fur, but underneath that were muscles hard as steel. He craned his head backwards and choked off a scream. The…creature that was holding him in its muscular arms didn’t even look remotely human. There was a partially open mouth, with needlesharp teeth as long as his fingers, the tufted pointed ears covered with red fur, the face that was mostly feline but partially, horribly Other, and the eyes. Above and before everything else, the eyes. 

Wide, golden eyes, glowing like furnaces in the Abyss itself, and those eyes were looking down at him. A long, pink tongue darted out of the mouth, licking black lips as the creature scrutinized him. A huge paw came up to…was that fingers on the paw? One sharp claw tickled his throat curiously, pressing into his skin just hard enough to draw blood. He winced at the stinging pain, and then made himself lie absolutely still. The creature wasn’t trying to kill him yet – provoking it seemed a very bad idea indeed. 

_No. Not it. Her._

With chilling certainty he looked into the golden eyes, and he knew, he knew exactly who she was. 

“Hellkitten?” He whispered, hoping that his voice wouldn’t excite her into accidentally crushing his chest. _Though the gods know the dulcet tones of Edwin Odesseiron can have that overwhelming effect on women at times. In a good way, obviously._

She blinked in confusion and growled quietly. The claw pressed a little harder, and the stinging pain grew sharper as he felt a trickle of hot blood along his throat. How much did it take for a person to bleed to death? He hoped he wasn’t about to find out. Then she bent lower to sniff his face, and there was another kind of deep rumble inside her chest. 

_Purring. That has to be good, hasn’t it?_

“By Silvanus!” Jaheira’s voice was sharp with apprehension, and at that sound the purr turned into a sinister growl. The creature that had been his lover bounded to her feet, still clutching him tightly in her arms, and the growl ended with an angry hiss. Edwin couldn’t see very much, being held as close to her body as he was, but he could hear the voices of his companions, angry and frightened. 

“Don’t harm her!” He called out as best as he could, hoping they would be able to hear him. “Don’t…” His words were cut off as she hauled him up to sling him over her shoulder in a highly undignified way, freeing her other arm to make a wide swipe with those long and deadly claws. Edwin couldn’t see who she went for, but he could hear the scrape of claws against metal. That meant the person had to be unharmed, didn’t it? The irrelevant yet horrible thought flashed through his mind that he hoped his robes wouldn’t hitch up high enough to utterly ruin his dignity. 

_Boss!_ Insufferable’s voice was shrill inside his mind and sharp with horror. _Boss, what should I do!_

_Stay away, don’t get too close to her! She could step on you and not even notice._

_But Boss…_

_Stay away I tell you! And if you can, tell Softpaws to talk to her. She may be able to get through to her._

At this point, Edwin found himself being spun around so rapidly that his legs swung out and hit somebody in the face. There was a startled grunt of pain and he thought he could feel bone breaking. Then his transformed lover was running off with him through the tunnels, in great leaps and bounds that left the others far behind, and there was nothing he could do but hang on. He was oddly reminded of an adventure story he had read once, about a lovely girl being abducted by a giant…monkey. 

_Well, at least it could be worse, if just barely. Suffy? Can you hear me?_

_I hear you, Boss, just hang on. We’re trying to…_

“Mmmmrrrmm?” Zaerini said, cuddling him up in her arms once again. Her long, pink tongue emerged to lick his face thoroughly. 

_Of all the uses I would enjoy for her tongue; I can honestly say this is one I never thought of. And all those moronic dimwits fantasizing about cat girls ought to be taken out at dawn and flogged slowly to death with limp seaweed._

“Now see here,” he admonished. “That is not the way to treat a powerful Red Wizard, and the ‘chewtoy’ option is equally unsatisfactory. Can you understand even a word I’m saying? I want you to..no, no! Don’t do that, it tickles! (Why I am expecting her to listen to me when she never did so otherwise, I really don’t know.)” 

Suddenly, the muscular body if his captor trembled, as if she was sensing something he couldn’t. She hissed quietly, then shook her head, and she…shrunk, dwindling to a more normal size, the terrible light going out of her eyes even as the fur retracted itself. 

“Oh…yuck,” Zaerini muttered, almost to herself. “Is that _beard_ hair I’ve got in my mouth? Please don’t tell me it’s chest hair, Eddie, because I really don’t want to think about…” Her eyes went wide and suddenly frightened, and now it was he holding her tightly to his chest, wrapping her in his arms. “Eddie…oh no. I remember, I…oh gods, I could have killed you!”

“Nonsense,” he replied, making his voice as lighthearted as he could. “It takes more than an overgrown housecat to seal the fate of the magnificent Edwin Odesseiron, as you surely ought to know by now.”

She gave a small laugh that was half a sob. “Very funny. I know what I did, I remember it now. And the others…I hurt some of them. Minsc and Ano, I think, it’s all fuzzy, but I remember wanting to hurt them. I hurt you too, just playing with you. I turned into a monster and I just…I just don’t know if I can stop it from happening again.” 

And then she cried, cried with sobs that were all the more heartrending for the way she was so obviously trying to keep them in. He held her as closely as he could, held her until she had cried herself out and had subsided into weary sniffles and hiccups, just held her and stroked her hair now and then. 

“Well now,” he eventually said. “I have to say that for a monster, you were still a highly fascinating and aesthetically pleasing one. A creature of beauty, power and purpose, much as you always are.”

She looked up at that, her eyes swollen and puffy, and gave him a suspicious look. “You’re telling me that my turning into some kind of huge catwoman is somehow cute?”

“It could have been much worse, could it not? For instance, imagine if you had turned into something like a…lobster, for instance. Lobsters may be delicious to eat, but gigantic ones have very few, if any, lovable traits. (Not that I doubt that she might have managed to display some anyway.)”

Zaerini gave him a faint smile at that, and her eyes regained a little of their usual sparkle. “Really?”

“Oh, absolutely. And besides, it would be rather unfair of me to blame you for your little accident, given my own earlier…misadventure in another form.” 

She snorted at that. It wasn’t quite a laugh, but it was close enough. “You’re equating turning into a woman with turning into a ferocious, fanged creature that will bite your head off or crack your skull open if you look at it the wrong way?”

“Ah…perhaps. Occasionally. (And once I introduce her to Mother, she will need wonder no longer.)” 

Now it was a genuine smile, and his own heart made a little leap as he saw it. “Thanks, love. Just promise me, if I seem like I’m doing it again, slap a spell down on me or something. Don’t let me hurt you, or the others? Please?”

He nodded wordlessly, but inside he knew that for the first time during the conversation, he was telling her a possible lie. He would try to keep his promise, but he would not harm her. Never that. 

“Speaking of the others,” he said, clearing his throat, “do you have any idea about how to get back to them? It seemed to me that you ran quite far.”

She frowned, looking at the several doorways surrounding them. “Oh crap. I did, didn’t I? I’m so sorry, Eddie, but I’m not really sure how we got here at all, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. And I’m too far off to hear Softy properly, so I can’t even tell which direction we should go.”

Edwin’s heart sank, but he decided to put a brave face on it. “No reason to worry, the superlative navigating skills of Edwin Odesseiron are here to guide us.” He got to his feet, then held his hand out to pull her up as well. “Let me see…yes, I thi…know we should be going this way.” He headed towards the doorway he had chosen, but then froze. There was the sound of something approaching out of the darkness, something shuffling slowly but determinedly closer and closer. Now he could just barely make out a shadowy, hunched over form emerging from the tunnel. It was broad and bulging, and it seemed to have two heads. 

“Not one step closer,” he threatened. “Or I will send a fireball glowing with the incandescent fury of a thousand burning suns down your ugly and misshapen maw, spawn of darkness!”

“Well,” a dry voice said from out of the shadows. “Not quite the greeting I had been hoping for, but the ‘spawn of darkness’ bit has a certain ring to it. If you are quite finished with the intimidation act, perhaps you could give me a hand?”

“Teacher Dekaras!” Edwin said, feeling a sudden, warm wave of relief wash over him. Yes, now everything will be all right. It was replaced with a sharp stab of worry, as the assassin emerged from the tunnel and it became clear that he was wounded. There was a long gash running down his side, still wet with blood, and he was walking rather unsteadily. This was not helped by the fact that he was supporting, or rather dragging, somebody who was barely capable of walking on her own. A pale, bedraggled girl, with blank eyes and dusty pink hair. 

_Imoen._


	153. Karmariffic!

**Cards Reshuffled 153 – Karmariffic!**

_Adventurers seem to get more than their fair share of both good and bad luck. For every time you find yourself in a city about to be invaded by a hobgoblin horde, you’ll find a nice new sword named the ‘Hobgoblin Hacker’. For every time you get lost in a dragon’s den, you’ll have a random encounter with a friendly demigod, and so on. At least, that’s the theory. Of course, there are some horrors that never really could be compensated for, like being forced to listen through an entire reading of ‘Groped By Dracoliches’ by Droolina Perky._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“I fear I have been unable to rouse her further,” Dekaras said, carefully shifting his grip on Imoen to maneuver her into a more comfortable position. “Whatever Irenicus did to her, it still affects her. Hopefully the healers can do more for her than I could.” He gave Zaerini a searching look. “And what of you? I must admit, I feared the worst.”

The half-elf hesitated a moment, unsure how to begin. _Not with the ‘I got turned into a giant catgirl’ part at least._ “Um…” she said. “I’m all right…sort of.”

“You most certainly aren’t!” Edwin interrupted. “That lunatic in the leather mask had you in his power, and whatever he did to you it was enough to turn you into a giant catgirl! (The purring was pleasant, but I could have done without the claws and teeth.)”

Dekaras raised an eyebrow at that. “A giant catgirl? Edwin, are you quite certain you haven’t been ingesting any substances you shouldn’t have? The Rashemani berserkers are fond of using mysterious mushrooms; I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d brought some along.”

“I’m afraid he’s right,” Rini said, feeling her cheeks go a little hot. “Irenicus did something to me, all right. I don’t know what, but it’s like…there’s a part of me missing, a part that was always there.”

The assassin gave her a sharp look. “Missing? Can you tell…what part?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. I’m still me, got my memories and all, but something’s wrong. And something got out…Bhaal, I guess. It’s like there’s barely anything holding the Bhaal part of me back anymore. I think that’s what triggered the change.”

She looked back and forth between the two men, trying to decide which one looked more concerned. It wasn’t an easy call; they could practically have been mirror images of worry. 

“We need to get you back to the others,” Edwin flatly stated. “The healers need to see you, without further delay.”

Dekaras nodded. “I agree,” he said. “This sounds quite serious.” He propped up Imoen in a somewhat steadier position against his shoulder. The pink-haired girl sighed; closing her eyes, but otherwise did not respond. “I want them to examine you as soon as possible, both of you.”

“And you too,” Edwin interjected, pointing at his teacher’s wounded side. “What is that, if I may ask?”

The assassin shrugged. “I had a bit of a disagreement with a troll,” he said. “Their capacity to regenerate themselves is quite enviable, is it not?” The wizard just sighed, and then muttered something to himself that Rini couldn’t quite make out. “But yes, we should get going. Where are the others?”

“Ah…” Rini said, feeling herself blushing a bit more. “That’s the other problem. See, we’re just a bit…”

-*-

“Lost?!” Anomen shouted. “How can they be lost? There is a druid as well as a ranger present, both supposedly adept at tracking!”

“That may be so,” Jaheira snapped. “But tracking through woodland is quite different from trying to track somebody on a stone floor. There isn’t even any dust in these corridors.”

“Oh, Minsc has an idea!” Minsc said, clapping his hands. “Doggies can track with their noses, so if you turn into one, you can find Minsc’s Witch and the Evil Wizard, quick as anything, and Boo will help too.” The hamster sniffed, then blew its cheeks out and cuddled up on the ranger’s shoulder. 

“You are quite right, my friend,” Jaheira said, feeling a warm wave of relief. _To need to have my own skills pointed out to me by Minsc – that child really is capable of making me go out of my head with worry._

She concentrated, focusing inside, and let the sense of the wolf take her over, gently but surely. Running on four paws, strong jaws made for biting and grasping, keen ears, thick fur to protect against the cold and above all, a highly sensitive nose. Jaheira sniffed the ground carefully. Zaerini’s smell was there of course, and Edwin’s, intermingled with the hot, penetrating smell of the creature. She trotted off down one of the corridors, the men trailing after her. 

“I am sorry,” Anomen said to her in a low voice as they walked along. “I did not mean to sound harsh; I am just greatly worried about what could have happened.”

Jaheira looked up at him, nodded, and then touched his hand with her nose, trying to reassure him. _We will find them. We must._

For a while, all went well. The trail was quite clear, and easy to follow, and they managed to keep a good pace. Then, the trouble started. Jaheira had been walking along, as fast as she dared without risking losing the trail, and so focused was she on what her nose was telling her that she barely had time to stop before bumping her head against the wall that suddenly stood in her way. She leapt back with a brief yelp, and then looked up. Yes, there was definitely a wall there, blocking her path. A dead end. But…

“Did you lose the trail?” Anomen asked, scratching worriedly at his beard. “I suppose if we go back to the last turn…”

“I did not lose the trail,” Jaheira interrupted him, shifting back to her normal form in order to be able to speak. “It is quite clear.”

“But…”

“The trail leads into this passage, and it does not stop. It leads under this wall.”

Minsc nodded: “Boo agrees. His keen hamster nose never lies. Maybe tells little fibs sometimes in order to get sweets, but never lies.” 

“There could be a secret door, I suppose,” Anomen mused, tapping on the wall. It sounded quite solid though. 

“Perhaps,” Jaheira said. Yet she could not stop the sense of growing unease inside of her. Something was very wrong here. “A shame we have nobody with us skilled in finding such things. I think we would be better off going back and trying to find our way around it. I should be able to pick up the trail at a later point.”

The others agreed, and they started tracing their way back. Then, not having gone very far, they stopped. “I may be mistaken,” Jaheira said, frowning. “But was there not supposed to be a corridor leading back north here, towards the entrance hall?”

“There was,” Anomen agreed. “It was there only a few minutes ago, when last we passed.”

Yet now it was gone, a smooth stone wall standing in its place as if it had never been there. Two other corridors opened up in its place, both of them leading deeper into Spellhold. 

“I think,” Jaheira slowly said, “that the others may not be the only ones in trouble.” 

There was nothing else for it than to keep walking and hope they wouldn’t run into something they couldn’t handle. Jaheira shifted back to wolf shape again and tried to make certain that they’d head in at least more or less the right direction. That was easier said than done though, for Spellhold seemed to have taken on a life of its own and was apparently determined not to allow them to wander freely. Eventually they reached a large hall, with lit torches along the walls and a podium at the far end. On top of the podium a single, oblong object rested, one that made Jaheira’s stomach tighten with apprehension. 

“A coffin,” Anomen said, sounding no more pleased than she felt. “Do you think this is Bodhi’s resting place?”

“It would surprise me,” Jaheira answered once she had turned back to her normal shape. “Bodhi seems to prefer to surround herself with followers, and this place is quite solitary and unguarded. Still, we should find out. If that creature is inside, I will see her dealt with.” She marched over to the coffin, determined to do whatever needed to be done. _Bodhi will pay for her actions, just as well as her brother._ Her fingers touched the smooth wood, but before she could lift it, it slid easily aside. She froze in motion, staring down at the terrifying, nightmarish creature that rested inside the coffin. 

_Dear Silvanus, what is that…that thing? Surely it must have been spawned in a twisted dimension of utter filth and madness?_

“Peace, dudes,” said the vampire that was lying inside the coffin, looking calmly up at the adventurers through his long, tangled and incredibly dirty hair. In fact, the entire vampire was incredibly dirty, enough that you couldn’t even tell the original colour of his hair or skin. He was wearing a long tunic of uniformly muddy brown, and as he sat up his took out a long pipe and carefully lit it up. “Want some weed, dudes? It’s really groovy.”

“Who…are you?” Anomen asked in carefully measured tones. 

“I’m Neil, man. Neil the Druid. Sure you don’t want some weed?”

“A vampiric druid?” Jaheira asked. “How could a servant of nature have ended up thus? Minsc, don’t touch that pipeweed, you don’t know where it has been.” 

“Bit of a long story,” the vampire said. “See, I was like with this adventuring party…totally groovy…but anyway, they totally didn’t like my pacifistic ways. I mean, killing is, like, wrong, right?”

“Wrong right?” Minsc said, his face blank. 

“Like totally not cool, dude. Totally square. So, I made sure to just use harmless, useless spells, so we wouldn’t kill anything. Well, harmless to the poor monsters anyway, our rogue got a bit upset with that spider swarm I summoned. Like, how was I supposed to know the poor little buggers would bite anybody standing where I summoned them? Well more lying down I guess, what with the entangling roots I used first…kid that age shouldn’t know such words. They didn’t like me healing the monsters either…or snorting up that Dust of Disappearance we found…like, what is so bad about a transparent nose, dudes?”

“So, you deliberately sabotaged your own party members?” Anomen said, frowning. 

“Right on, dude. But only harmlessly and pacifistically, of course. I guess they got upset.”

“Oh really?” Jaheira asked. 

“Yeah. I, like, noticed it towards the end of the adventure, when the crazy Drow, and the sorceress totally killed me with their bare hands and teeth while the others cheered them on. Hey, I thought ‘Kill the Druid’ was just a cool new battlecry, bit far out. I sensed a lot of anger in them…wonder if it was because I got half the group thrown in jail?”

“The stinky man is like a wind from the deepest armpits of Rasheman!” Minsc exclaimed, protectively clutching Boo towards his chest. “Poor Boo, his sensitive nose is twitching in pain!” 

“So, I died,” the druid Neil went on, “and there was, like, this way cool tunnel of light and love and peace and happiness, even better than weed. Then a vampire found me on the compost heap where the jailor had thrown me, and I got turned.”

“A vampire actually chose to bite your neck?!” Jaheira said and had to bite back her revulsion at the thought of lips, anybody’s lips, touching that grimy neck. 

“Sure thing, dude. Don’t be a square, free love is the druid way and the vampire way.”

“That is preposterous!”

Neil shrugged. “Whatever, man. Anyway, he totally bit me, and here I am. The wizards who used to run the place hired me. They wanted me to guide the poor nutters to inner peace, in case they ever got far enough towards enlightenment to find me.”

“Quite,” Anomen said. “And can you guide us out of this place entirely, perhaps?”

“Totally, dude. But only if you get rid of that nasty piece of work first, that Bodhi chick.” Neil made a grimace, displaying rotting, yellowish fangs. The whiff of smell wafting from him made Jaheira’s eyes tear up. “She’s, like, totally trashing this place with her uncool vibes and bad karma. The Path of Inner Wisdom won’t open up before she leaves. But when she’s gone, you can just read the magic mantra, and poof you’re gone.” 

“Mantra?” Jaheira said. 

“Weed, dude. Just that. ‘Weed’.” The dirty vampire yawned, then lay down in his coffin again. “Peace out, dudes. Try not to harm the vampire chick, that’d be totally uncool.” He reached an arm up and pulled the lid back on. Within moments, there was deep snoring coming from inside the coffin. 

“Ooooh, oooh, do we get to go fight the naughty evil vampires now?” Minsc asked, clapping his hands. “Boo says he is getting bored, his little whiskers long to be dipped in the blood of the unjust!” 

“Hopefully soon enough,” Jaheira said. “But first, I think I’d like to dip my nose in a vat of acid. Anything to get rid of that smell…”

-*-

“Well, this is a bit of a bother,” Dekaras said, once again readjusting his grip around the semi-comatose Imoen’s waist. He was looking rather more pale than normal, Zaerini noticed, and she had a nasty suspicion that his wounded side hadn’t stopped bleeding yet. 

“I’m really sorry,” she said, biting her lip nervously. “I was totally out of my head when I turned into that…thing. I have no idea which way I ran. The others could be anywhere.” 

“It probably wouldn’t have made much of a difference anyway,” the assassin replied. “I am fairly certain that the doors leading out from this room went in different directions when I last passed through here. It seems we are well and truly lost.” Imoen gave a small sigh, her eyes still closed, and he patted her reassuringly on the arm. 

“Regrettably, my masterful magic does not lend itself to spells of paltry Divination,” Edwin stated, stroking his beard. “Hellkitten, could you…”

“Oh, so it’s fine for me to be ‘paltry’ is it?” Rini replied, briefly sticking her tongue out at her lover. “I could read the cards I suppose, but they’re usually more general, not that exact. Right, let me try something else then, might even work.” She carefully recited the spell, not exactly sure what to expect. This was one she’d only picked up fairly recently, and she hadn’t really tried it out yet. In fact, she’d all but forgotten about it. Suddenly, a row of brightly blinking dots appeared on the floor of the corridor before her, and there was a faint, tinkly tune in her ears. “Wow…” she said. “Can you see that? Those little yellow dot things? They look kind of yummy, good enough to eat…” 

Both the men looked at her as if she’d suddenly gone insane. 

“I see no dots,” Edwin said in a very careful voice. “Perhaps you ought to lie down for a moment, you have been under a lot of stress lately.” 

“Nor do I see any,” Dekaras said. “Are you…”

But Zaerini didn’t hear what he was saying. The dots were filling her mind, and she knew, just knew, that they would lead her where she wanted to go. She stepped over onto the closest one, and with a small ‘blip’ it disappeared under her feet. “Perfect!” she exclaimed. “Now we can tell where we’ve been or not. Look, even if you can’t see them, I can, so just trust me all right?” She set off down the corridor, more dots blipping away and disappearing. Her companions looked at each other, shrugged, but then followed her without further argument. 

“More dots…” she murmured to herself. “Come on, I want more dots…”

Then there was something else, something at the edge of her peripheral vision. A stylized purple shape, floating along the right corridor wall, slightly behind her. It didn’t have many features, but it did have angry eyes and sharp teeth. “Not to the right,” she absently said. “Monsters there.” She turned sharply left instead, increasing her pace a little. Now there was another monster shape, this one red, directly ahead. “Crap,” she muttered. “Not that way, we’ll get killed. Um, let’s see…we could go…or else…”

But there was no time to think, no time to choose. The walls were closing in, herding her forward, and the monster shapes seemed to be moving faster and faster, while she could only go so fast. The last thing she saw before the spell faded was a red, a blue and a purple monster shape, approaching from around the corner. “Wait!” she called out. “We’ve got to…”

“Well, hello there, little mice,” Bodhi said, her voice bubbling with malicious mirth. “So good of you to drop in.” The vampire queen was standing not ten feet ahead of the adventurers, flanked by two other vampires. Together, they were well and truly blocking the way. “I see you have misplaced some of your friends along the way, Child of Bhaal,” Bodhi said, still in that light, mocking tone. “Perhaps I will go find them later. Oh, but I see you’ve picked up a couple of new strays instead.” She gave Dekaras a considering look, then licked her lips, smiling. “Ah, thank you, my lovely pet. I see you have been so good as to open a vein or two already, and I so look forward to finishing what we started.” Her eyes drifted over to Imoen. “And little Imoen…I would thank you too if I thought you could actually understand me. Your soul is quite…delicious. So innocent and pink on the outside, but with darkness hidden within, and that glorious strength of Bhaal. Joneleth was right, I feel revived by it already.” 

_Imoen. Bhaal. Sister._

Rini could feel her lips drawing upwards in a silent growl, and there was a heat burning through her body, gradually scattering all reason. She glanced over at Imoen, limp and blank faced, all her life and sparkle seemingly sucked out of her. 

_They will pay._

She felt it coming, like a vast wave towering over a beach, threatening to sweep away everything there was of her. She didn’t care. The heat was growing, and it was coming faster now. She felt herself crouching down, face contorted in a snarl. Bodhi took a step backwards, and there was the tiniest hint of uncertainty in her eyes. 

_Kill her. Slay her. Slay them ALL!_

She was slightly more aware of herself this time than the time before. A quick glance at the three humans behind her reassured her that they were safe, and not a threat. In fact, they were pack, weren’t they? Yes, that was it. They were pack, and the pack was threatened, threatened by the white-cold sharp-smelling ones right in front of her. A growl rose deep in her belly, and she could feel the fur along her back standing on edge. 

“By all the gods!” Bodhi gasped, her eyes wide. “How did this…Child of Bhaal, what have you become?” The vampire raised her hands, claws out, but then apparently thought better of it. “Away, children!” she called out to her two followers. “We leave at once, Irenicus must learn of this!” As one, they shrunk and took off, three small shapes darting away on swift batwings. 

Robbed of her prey, Rini growled again, this time with frustration. It would have been such a wonderful fight, claws out, hissing and spitting and biting and tearing, but the white one had turned tail and run. It was all deeply, deeply unfair, and she wasn’t happy at all about it. She made a complaining ‘Mrowr’ noise, and then sat down on her haunches, glaring after the fleeing vampires. Then there was a hand, touching her shoulder, stroking it gently, and she looked around, straight into the eyes of one of the humans. 

_Edwin…_

With a quiet sigh she came back to herself, fur and claws melting away, and she sagged into the waiting arms of her lover, leaning back against his chest. She didn’t feel hurt, but she was too tired to move, or even to speak. Still, at least Bodhi was gone. For now. 

“I see your tale wasn’t exaggerated,” Dekaras said, looking thoughtfully at her. “Can you walk, do you think?”

“Does she have to?” Edwin protested. “She is exhausted, she needs rest.” 

“Normally I would agree, but we really don’t want to be here if Bodhi comes back with her brother. I can see no other option open to us than to keep moving.” 

“He’s right,” Rini said, struggling to her feet, leaning on Edwin’s arm as she did so. “We don’t have a choice. We’ve got to…” And she broke off, leaning her head to one side as she listened for the faint sound she had just heard. “Somebody’s coming,” she whispered. “All right, there’s no time to run, we’ve got to fight. Right, let’s see…so when they come through the door I go left, you two go right, disabling spells up at all times, interrupt their casters if they’ve got any and hit them like you mean it. Questions?”

“Why, yes,” Dekaras said in a mild voice. “Would it be acceptable if I simply asked them to toss a few healing spells our way?” 

“Oh,” the bard said, feeling her cheeks heat a little as she saw who had just come through the door. “Hi guys.”

“There you are, child,” Jaheira said. “Now, why don’t you sit down and let me have a look at you while you tell me what has been happening here.” 

-*-

A very brief explanation later, Jaheira had been convinced that any complex examination would have to wait until later, though she didn’t exactly look happy about it. Having only paused briefly to deal with Dekaras’ wound, the group set off into the labyrinth once again, eager to put as much distance between themselves and Bodhi as possible. Finally, Anomen stopped. 

“I believe this would be a good time to try it,” he said, turning to Jaheira. 

“Try what?” Zaerini asked. 

“Nothing,” the druid said in a short voice. “Just some foolishness, that is all.”

“He did say that it would only work after Bodhi had left the area,” Anomen insisted, mildly but firmly. 

“Who said that what would work?” Edwin asked. “And can I expect any explanation marginally resembling sanity?”

“A very dirty vampire druid,” Jaheira muttered. “Oh, very well, I suppose it cannot harm.” She cleared her throat, and then addressed the wall in front of her. “Weed.” There was a low hum, and a shimmering blue magical portal opened in front of the surprised adventurers, leading into the unknown. 

“I think,” Rini said very slowly, “We’re not the only ones who have some storytelling to do.” 

There seemed to be no better option available than to take their chances with the portal. With Bodhi and perhaps Irenicus about to turn up any moment, and being as thoroughly lost as they were, they really didn’t have any place else to go. All the same, Zaerini felt the little hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge as she walked through, and she doubted the was the only one. Stepping into the complete unknown was unnerving at best, deadly at worst. Fortunately, they portal didn’t open up into a firey pit, or the middle of a mountain or bottom of an ocean. Instead, they found themselves in an empty room. The room was a perfect cube, its walls as smooth and silk and as blue as the deep sea. There were no visible windows, or doors. Not even the entrance portal, for that had disappeared as soon as the last person had walked through it. 

_Oh, just great. We might be safe from Bodhi, but now we’re trapped instead._

**So you have come as far as this** , a calm male voice said, seemingly from inside the very walls. **Then you have walked some short distance along the Path of Enlightenment and are closer to sanity. If you wish to be released from the facility, you must take the test. When you are ready, touch the red crystal. If you wish to be returned to the safety of your cells, then touch the blue crystal and an orderly will be with you shortly.**

There was a faint, humming sound, and two foot-long crystals rose out of the floor, one blue, one red. 

“The ‘Path of Enlightenment’?” Jaheira said, her voice incredulous. “The password to get here was ‘Weed’! How does that in any way prove insight or sanity?” 

Anomen smiled faintly at her. “Expecting reason or sanity from the builders of this institution seems a futile task, Jaheira. It can only lead to frustration. Perhaps we should instead focus on aiding our injured friends?”

“Yes, you are right. Child, will you help Imoen, and then sit on the ground next to me? I wish to do a proper examination of you both.”

Rini just nodded wearily, and did as she had been asked, hugging the listless Imoen close to her. Her best friend…her sister…simply sat there, like a ragdoll, not responding. The bard didn’t doubt that Jaheira would do whatever she could. She was also quite sure that it wouldn’t help much. Nothing would, until they got back what had been taken from them. She stared ahead, almost as blankly as Imoen, watching the two crystals, one blue, one red. 

_Only the illusion of choice. Even if the guardians of Spellhold weren’t dead and gone, there is only one choice. We can’t go back, just forward. If only I weren’t so tired._


	154. Trial And Error

**Cards Reshuffled 154 – Trial And Error**

_According to some philosophers, insanity is just a matter of point of view. I don’t really agree with that, but I surely prefer my own insanity to some other people’s version of sanity._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations of a Master Bard’_

“I’m not convinced it is a good idea to do that just now,” Edwin said, frowning. He was holding her hand in a rather firm grip, but Zaerini didn’t mind that. She could feel the heat coming from him, flowing into her, and that was good. She had felt cold ever since Irenicus. 

“I know, but I promise I’ll be careful,” she said, managing a smile that was almost like her old smile. “Really, I will. We’ve no idea where we are, or where we’ll go next, learning a little of that could be very useful.” 

“If you must, then,” her wizard said, shaking his head. “But at the first sign of trouble I will wake you, that I promise.” 

The bard nodded silently and slid her deck of cards out of her pocket. _Strange that Irenicus didn’t take it – maybe he didn’t guess what it was? But he’s such a powerful mage, how could he not? Then again…perhaps the cards protected themselves._ She took a deep breath, carefully laying the cards out, letting them guide themselves into a spiral pattern, starting from without, going deeper and deeper within. Then, she slowly turned them over, and as her eyes slid closed, the eye within opened. 

The Knight of Coins…the Ace of Swords…the Ocean.

The Archmage…the inverted Empress…the Devil…the inverted Two of Swords. 

The Rogue and Death together. The inverted High Priestess…inverted Queen of Swords…, then the Crumbling Tower and the Heart. 

The Void, overshadowing all.

She was standing on a windy shore, her red hair whipping about her ears and the spray of seawater sharp against her lips. The Ocean lay before her, vast and blue, promising escape, promising freedom and swift journey. 

_I will not die yet. I will escape Spellhold, I think. There is a journey ahead._

“That there is, girlie, that there is,” said the man standing next to her, his voice bright as brass. The coat of armor he wore was brass as well, she saw. Smooth and shiny, but not strong, not to be trusted. He grinned at her, a shining silver sword spinning on top of his outstretched palm. “Come on girlie, you want to trust me, don’t you? You know you can, you know you should.”

_The Knight of Coins…a mercenary of some kind? Maybe…but it’s not quite right. I think…_

“Should I?” she asked. “And can I trust you?”

“Of course not, girlie.” His smile was wide and hungry, and the silver sword spun ever faster. 

_Conflict. Strife._

“But you should, all the same,” the Knight of Coins went on. “You really should, or you’ll be sorry later on. You will lose, but you will also gain, and in this I cannot lie.” The sword was just a silver blur now, almost invisible, and it was darkening, shifting, transforming into something else, some other object. She could almost make out what it was, almost but not quite and….

Blink. 

She was elsewhere, a dark place, a vast cavern she thought. There was no moon, no stars, only the heavy weight of oppressive rock above and all around. At the end of the cavern a dais stood, and there, on silver thrones, sat two haughty shapes. 

Rini felt a quiet whimper build in her throat at the sight of the nearest one. The Archmage, and this time the card meant…blue eyes, blue cold eyes, cold as ice, and the leather mask, hiding the horror she knew had to lurk behind. He watched her impassively as one might scrutinize a mildly interesting insect, then turned his gaze back to the woman sitting opposite him. 

The inverted Empress, a tall and majestic shape in dark purple velvet robes, a glinting silver crown on her head. Her face was obscured, there were shadows constantly crawling over her, long-legged, swift and purposeful shadows. 

On the floor between the two thrones lurked the Devil, a hunched and horned shape, leathery batwings flapping slowly back and forth as he leered at the pair, and there was something else as well, a silver haze around the edges of everything, a presence she could sense but not pin down. Whatever it was, it wasn’t as frightening as those she could see, but there was something distant about it, something cold. Two swords hung above the thrones, above the heads of those sitting on them, looking ready to drop at any moment. 

_Two of Swords…treachery and deceit._

“You cannot escape,” the Archmage said, not looking at her. “Your path will bring you here, whether you will it or not.”

The inverted Empress chuckled softly. “Welcome into my parlor, little fly. You look like you would make a tasty morsel.” The shadows crawled faster across her skin, and there were eyes within them, alien, multifaceted glinting eyes. “You will serve,” she said. “You will serve, or you will die. It is as simple as that.” 

_Yet one may serve two mistresses_ , a deep, clear voice spoke quietly into Zaerini’s ear, a voice like molten silver. _There is no choice but betrayal, but in betrayal there is choice. Remember and live._

Blink. 

Another dark place, but not horrible in the sense the cavern had been. She was standing on a balcony, a place high up, looking out over a city. Athkatla, perhaps? There were lights below, of windows and lanterns, people going about their business, and there were lights above, the sky full of stars. 

“The truth isn’t out there, you know,” a familiar voice said next to her shoulder, and she started, looking up into the face of the Rogue. He looked back at her solemnly, black eyes glinting from under the hood of his cloak. “It is right here, as it always was.”

“The truth?” she asked, a little hesitantly. “What truth?”

“Can you handle the truth?” he asked. “Can he?” He sounded…odd somehow. Almost frightened, and that scared her almost more than those cold blue eyes had done. 

“I hope so,” she said, her own voice not entirely steady either. “Whatever it’s about. When will you tell me?”

“When the time is right,” was the reply. There was a second cloaked and hooded dark shape present, she could glimpse it now, hovering just behind him. There was the hint of a scythe, and hollow sockets in a grinning skull-face. Icy tendrils of dread ran down her spine. 

_Death. No…please no, it doesn’t have to mean that, I know it doesn’t. It can mean change…he’s not going to turn into a girl is he, like Eddie did? Don’t know how we’d deal with that but at least it’d be better than…than…_

“When the time is right,” he repeated, softly. “Not before then. Do not even bother asking, though I’m sure you will anyway. As for now…” He pointed at the floor. “Mind your step.”

“Huh?” Rini asked, looking down. Then she gasped in horror. The stones and wood were crumbling under her feet, the vast Tower she was standing on was falling to pieces with a rumble as of the very sky caving in on itself, and she was falling, tumbling through the air, rocks and beams of wood striking her as the ground came closer and closer and…

“Try to run, did you little mouse?” a female voice asked, and cold hands clasped her, grasping her out of the air. 

“What else can a mongrel like her do?” a second, amused voice said, and there was a silvery laughter as of little bells. “Certainly, she has never known the freedom of flight, and never will.” 

Two faces, both beautiful and terrible in their own way, looking down at her, utterly dissimilar yet oddly alike. Large eyes, almond shaped, light and dark. Smooth skin, soft hair, golden and raven, smiling mouths that hinted of hidden fangs. 

_Aerie and Bodhi. Oh great._

“You’re not real,” she said, forcing her voice to sound braver than she felt. “You’re here to show me something. So, do so.” 

“Oh, very well little mongrel,” Aerie said, buffing her fingernails on her pristine and white priestly robes. “Know this – you will lose, and you will despair.”

Bodhi made a grimace. “You will be too late,” she said. “And even so, the blood runs true.”

There was a deep, muffled, thudding sound all around, a giant heart beating slowly. 

_The Heart…love? Life? I don’t understand…_

“The heart,” Bodhi whispered, her voice almost inaudible now. “The heart and the blood, working together. That is the only path back.” Darkness was sweeping in, blotting the vampires and the elf out of sight, leaving only their whispering voices. “The heart and the blood…”

WELCOME, DAUGHTER, spoke the voice out of the Void. WELCOME HOME, FOR YOU ARE SORELY MISSED. 

_I won’t come to you. I won’t._

WRONG, MY DEAR DAUGHTER. She could almost feel his smile in the blackness around her, his amusement crawling across her skin. YOU ALREADY HAVE. WHOSE POWER WAS IT THAT DROVE THE VAMPIRE OFF? WHOSE WAS THE STRENGTH?

_All right, I know it was you. So what? I won’t use it again._

WON’T YOU? YOU ARE WRONG, DEAR ONE, THERE WILL BE TIMES WHEN YOU MUST USE IT, IF YOU WISH TO LIVE. YOU WILL USE IT, AND YOU WILL DRAW STRENGTH FROM IT. THE DARKNESS WITHIN YOU WILL FEED AND NOURISH IT, AND YOUR FONDNESS FOR IT WILL GROW. 

_No. You can’t make me use it._

He chuckled at that. THAT IS THE BEAUTY OF IT, DAUGHTER. I WON’T HAVE TO. NOW GO. THE MAGE AWAITS, AND HE MUST PAY FOR HIS CRIME AGAINST YOU, AGAINST US. HE MUST NOT BE ALLOWED TO KEEP WHAT HE HAS STOLEN. 

And that, Zaerini thought as she shuddered and opened her eyes with a jerk, was at least one thing in which she could heartily agree with her sire. 

-*-

“I did not want to believe such a depravity to be even possible,” Jaheira said sometime later, her green eyes narrow with anger. “But it is there, and it cannot be denied.”

“Yeah, I know,” Zaerini said, nodding sagely. “Bodhi’s outfit made me want to hurl as well, I mean, she clearly doesn’t understand that leather straps just don’t look good.” 

“Not that! I mean what that bastard Irenicus did to you!”

The redhaired half-elf sighed. “Mmm. I knew that’s what you meant. I guess I just thought, if I can’t joke about losing my soul, then I’ve really lost it all, if you see what I mean.” She took one look at Jaheira’s blank face. “I guess not.”

“He will of course die a slow and painful death for this,” Edwin said, in a voice that was all the more frightening because he sounded so utterly calm about it. “I must merely think about the most appropriate manner.” 

“He will,” Rini said, holding her lover’s hand tightly as she managed to smile at him. “And I’ll be all right, and so will Immy.” She looked at her friend, still slumped like a rag doll against the wall where she had been put, and the smile faded. “Isn’t there anything else to be done for her?”

“Not at the moment,” Anomen said. The priest had been leaning over Imoen, and now he looked up, shaking his head. “Physically there is nothing wrong with her, but the grievous blow of losing her…”

“Soul, Ano. It’s all right, you can say it.”

“…soul, yes. It has affected her differently than you, it seems. Now, I am sure she will recover, but she needs time, and rest.”

“Both in sadly short supply here,” Dekaras murmured. The assassin was sitting on the floor next to Imoen, going through his supply of poisons. Having satisfied himself that he had adequate amounts of everything, he let the various small containers disappear again. “If healing can do no more at this point, then I think it is time we pressed on.”

“You’re right,” Rini said, nodding. “We’ve got to get out of here; we’ve got a ship to catch.” She blinked at the odd looks her friends gave her. “It was in the Reading. You’ll see.” 

“Long sea voyages and tall dark strangers?” Dekaras said, raising an eyebrow. 

“Only sea voyages.” She grinned. “I don’t think you count as a stranger anymore, do you?” 

The exasperated look he gave her made her feel almost as if she had her soul back again. 

“Leaving the banter aside,” Jaheira said, “shall we progress with this test?” She pointed at the two crystals, one blue, one red. 

“Ooooh, a test!” Minsc said, beaming. “Minsc is no good at tests, unless they involve smashing things and imprinting the Bootprint of Goodness across the Backsides of Evil! If these crystals are Evil, then Minsc will smack them, and Boo will help! Right Boo?” The hamster squeaked encouragingly from his shoulder. 

“I do hope I get a separate sanity hearing from that one,” Edwin said to nobody in particular, rubbing the bridge of his nose wearily. “Oddly enough, the prospect of spending the rest of my days in a padded cell does not appeal to me.” 

-*-

“So how is it going?” Edwin asked about half an hour later.

“Oh, pretty well,” Rini said, looking up from the thick questionnaire she was busy filling in. “They’re all easy, and even multiple choice. Listen to this.” She cleared her throat and read out loud. 

“And that’s that,” Rini said, carefully inserting the sheets of paper into a slot in the wall. “Now let’s see what happens.” There was a brief click, and then some buzzing. Finally, there was a clear, somewhat monotone voice speaking. 

“You have been cleared. After this difficult test, we are now convinced that you are ready to rejoin the world of the sane, Miss Miyazaki.” A door opened, leading out to a sunny courtyard, and all the adventurers hastened to walk through it, helping Imoen along. 

“Miss who?” Edwin whispered. 

“Oh,” Zaerini said, and winked at him. “I guess they got a bit mixed up with the records. The sanity hearing we got was meant for some nutty fallen paladin. Tough on her, but at least we got out easily, right? Now let’s go before they notice something’s wrong.”

From the open courtyard another door led back into Spellhold. Not into the dungeons this time though, but the upper level cellblocks and the areas designed for the wizards. They walked for a while; passing through empty rooms and corridors, until eventually they began to approach areas they recognized. 

“Pst!” The sound came from around a corner ahead, and as the adventurers stopped, a head peeked nervously around the corner. Saemon Havarian was still smiling his eternal smile, but Rini thought it looked rather rough around the edges by now. “Ah,” he began. “My fine friends! I…”

“We are not,” Jaheira interrupted him, “your ‘fine friends’.”

“We are not your friends at all,” Anomen filled in. 

“You could, however, potentially keep us from becoming enemies,” Dekaras helpfully suggested. “Preferably by standing aside right now.”

“Minsc likes friends! Many friends, good friends, nice friends to bop Evil on the head! If you’re Evil, Minsc likes for Boo to nibble your nose.”

“Do you know,” Edwin said, “at exactly what temperature a human body will combust? And would you like a practical demonstration?”

“Now, now,” Saemon said, raising his hands in the air. “Such hostility, my fine fr…er…good people. I assure you, whatever may have passed before, I am here only to help.”

“Of course you are,” Zaerini said. “Help how, exactly?”

“Well…I know you’re after the wizard, Irenicus. He’s still around the place somewhere, but I overheard him, he’s going to leave soon. Now, maybe you’ll catch him before he does, and maybe you won’t, but if you live through it you’ll still need passage off this rock, right?”

“Maybe.”

“And it so happens,” Saemon grinned, “That much as you are in need of a ship, I am in need of passengers to pay my bills. That Vulgar Monkey, they sure do overprice their rum…and the debts down at Galvena’s didn’t really help either.”

“There are other ships,” Jaheira said, her glare looking as if it might burn holes through Saemon’s skin. 

“Not as such, no. See, Desharik, the Pirate Lord, he has all the ships of the island under an embargo. Nobody can leave, no matter what. Except me, since I got this little trick up my sleeve I’ll be willing to share with my fine, fine friends – assuming they want to go with me.”

“Fine,” Rini curtly said. “We will keep it in mind, for later.” She didn’t trust Saemon, no, not one inch. And yet, the Reading had been very clear this time. She was supposed to go with him, and if she didn’t, she would regret it. “Now,” she told Saemon. “Where did you last see Irenicus?”

-*-

In a solitary confinement cell, deep below Spellhold, a lone prisoner howled with rage, shredding a questionnaire until her cell looked like it had been subjected to a heavy snowfall. She kicked futilely at the thick mattresses lining the walls, then stomped her foot. 

“What is this outrage? I am a Paladin, a Paladin I tell you! The Gods are merely testing me by bereaving me of my power, they have a grand plan for me, I know they do! Clearly, they are doing this to sharpen me into a more perfect weapon to Smite all creatures of Evil, but how can this be achieved by asking me to answer questions about turning into a catgirl?” She looked around; her eyes wild. “There is…there is…there is an Evil Conspiracy against all that is Lawful! My blades will be bathed in the blood of those responsible.” Then she glared at the walls again. “Right after I Smite the villain who ripped the tags off these mattresses.”


	155. The Price of Freedom

**Cards Reshuffled 155 – The Price of Freedom**

_Freedom – it’s worth almost anything, even death. But that doesn’t make those deaths any easier. Especially not when the deaths are not your own._

_Except from ‘The Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“I really cannot say I consider this a good idea, or even a sane one,” Anomen whispered. “These people are…well, out of their minds. They may just as well turn on us.”

“I don’t think so,” Zaerini whispered back to him. “None of them have any reason to side with Irenicus, he’s the one who kept them locked up here when he took over from the Cowlies, remember?” She cleared her throat briskly and looked out over the people assembled before her in the inmates dining hall. Releasing them from their cells had been easy enough, after the jailor had been relieved of both his keys and his life. “Friends!” she began, smiling a dazzling smile. “Inmates! Fellow nutjobs! I have a dream!”

“Ooooh, I don’t like dreams,” muttered the skinny man standing directly in front of her, the one with the absent look in his eyes. “I looked too far, too high behind the sky, and now my dreams are…”

“Doggies!” barked the man standing next to him, a wild-eyed elf who kept twitching whenever somebody looked at him. “Bad doggies! All over, in my dreams, in my house, and none of them housebroken!”

“Yes, thank you Dradeel,” Rini sighed. She felt rather sorry for the old elf, he’d been strange the last time she’d met him, but not like this. I guess the werewolf island was a bit too much for him, after all. “As I was saying, I have a dream. A dream of…”

“Of Tiax ascending and ruling all as the Divine Hand of Cyric, Overlord of Eeeevil!” cheered the gnome in the front row, little bits of spittle flying from his mouth. 

“Yeah. Possibly. If you help us destroy Irenicus first.” She struck a dramatic pose. “Yes, I say Irenicus! You all know him. He has kept you here against your will, he has put you through his…experiments.” There were uncomfortable murmurs and shuffling of feet. “And do you know why he could do that? Because you were alone. But that is not so now. He may be strong, but together we will be stronger! You are all powerful magic users, each and every one of you. Surely we can take him.”

“The Cowled Ones were strong as well,” Dradeel said. “And the bad, bad doggie got them all.” 

“Ah…yes, perhaps. But we have what they didn’t have, and do you know what that is?”

“No!” the inmates echoed. 

_Neither do I, to be honest. But then, why be honest?_ “Insanity!” Rini triumphantly declared. “The Cowled Wizards were predictable, and you won’t be. If the power of insanity wasn’t supreme, why would people fear it so?” She raised her voice a bit more. “So, I say, nay, we won’t go quietly into the long night! We will stand and fight! We will show the world what insanity is capable of!” They were with her, she could sense it, the emotions of the crowd raising her spirits, carrying her along on a tide of words. “Now for rage! Now for ruin, and for a red dawn! Now for Irenicus’ head on a pointy stick! DEATH!” 

“DEATH!” yelled the inmates, shaking their fists in the air. 

“And cookies?” asked little Dili. She was currently in the form of a small white dog, and exactly how she was speaking was unclear. “If we punish the bad man, do we get cookies after?”

“Of course,” Rini said. “But you’re not fighting, kiddo.”

“Aww…”

“Sorry Dili. I need you to do something else.” She pointed at Imoen, who was sitting on the floor, staring absently into space. “I need you to look after my sister for me. That’s the most important job of all, see. Will you do that for me?”

The dog nodded earnestly and padded over to curl up in Imoen’s lap. The pink haired girl didn’t smile, but her fingers slowly stroked the soft fur. 

“Good girl,” Rini said, smiling. Then, the smile faded. “And now, we kill.” 

-*-

“Well, he’s in there,” Dekaras said, appearing out of the shadows in that way that still made Zaerini startle. Then again, it still made Edwin startle too, so she supposed she didn’t have to feel embarrassed about it. “He is in what I assume is his laboratory, writing.”

“Writing, huh? I guess he’s not in too much of a hurry.”

“You know, there really is no need for all of this…flashiness.”

“Maybe so. But maybe he has a few of those nasty spell contingencies set up. That could get you killed, and not only wouldn’t I want that, Eddie would never forgive me either.” 

The assassin gave her a mildly surprised look. “If you say so. Nevertheless, we do need to make haste, he won’t remain there forever. Ideally you want to distract him long enough to take him by surprise.”

“Mmm, I agree.” The half-elf frowned, thinking hard. “The question is, how?”

-*-

Jon Irenicus wasn’t normally an emotional man. Well, not lately at least. Not since that highly unfortunate punishment had been inflicted upon him. He had felt rage at first, and pain, and horror. Eventually, they had faded. He had clung to the memory of love, and that had faded too until he couldn’t quite remember what it had felt like in the first place. He supposed he missed it, in as much as he was capable of missing anything. 

But now…things had changed, and this time for the better. The Bhaalspawn soul was working as intended and was proving satisfactorily strong. And he was beginning to…yes, to feel things. Things he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

Irenicus smiled, a small, satisfied smile, and went on with his writing. It made him content, this channeling of the…feeling…onto white paper. He would go on for a few minutes more, Bodhi wasn’t half ready to leave yet. 

_How can it possibly take the woman so long to pack, when all of her outfits could fit inside a small shoebox? Well, apart from the one with the ostrich feathers._

The sound broke his line of thought, and he raised his head, looking out the window. It was birdsong, pure and clear, but there was something odd about it, a distinctly human note. Peculiar, to say the least. The archmage stood and walked over to the window. The bird sitting on the windowsill looked rather like a large magpie, but it was red and white rather than black and white, with gleaming orange eyes. 

“Doom!” the bird spoke, trilling sweetly. “Doom doom doom!”

“Is that so?” Irenicus asked, and he smiled again as boredom dissipated. “And whose doom would that be, bird?”

“Doom?” the bird spoke. 

“Yours? Mine? Your Mistress, whose hand I see in this? Perhaps even…Ellesime.”

“Doom,” the bird spoke. 

Irenicus nodded. “Yes. Yes, I rather think so. I am quite looking forward to it, as a matter of fact.”

“Not as much as I am, Irenicus!”

And he turned around with a smile on his masked face. “Ah, there you are, Child of Bhaal. If you came because you expected a villain’s exposition you will be disappointed. It is time to end this farce.”

-*-

“Not as much as I am, Irenicus!” Rini marveled at the truth of those words. Ever since the beginning, ever since she had been taken that first time, taken and tormented and plundered, she had feared him. The very thought of him had drained her of will and strength, wanting to send her cowering on the floor. She was still wary of him, of course, she knew well his strength. But now…things had changed. Losing her soul may have hurt her in many ways, but the paralyzing fear was gone. She wanted to kill, not cower. She felt stronger than before. 

_But I won’t let It take over, not now, it’s too dangerous._

The Slayer…the power of Bhaal. She would use it if she had to, but only then, or it might hurt her friends as well as her foe. 

_No matter how much I may want to._

There was a howl from behind her, and Dradeel was casting a spell, summoning…things. Crawling, furry, fanged things that looked as if they were spawned directly from the elven mage’s nightmares. The other mages were casting as well, she heard Edwin finishing up a spell and blocks of chunky ice fell from the sky, forcing Irenicus to take a quick step sideways, interrupting his casting. 

Light flashed around the masked archmage, shimmering magical shields, swirling spikes and impenetrable stone, haloes of pure magic. That didn’t deter Minsc, who was hammering away at him, beating furiously at the shields, trying to bring them down. One failed, and another winked out as Edwin’s magic dispelled it, but new ones replaced them. ¨

_We can take him, I know we can, as long as Bodhi and Aerie don’t join in as well, we can, we have to…_

Rini had just readied her bow, taking careful aim for the right eyehole in Irenicus’ mask, when it happened. The wizard made a sweeping gesture with both hands, and waves of black vapor rolled out from them. She could hear screams, screams of death and torment, but she could feel nothing, apart from a sharp stinging smell in her nostrils. 

“Enough of this!” Irenicus called out, in a strong, clear voice. “Play amongst yourselves, little ones!” There was a purple flash, a sharp whiff of ozone, and he was gone. 

_No! NO! He can’t get away, not now!_

As the darkness cleared, she saw that it was worse than that though, far worse. Though her friends all seemed alive, the inmates of Spellhold lay dead on the floor, their faces frozen in grimaces of pain and horror. Dead, all dead, here where she had brought them. That, however, wasn’t the worst part. 

They stood in a cluster, shapeless forms at first, grey faces with blank black eyes. Within seconds though, they took on defined forms, perfect in every detail. Zaerini stared directly into a pair of yellow eyes identical to her own, looked upon a snarling version of her own face. _Doppelgangers?_ No, not quite. Whatever these things were, Irenicus had summoned them into existence. Then, she didn’t have time to think further, because the copy of Jaheira charged at her with an idiotic grin on its face, scimitars whirling. She just barely managed to dodge out of the way, but there was a sharp pain along the side of her face, as if vicious thorns bit into her skin. She rolled and got to her feet, desperately looking around for her friends, praying that she would at least be able to tell them apart from their doubles. 

“Edwin!” Dekaras shouted. “Mark them!” The assassin was clinging to the back of the Minsc copy, gradually choking the life out of it with a garrote firmly secured around its neck. The double, though wounded and slowed, was doing its best to dislodge him by ramming itself into the walls, and he looked rather dazed already. 

“What with?” Edwin called back. He and Anomen were standing back to back, blasting away at the assassin’s own double, which didn’t seem inclined to allow itself to be hit by either magic or weaponry, and had already inflicted a nasty gash along Anomen’s side. 

“I don’t care, just do it before we lose track of who’s who!”

The wizard grimaced briefly, but then a bundle of glowing lights formed between his hands, floating up into the air to hover above the heads of the clones. A square, a diamond, a circle, a triangle, a moon and…

_A heart? Aw, that’s sweet of him, even if it is my evil copy over there._

She dodged again, kicking out the legs from under the Jaheira clone, then had to make a jump to avoid a large paw as the clone shifted into bear form, swiping at her. Then there was a loud growl, followed by a solid ‘thump’, and the real Jaheira was there, a second bear wrestling the first one to the ground, tearing at its neck. Rini took a deep breath of relief, then turned around to see the Anomen copy advancing on her, swinging a very realistic copy of the Flail of Ages. A bit too realistic for comfort, she thought, as little nasty sparks of fire and acid struck her arm, burning through the clothes. She raised her unharmed arm, fighting the pain to get the spell out, and a green streak of magic hissed through the air towards ‘Anomen’s’ unprotected face. He screamed as the acid ate away at him, his handsome face melting and running like a candle, and she had to hold back a wave of revulsion. 

_Not real. Not him._

She stood over the clone, her sword raised to finish him, and when she heard the soft noise behind her it was too late, far too late to do anything. She managed to half turn around to see the malicious glint in those yellow eyes, the bared teeth and the flying hair. The sword coming towards her, straight towards her heart. The voices of her friends were a slow roar in her ears, as she heard them calling out, warning her. Too late. Entirely too late. 

The impact of the blow drove her to the ground, her entire body screaming out with pain, and the air was forced out of her body. She felt hot. Hot, and sticky, and it was spreading, spreading all around her. She looked to her side, to see a quickly expanding pool of red. 

She couldn’t think. It hurt too much. But after a few seconds, she knew that she wasn’t dead yet, and she wondered why this was so. Then the heavy weight was rolled off her body, and somebody was helping her into a sitting position, helping her see. Helping her see the body on the ground in front of her, the body that had shielded her from the killing blow. She blinked, her eyes filling with tears. 

“Why…?”

“He should not have granted me my freedom,” Yoshimo said, smiling faintly as he looked up at her. “A free man…is free to die as he chooses, no?” 

And so, he did. 

-*-

Yoshimo looked peaceful in death, in a way he never had in life. Zaerini hoped that he was. All the same… “Jaheira?” She asked, hating the pleading note in her voice. “Ano? Can you…”

“No, child,” the druid simply said, shaking her head. “It is not that the wound is too great, but he will not be willing. He died content.”

“It is so,” Anomen agreed. “It is something to be sensed even now, before attempting to cast the spell. He died as he chose.”

“He died a free man,” Dekaras said in a soft voice. The assassin had knelt down to look at the body, and now got to his feet again with a small sigh. “There are worse ways to end one’s days.”

Rini rubbed her eyes, trying to get the gritty feeling out of them. “And the others? Will you try, at least?”

The healers exchanged a long look that she couldn’t quite interpret, but they did as she asked. It was to no avail, though. Whatever the spell had been that had killed the inmates, they remained firmly dead. Or perhaps it was due to their damaged minds, she thought. _I used them_ , she thought. _I used them to get Irenicus. And…I would do it again._

_Kitten?_ Softpaws curled up in her arms, and she wrapped her arms gratefully around the cat, stroking the soft fur. _Where do we go now?_

_I don’t know, Softy. I just don’t know. He took off, and we have no idea where he went, and without my soul I don’t know how long I’ll last, do I?_

_You will not give up. You will find him, and fight him, and he will die with your teeth in his throat and your claws in his eyes._

_I’ll try. Promise. Who knows, maybe we’ll have a lucky break. It’s about time._

“Well,” Dekaras said, sounding rather amused. “This is interesting.” The assassin had wandered around the room, reminding Rini faintly of some wild animal carefully inspecting a new territory. Now he was standing by the writing desk in the corner of the room, reading something. “Edwin, if I ever should decide to take up Arch Villainy, please do remind me to under no circumstances trust myself with a pen. First Sarevok and his unfortunate diary, and now this – just listen.” He held up a piece of parchment, crammed full of neat, tidy, yet oddly explosive handwriting. “Ellesime, how do I loathe thee. Let me count the ways. A love turned to poison, glory turning to bitter ashes in my mouth. Cast down, in my very moment of triumph, brought lower than the lowest. All in the name of your ‘love’. Suldanesselar burnt, as the Tree did, as I did. It will burn again. Your chains bind me no longer, I have taken on my own what you robbed me of, and my strength is growing along with my fury. You will regret your ‘mercy’, my Queen, as I return triumphant. Soon, the hour will be upon you.”

“Sounds like somebody had a really, really bad breakup,” Rini said, her lips quirking into a smile. “This is great news! Wherever he is right now, he clearly means to go to this Suldanesselar place. Ellesime…that name sounds familiar.” 

_A forest, far away from here. The overwrought artist, working in an obsessive frenzy, working himself to the point of death. And the statue…yes, the statue in the face of the cliff, the beautiful face that the man was dying for. The face of an elf._

“Ellesime…” she said. “Prism. You remember, don’t you Eddie? Jaheira? That artist we met outside Nashkel, near the mines. He worked himself to death sculpting her statue.”

“Utter foolishness,” Edwin said, shaking his head. “All for a woman who cared nothing for him and probably did not even know he existed. (And it’s not as if she was all that beautiful anyway. Not like some people I could mention.) When I find the opportunity to bring my own considerable artistic talents into play, you will see that he was an insignificant amateur by comparison.”

“Very fascinating,” Jaheira said. “Yes, I remember him.” She smiled, a small and triumphant smile. “What is more important, I know of Suldanesselar. It is an elven city in the great forest of Tethyr, and for many years has been ruled by a Queen.”

“Queen Ellesime?” Rini asked. 

“None other.” 

Now the half-elf was smiling too, and there was some emotion stirring within her that took her a moment to recognize. Hope. Yes. “Then,” she said, “I guess we have a goal.”

-*-

There were no further attacks on the way out of Spellhold, nor was there any sighting of Irenicus or Bodhi. Wherever they had disappeared to, it seemed they were not coming back. As the adventurers stepped outside, she blinked at the sun, shielding her eyes. She knew it hadn’t been all that long, but it felt as if she hadn’t seen it for a lifetime. It reminded her of another day, another day when she had emerged from darkness, bruised and battered. 

_Twice now, Irenicus. Twice you’ve slipped away, leaving me behind to lick my wounds. But there won’t be a third time._

“How are you feeling?” Edwin asked, his hand taking hold of hers. She squeezed it back, managing to smile a little. 

“Been better, to be honest. But it’s good to be out of that place, at least.”

Her lover’s face darkened with anger: “I would gladly burn it to the ground and scatter the ashes. You need only say the word.”

“Tempting. But I guess we’d better not, it might cause unwanted attention from the pirates. Besides, somebody who didn’t deserve it might get hurt.” 

“Another day then, when you have your soul back and are fully recovered. I shall make it a special outing, I think, and we may have a picnic afterwards, when the ruins have stopped smoldering.” 

She felt her smile getting more genuine at that, and she tilted her head back to share a quick but satisfying kiss with him. “You do say the most romantic things, Eddie. All right, it’s a date. I’m looking forward to it already.” 

Such pleasures would have to wait though. For now, they needed to regroup, settle their affairs on the island, not to mention deal with Saemon Havarian. _And I’ve got this strong feeling that I’m not going to enjoy it._

“So, your ship is under Desharik’s embargo,” Rini said, giving Saemon a suspicious look. The group had found Saemon with no difficulty, but she suspected the difficult part was about to come. “And you want us to get it free. Exactly how would we do that?”

“Ah, there’s the rub, my fine friends,” Saemon said, scratching his chin. “You see, Desharik does have a mighty horn, named the Horn of Harrowing, one that he would use to signal an imminent attack by the forces of law and order. Any other time it’s every pirate for himself of course, but then they’d have no choice but to team up. There’d be lots of chaos and running about if that horn was blown…and it would mean the harbor gates would come open too. The problem is, Desharik won’t part with the Horn easily. He carries it around his neck at all times.”

“I see no immediate problem with this,” Dekaras said with a small shrug. “One would simply have to make him and his neck part company, and the rest would sort itself out.”

“Ah. Well, there is one small problem with that, you see. The horn won’t work for anybody but Desharik, having had a mysterious enchantment placed upon it. You’ll have to make him blow it himself.”

“And he will only do this,” Anomen asked, “If there is a large attack on the town?”

“Yes.”

“And is there, in fact,” Jaheira said, fixing Saemon with a cold glare as she did so, “an imminent attack by the Amnian Navy scheduled?”

“Ah…not as such, no.” Saemon grinned. “But you’ll think of something, I’m sure. Now, when he blows the Horn, all hell will erupt. You’ll want to hurry down to the Galante as fast as you can.”

“Where you will of course,” Dekaras said, “be waiting faithfully and patiently for our arrival.”

“Faithful as anything, sir! My word as a Havarian upon it.” His smile could have been used to fry a pound of shrimp, and there would still have been plenty of oil left over. “And you needn’t worry about not getting out of harbor in time, the Galante is the fastest ship on the seas, and I’ve made special arrangements. As soon as you’ve done your part, I will do mine.”

It was sometime later. Saemon had left, presumably to see to his ship, and the adventurers were talking things over among themselves. Everybody was in complete agreement that Saemon could not be trusted. Everybody was also in agreement that at the moment, he seemed to be their best chance. 

“Then all we need to do is to stage a naval invasion,” Edwin commented. “Fantastic. Just fantastic. (Why not simply put a reliable Dire Charm on the pirate? It would have the added benefit of being able to make him jump off a cliff once he’s done his part.)”

“I’d be all for that if I thought it’d work,” Rini mused. “But if what Saemon said is right, the Horn will only work when Desharik blows it of his own free will. So, no charms, sadly. We’ll have to trick him, somehow.”

“But not until tomorrow,” Jaheira admonished her. “You need some rest, as do we all. And there is also Dili to consider.” 

Zaerini looked over to the shapechanging little girl, who was currently sitting on the floor, giggling at Insufferable who was making faces at her. She looked more or less human, but for some odd reason her skin had turned light purple. _I guess she likes the colour. Much like Immy likes pink._

That made her look over towards her best friend, who was sitting mutely in a chair, her eyes blank and seeming disinterested in anything happening around her. Imoen still hadn’t really spoken since her rescue, and if she was aware of what was happening around her, she showed little sign of it. 

“I was thinking of Claire and her wizard boyfriend,” she said. “When the embargo is lifted, they can get off the island, and get Dili out of here. And I don’t think Keldorn would say no to looking after her, would he?”

“I dare say not. Very well, I will see if the wizard and his paramour are still available.” The druid stood, and gently touched her arm. “I will be along later to check on you. Now promise to get some rest.” 

She did promise, and she did mean it. But as she reached out a hand to Edwin, and her lover pulled her to her feet, it was an entirely different urge that suddenly came over her. _The touch of his hand. The look in his eyes. The scent of his skin. I want. I want._ She had to suppress an urge to drag him bodily into the bedroom, and she knew that she wouldn’t be able to wait much longer. _His hands on my body. His heart against mine. I need. I need him so much._ She licked her lips briefly, muttered something incoherent about going to bed. 

_I need to feel alive again. To feel like me._

She hoped that it would work. Ultimately, she doubted it. But she needed, at the very least, to try.


	156. Horn of Harrowing

**Cards Reshuffled 156 – Horn of Harrowing**

_I am not one easily given towards frivolous entertainment, but nevertheless I know about jigsaws. Now, imagine that you are just finishing a quite complicated one, with a thousand pieces to keep track of. Imagine it is the picture of a landscape. The picture is becoming clear, just as you had planned, and you are just about to place the final piece of sky. This is when you realize that not only has the picture changed into one of those nauseating ones with a crying infant, but there are suddenly ten new pieces that you never noticed before, and they are all the wrong shape. Imagine this, and you will have at least some inkling of how I feel about random prophecy. It needs to be taken into account, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

_I’ve learnt quite a few things while adventuring. The mysterious figure in the tavern will either be out to kill you or have a quest for you. Sea journeys are always, always trouble. So are prophecies. And last but not least, any gnomish invention that doesn’t blow you up, will make you wish it had._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Brynnlaw was never quiet, even at night. The narrowed streets echoed with drunken shouting and singing, the kind done by men who have reached a level of inebriation where they can really only pronounce vowels. 

_In other words, they sound like complete – well, simians. And they smell like them too._

Dekaras shook his head and adjusted his position in order for his legs not to cramp up. The windowsill on the second-floor landing was quite broad, but he was still a tall person and he had been waiting for some time now, longer than he had expected. At least for some time now the pirates had been the only noisemakers around. Finally, there was the sound he had been waiting for. A small creak, nearly inaudible, and a slow movement in the darkness as the door swung outwards. He silently slid down from the window, and along the wall, while listening for the careful measured footsteps heading towards him. 

“A moment of your time, if you please,” he said. “There is something important we need to discuss.”

“Eeep!” The girl had turned quite white, but he approved of the way her hands went into a defensive position almost immediately. Not quite fast enough, but there was clear potential there. “What are you doing?!” she hissed, sounding angry now. Her face was a white blur, but her wide eyes were quite visible in the darkness. Gleaming yellow eyes, like those of a cat. “Look, I know you like to sneak up on people, but why in the Nine Hells are you lurking outside our bedroom?”

“Because Brynnlaw is a less…civilized place than Athkatla, and that is saying a lot. I do not like to take chances with you two. Why, one of you might have got it into their head to go waltzing off after Irenicus on his or her own, or into the streets on some lark. But clearly, you are two levelheaded young people who never would endanger themselves on a mere whim, and you and I are not having this conversation.”

“I was just getting something to drink, honest! As for Eddie, he’s asleep. We…” She broke off, and he could just make out her covering her face with one of her hands. “Oh gods. Er…just how long have you been there?”

Dekaras cleared his throat briefly, and for a moment he felt just as awkward as she sounded. This really wasn’t the direction where he had aimed to take the conversation, in fact it was a subject he had hoped never, ever to have to breach. “Oh, not very,” he said, trying to keep his face absolutely neutral, and grateful of the darkness. He hadn’t tried to listen, in fact he had stayed as far away as he possibly could and still keep the door in sight, but there had been one or two moments…no. He would obliterate those moments from his memories, and hopefully remain sane.

“Oh. So, you didn’t hear…”

“Hear what?”

“Um. Nothing.” She fiddled with a strand of her hair. “So…what did you have to talk with me about that was so important it couldn’t wait until morning?” Her eyes narrowed a little. “You didn’t want the others to hear, did you? Not even Eddie?”

Dekaras stepped closer to the window, motioning for the girl to follow him. “You are correct,” he said. “This is a matter between you and I.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. This wasn’t a conversation he was looking forward to, but it was utterly necessary. _Because nobody else could tell her what she needs to hear._ “Irenicus tore out a part of your soul. He raped your very essence, robbing you of a part of your core self.” 

Her voice was brittle, sharp with anger, and she was clenching her hands now. “Huh, tell me something I don’t know, why don’t you? If you’re just curious about what it feels like, why don’t you say so?”

The assassin looked intently back at her, watching for signs of an imminent change. This was a dangerous gambit, quite definitely, but still necessary. “I am not,” he said, speaking in slow, measured tones, tones of absolute confidence. “You feel rage and hatred blacker than any you ever felt, even towards the man who killed your adoptive father. You want to feel the blood of Irenicus running down your hands, you want the scent of it to fill your nostrils. You want to destroy him utterly, wipe him from the face of the earth until not even the memory of him remains. But that is not all.” He stared directly into her eyes as he spoke, slowing his voice down. “There is a darkness inside of you that was never there before. There is an empty space, with edges as sharp as jagged glass, and it tears what remains of your being, every moment you remain awake. It is deep, and it is cold, and it is keeping you awake at night, while others sleep the sleep of the innocent.”

Her mouth had opened a little, but she was not speaking, simply watching. 

“It makes you want to scream with pain,” he went on, “but you do not, because then he would win, would he not? And yet you wonder how long you can keep your mask up, and not let the others see exactly what is behind it. You wonder how much of you is still you, and you fear that you are nothing but a monster. You wonder how long it will be before you give in.”

She was breathing deeply now, harsh, ragged breaths, and still watching, eyes blank. Part of him hated himself for going on, but he still did. _You can do a lot of things when you have to._

“And there is one part of you,” he said softly, “that feels guilt. Guilt that you let it happen, that you could not stop him, that you weren’t strong enough to do so. That you let him in. Is it not so?”

He just had time to see the tears welling up in the gleaming yellow eyes before him, and then he was holding her tightly towards him, her body pressing in towards his. She was sobbing silently against his shoulder, trying to not make a single sound. So familiar, and yet so alien. 

“I could tell you that you are wrong, and I would mean every word,” he said, slowly stroking her hair. “But that would not help, would it? The feeling still remains. What I will tell you is this. My own…injury…was less grievous than yours, but it was of a similar nature. Though it may not feel like it, you can cope, for some time. You may not believe it, but I know it to be true. There are a lot of things one can cope with when one has to, and in your case, it need be only until Irenicus is dead, which hopefully won’t take long. Do you believe that what I say is the truth?”

She looked up briefly, tear-streaked face bobbing up and down in a nod. 

“Then I am glad. I am also sorry that I had to cause you pain.”

“It’s all right,” she whispered, looking out the window. “I’m glad you did.” They stood silently for a minute or two, side by side, looking out the window at the moonlit rooftops below. Then she spoke again, exactly the question that he’d been dreading. He’d known it was almost certainly inevitable though. The girl wasn’t foolish after all, and she knew how to pay attention. “Vadrak? Who was it, and why, and…how long ago? And…does Eddie know?” 

The assassin gave a small sigh. _I knew there would be a price to pay. There always is, after all. Yet I will do this. It is necessary._ “Edwin knows some of it,” he said, beginning with the easiest question first. “He does not know all the tedious details, nor will I burden you with those.” Then he looked inwards, into the darkness. “I was only about nine or so, I think,” he said, speaking more slowly now. “It is…partially difficult to remember. But I do remember being proud, very proud indeed, of having magic strong enough that I had been deemed worthy of training. I was a foolish child, very foolish. I did not know that I was being groomed for what amounted to lifelong slavery to the ruling class, and when I did, it was far too late. I was severely punished.”

The girl bit her lip, looking up at him. Her eyes had darkened with some emotion he couldn’t quite identify, but at least it wasn’t the rage of Bhaal. So. He had just intended to force himself to go on, when she spoke instead. 

“They took it away? Those…and Eddie knows some of this you said? How could he!”

Dekaras blinked. “How could he what?”

“Become a Red Wizard! After they…they…I can’t even say it!”

“Ah. No.” He chuckled dryly. “No, not the Red Wizards. While they certainly know many unsavory spells, this one is not part of their repertoire. You see, while I have lived most of my life in Thay, I was not born there. This was the _Wychlaran_.” 

It was hard to tell in the darkness, but he thought she paled a little. “I know that word.”

“Yes, you would. Your friend Minsc would have spoken a great deal of the glorious and benevolent Witches of Rasheman. I can’t really blame him for it, I once thought as much myself without even a headwound as an excuse. And so, now you know.”

She was looking at him again, in that way that made him slightly uncomfortable because he couldn’t quite figure it out. “Yeah,” she said. “Now I know.” She smiled, a slightly sad smile. “Thanks.” 

“There is no need – I told you before, you and I are not having this conversation, remember?”

“Right, sure.” She put one finger across her mouth in a comically exaggerated gesture that made the assassin’s lips twitch a little. “Never heard a word. Um, Vadrak? There was one more thing.”

“Yes?”

She rubbed her upper arms briefly, as if she were feeling the cold, despite the warmth of the night air. “There’s something else, isn’t there? I know there is, I saw it, in the latest Reading I did. There’s something else, something important, and you’re not telling me. Something about Eddie.”

Dekaras went very still for the merest fraction of a second, and then he forced himself to exhale slowly, in what he hoped was a natural manner. “There are a great many things about Edwin I haven’t told you,” he said. “Oddly enough I suspect he would probably thank me for it, amusing as some of the anecdotes would be.”

“Not like that!” she snapped. She looked directly at him again, and now it was he who found himself unable to look away from those faintly glowing eyes in front of him. His mouth felt suddenly very dry. “There’s something really, really important, something you want to tell him, but haven’t. Something he should know.”

_No. Impossible. She can’t know, nobody knows apart from us!_

“I wasn’t snooping on purpose,” she said, matter–of- factly. “And I don’t know what it’s all about. But I know it’s true. The readings can be vague, but they don’t lie. And I know you’d never keep anything important from him if you didn’t think it was for the best, but…”

“But?” Dekaras said, forcing the word out. Part of him wondered how and when exactly the conversation had got turned around like this. 

“But I just got this feeling that the time’s running out.” She took his hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “Promise to at least think about it, all right? Anyway, I think I’d better get back to bed now, we’ve got a busy day tomorrow.” She raised her hand in a small wave. “Good night, and thanks again. Really. I feel – well not good, but I do feel better.”

“Good night,” Dekaras said, watching her as she returned to her room and carefully pulled the door shut. 

_I wish I could say the same thing._

-*-

The world had changed. For the longest time, it had been darkness and solitude, and before that it had been horrible pain. There had been things even before that, she knew as much, but she couldn’t quite remember most of them. It seemed as if her memories were broken and fragmented, disjointed bits floating about inside her head, and when she tried to reach for them it hurt. It was so much easier to just retreat, to hide deep within herself, and not pay attention to anything. Too bad some people just wouldn’t let her. 

“Immy? Immy, please, you have to eat something. Come on, you like this, I know you do…”

There was a hand grasping hers, and she looked up to see a face that ought to be familiar. Yellow eyes, larger than a human’s, ears and chin just a bit pointed, a mop of bright red hair. 

_I know her…don’t I? I think I do. But who…_

The girl was holding out something to her. Bread, and a bowl of thick, chunky broth. _Yuck. Wouldn’t eat that even if I wasn’t nuts. Or maybe I’m not nuts enough?_ The thought made her giggle, and the girl looked at her in dismay. _Walnuts, hazelnuts, regular old nuts…nuts just like me._

She mused on this for a while, and then was surprised to see more people in the room all of a sudden. She’d been so deep inside her head that she hadn’t seen them enter. Most of them seemed familiar, even if she couldn’t remember from where, especially the big guy with the fuzzy hamster. _Fuzzy…hm…cute…_ And then she turned her head to see another man enter the room, and she giggled, loud and clearly. Weird, why did they all seem so spooked by that? It wasn’t as if there was anything odd about giggling, was there? 

“You!” she said, pointing at him. “You’re a dreeeeeeam, you know that? That’s all right though, I like dreams, unless they’re bad ones.”

The man in black looked startled at that, but he came over to sit next to her. Hm. She liked that. “Why do you say that, Imoen?” he asked. 

“Because! Um…because you were in some other place, far away. Not with us.” She waved cheerily at the redhaired girl, who oddly enough didn’t seem cheered at all by this. _Some people are just strange._ “Anyway, I made something for you,” she went on. “A Statue. Strange huh, when you’re not even here? I wonder why I did? Guess I’d better give it to you before you go away again.”

“I assure you, that is not necess…”

“Ta da!” she called out, proudly presenting him with the object carefully wrapped in a bundle that she had just hauled out of one of her pockets. She was glad she’d managed to keep it hidden during…during…whatever the bad things had been. Why, just look at the transfixed look on his face as he unwrapped it. “They gave me clay”, she explained. “In…I don’t remember. Somewhere. So, I made this, from memory. Well, sorta. If I got something wrong, all you gotta do is say, and you can model for me and I’ll make a new one, see? I think sculpting is better than drawing, ‘specially for nudes, it really shows things off and you do like it, don’t ya? I thought you would, even if I don’t actually remember your name right now.”

He’d gone quite, quite red in the face, and was hurriedly wrapping the Statue up again. _Aw, he’s shy! That’s sweet!_

“It certainly…shows things off, yes,” he said, clearing his throat. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know,” she honestly answered. “Sometimes it hurts, and then I feel sad, and there are lots of things I can’t remember, but more than before. I’m tired now. I think I’ll go away inside my own head for a bit again, to look at all the pretty pictures.” 

Just before she slowly drifted off into the emptiness again, she caught sight of the ring of faces around her. Weird how they all seemed so sad. It wasn’t as if she was ill, or anything. 

Was she? 

-*-

Desharik the Pirate Lord wasn’t normally an early riser. Getting up before three in the afternoon seemed quite unnecessary to him – that would force you to miss out on all the best parts of the night. Today he was even more inclined to stay in bed than normal, given that he had spent a great part of last night on his favorite pastime. Not grog, not rum, not plunder or whoring, no. It had been the best game of Wizard in the Dungeon in quite some time, and he’d only had to slit the throat of one of his players too. _Whiny little maggot, complaining about me disintegrating all his equipment…any real player would just deal with it and get on with things, Dire Giant Squid or not._ Using your pirate minions for players had some definite benefits, they were all too scared to complain, even when he made them play ‘live’, and whenever one died, he felt more alive. _Maybe a horde of Gelatinous Paladins next time…yessssssss…_

The Pirate Lord chuckled to himself, and stretched in bed, comfortably turning around in order to scratch certain delicate parts of himself in need of some morning exercise. Before he could get very far though, he was startled by a sudden noise. It sounded like an explosion – somewhere in the lower parts of the town, and it was accompanied by shrieks of pain. Then there was a blinding flash of white light, and almost instantly a crack of thunder that sent him tumbling out of bed, clutching his suffering ears. Lightning struck again, and again there came the roll of thunder, even as the golden afternoon light turned into murky, blue-grey gloom. 

_Storm? But so fast, how…_

Hastily pulling some clothes on, he staggered towards the window. The sky had gone quite dark, nearly black, and the lightning was still crashing down. There were other noises as well, the explosions he had heard before, and now he could see flickers of fire further down towards the harbor. 

_What the…_

The five pirates running screaming past his window didn’t seem in a mood to fight. This was understandable, given that they were pursued by what seemed to be at least twenty Amnian soldiers, led by a howling…thing. If the thing hadn’t clearly been wearing the typical blue uniform of the Amnian navy, Desharik would have taken it for a rampaging maniac rather than your regular Amnian officer. “Run, puny pirates!” the thing roared, and all the other soldiers roared in chorus with it. “Run from the RAGE of Minsc and Boo until the floppy feet of Evil trips you up and sends you straight into the Garbage can of Goodliness!”

_Minsc? Now why does that name sound so famil…_

But Desharik wasn’t given enough time to gather his thoughts, for now there was the sound of a sharp knock on his front door. 

“Open up!” a voice called out. “In the name of the Council and the Amnian Navy, open up at once!” Almost immediately following this statement, there was a loud crash as the speaker clearly got too impatient to wait and decided to break the door down instead. Moments later, there was the sound of heavy footsteps heading up the stairs. 

“Think I’ll go down without a fight, eh?” the Pirate Lord muttered, hurriedly snatching up his cutlass from the floor. If only he could get past them, into the front room, he’d be able to summon all the aid he could need. 

“On the contrary,” said a cold voice from the bedroom door. “We quite expect you to fight.”

Desharik eyed them warily. One was a big man, with a neatly trimmed brown beard, and was wielding a heavy flail that dripped little sparks of baleful magic onto the floor, making the boards hiss. The other one, the one who had spoken, was taller but not as muscular, and had a rather prominent nose. His triangular hat, along with the gold trim on the shoulders of his blue coat, identified him as an officer of the Amnian Navy. 

“Desharik the Dungeoneer!” the first soldier called out. “You are under arrest, for charges of piracy, murder, slavery, obstruction of justice, Black Lotus trafficking and genocide!”

“Genocide?” asked the officer. 

“An entire colony of peaceful were-asses, wiped out so that this fiend might use their daisy fields to grow Black Lotus. Helm’s Wrath, it makes me want to…”

“Yes, yes,” the officer interrupted, taking a few steps away from the door in order to place a hand on his companion’s arm. “Remember the Code, sir. It would be bad form to bash the prisoner’s head in before he can be well and truly hanged in the name of righteous justice, would it not?”

“Aye, of course, I just…”

_Ha! Now’s my chance, scurvy-ridden fools!_ The Pirate Lord took a flying leap through the door, tumbled across the floor of the front room and got to his feet with barely a bruise to show for it. He reached for the string tied around his neck, and out of his silk shirt he withdrew a silver horn, approximately the size of a man’s little finger – The Horn of Harrowing. For the moment out of the reach of his attackers, he put the horn to his lips and blow, sending forth a mighty TWEET across all of Brynnlaw, a dreadful, piercing sound that managed to get past even the explosions. 

“Ha!” he triumphantly called out to the two soldiers who even now hurried through the doorway, raising his cutlass to hold them off. “My men will rally to me now, and you will always remember this as the day you _almost_ caught Desharik the Dung…urgh?”

“Quite right,” Dekaras said, stooping over the corpse to retrieve the throwing dagger lodged in its chest. “I’ll remember it as the day I killed him instead.” He gave the gold-trimmed blue uniform jacket and white skintight breeches he was wearing a disgusted look. “Uncommonly ugly uniform this, especially the hat – but the girl certainly crafts a fine illusion, I must say.” 

“That she does,” Anomen agreed, picking up the Horn. “Shall we be going then? My Lady Jaheira’s storm seems to be abating, and the others will be expecting us at the docks.” 

The assassin nodded, and the pair of them left, leaving the corpse behind. The soul of Desharik, headed for other and far distant planes, also departed, one final thought occupying it fully. _Bugger it all, killed like that, by a couple of insignificant anonymous soldiers…couldn’t it have been Gelatinous Paladins, at the very least?_

-*-

As the sound of the Horn rang out across Brynnlaw, Zaerini grinned with excitement. “They did it!” she whispered to her lover. “Let’s go, hurry!”

Edwin sent a final parting fireball into a cluster of approaching pirates, and she sent the illusionary soldiers on the survivors, hoping to chase them far enough away. The illusion would dissolve soon enough as it left her immediate presence, but it had done its job well, 

_And so did the rest of us._

As they ran towards the harbor, invisibility spells cloaking their presence, they passed many smoking or still smoldering buildings, and here and there lay the corpses of dead pirates. Not all had been killed by magic of course – horrible wounds clearly showed where Minsc had passed. The live pirates were rallying though, called by the Horn. Some headed uphill, towards Desharik’s home, but others went for the harbor. _Hopefully to open the gates and get ready to meet the ‘Amnian Naval Invasion’. Go go go._

“There you are!” Jaheira called out as they ran up the gangway of the Galante, cloaking spells fading. “Imoen is safe down below deck, and Minsc got back a moment ago.”

“Minsc chased plenty of bad pirates, did Little Rini see? I chased some all the way into the sea!”

“I can see that,” the half-elf grinned, spotting a few floating corpses bobbing near the ship. It seemed not all pirates were very good swimmers. “Are the others back yet? And Saemon?”

“They’re not here yet,” Jaheira said, “But they had further to run after all, so I am not yet concerned.” Then she made a grimace. “And yes, Saemon is here.”

“Ready and willing, my ornery mermaid!” Saemon said, peeking out from behind the main mast. “Crew’s here, we can take off any moment.”

“Not until our friends get here, we will not!” the druid protested. “And you still have not explained why you think we will not be caught.”

“Ah, as to that…” the pirate chuckled, and darted aft to pat what looked like a huge, silver rod, sticking into the water. “Gnomish invention, a masterwork of magical engineering! Once I start it, we’ll fly across the waves like birds and nobody will be fast enough to catch up! Why, the Galante could easily do the Baldur’s Gate Run in just three days now, want to make a friendly bet on it mayhaps?”

“Gnomish invention?! You never mentioned any gnomish invention!” There was a distinct edge to Jaheira’s voice now. 

“Why, my succulent sea-wench, you wound me! You never did ask.”

“There they are!” Edwin called out, pointing towards the city. Rini hastily looked that way, to see Dekaras and Anomen hurrying towards the ship, being chased by around twenty pirates. 

“Can you help them?” she asked her lover, her heart in her mouth. 

“Going too fast,” he said, with a kind of quiet desperation in his voice that filled her with dread. “I could hit the wrong person!” 

Saemon shook his head. “Dearie dearie me…unwanted company. Time to cut the losses, as they say.” His hand reached for the silvery mechanism, pressing a button set into it, and with a great roar some submerged machinery came alive. The Galante almost seemed to hunch down, readying herself for an enormous leap. 

_Gods they’re not going to make it, they’re not going to make it…_

And even then, the cleric and the assassin reached the gangway, managing to jump aboard it just as it magically retracted itself towards the ship. She heaved a huge sigh of relief…and then the Galante’s gnomish contraptions roared so loudly as to dwarf the thunderstorm Jaheira had previously summoned. The ship sped forwards, crashing through the open harbor gates, and they were free, almost free, nearly free, but there was another sound, a scream of terror. Imoen was stumbling across the deck, unreasoning insane panic in her eyes, and before Zaerini had time to react she saw her friend slip and fall, tumbling across the railing. 

“No!” she yelled, and ‘No!” she heard Edwin yell as well. Then she saw why. Imoen hadn’t fallen yet, not quite, but she was hanging on for dear life on the outside of the railing. Dekaras, who had been closer to her than either herself or the wizard, precariously balanced the railing while he reached down a hand to pull Imoen up. 

It would quite probably have worked too, if the gnomish engine hadn’t chosen that particular moment to speed up even further, lurching forward like a panicking wild horse. The boards of the Galante creaked in protest as the ship was pressed almost to bursting limit, and Rini suddenly found herself flat on her face. After what seemed like an eternity, but probably was only a few seconds, she struggled onto her knees and looked around, wiping her streaming eyes clear of tears and rubbing her bleeding nose.

Imoen and Dekaras were both gone.


	157. Tale of Two Cities

**Cards Reshuffled 157 – Tale of Two Cities**

_I don’t exactly have anything against pirates as such. True, most of them will try to cheat you, many will try to kill you, and some have rather revolting personal habits. But in general, they’re no worse than other rogues. The reason why I would never switch careers and take up a life of piracy is the sea. The sea is an annoying outside factor that will always, always try to interfere with your plans, and you usually will not know until it is too late. Besides, any adventurer knows that sea journeys spell disaster more often than not. I should certainly know._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

_You know, when I met the slimy, giggling, utterly mad king of the fishpeople, I never thought I’d meet any other ruler I’d want to smack around more than him. Of course, I didn’t exactly know what lay ahead, which was probably for the best. I will say this for old Fishface, at least he wouldn’t prattle on about how much he really loved his foes before he cut them up for dinner._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Saemon Havarian wasn’t having a very good day so far. True, he had quite happily escaped certain death at the hands of Desharik the Dungeoneer and his not so merry men. True, he had also escaped falling overboard as the Galante showed both crew and passengers exactly what gnomish engineering could do. However, after that his day had rapidly taken a turn for the worse. 

“Look, my fine friends, I’m certain we can sort this regrettable situation out,” Saemon said. Or rather, that was what he tried to say. What actually came out was ‘Glurk? Ggghhhhhh!’ 

“Boo says turn the boat around right now, or Minsc will make bad pirate man’s eyes go pop like a weasel!”

“Glurghglurgh!” Saemon protested, vainly clutching at the massive hand lifting him by the throat so that his shapely legs dangled a good foot above deck level. There was a disturbing hissing sound in his ears, audible even over the crash of waves against the hull, and everybody seemed to be a little blurry around the edges. 

“Put him down Minsc, please, you’re strangling him,” said the cute pointy-eared redhead. 

“Minsc fails to see downside to this?”

The girl smiled, a rather horrible smile that seemed to have far too many and too long teeth in it, and her voice deepened to a growl. “Because if he doesn’t turn this malfunctioning tub around this instant, and if we don’t find our friends again, I want the personal pleasure of using his upper intestine for a skipping rope. And Saemon – I’ll remove it slowly.” There was definitely something weird about her voice, it was getting deeper by the second, and that growl was…

“I…I can’t!” he hurriedly protested as the large man with the blue tattoos on his face reluctantly set him down. “Once the device is activated it will run its course, there is no stopping or turning around until then! Besides, we’re already miles away from them, if they can’t swim it’ll already be too late!” He gulped, as he reluctantly had to realize that perhaps it had been a bad idea to say that. Still there must be something he could say…some way to smooth things over. There always was. “I’ll…er…deduct their fees from your bill, how’s that?” he tried, grinning as best as he could. “Wait, wait,” he added at the sight of the angry faces surrounding him. “I’ll…I’ll let you all travel for free! And I’ll…er…” He desperately tried to think of something else to say, then had an idea. “And I’ll throw in this magnificent magical artifact, as extra compensation!” he said, taking out a silver object he had kept safely tucked into his belt. It was a beautiful silver sword hilt, intricately carved with strange, and hopefully mysterious symbols. “Look, I know it’s incomplete,” he said, “but you can tell it’s special, see?” He pressed it into the hand of the redhead, who gave it a sharp, almost frightened look. Weird. It wasn’t as if she could know about…

“Compensation?” said one of the men, the red-robed mage. His face had gone very, very still, and there was a look in his eyes that made Saemon suddenly long for the safe and soothing feeling of being strangled by a berserker. “You…speak of compensation?” His voice had gone quiet, quiet and almost serene. “You offer _trinkets_?” An elegantly manicured fingernail suddenly pressed hard against Saemon’s larynx, making the pirate cough nervously. “If our companions are not returned to us – if there is even as much as a scratch on them that wasn’t there before, then you will learn all there is to know about compensation. You will learn to compensate for the loss of many things, Saemon Havarian. I will not tell you what they are, I think it should all come as a surprise. All you need to know is that your fate will be…legendary.”

Saemon swallowed heavily and looked around for his men. They didn’t seem inclined to take on the party of adventurers though, and he couldn’t really blame them. It wasn’t as if he’d have done it for any of them. Then he decided to take his chances with the two remaining members of the group, who hadn’t spoken yet. “Ah…my lovely sea-urchin, you wouldn’t let him do that to poor old Saemon, would you?” he asked the druid, offering her his most charming smile. “Aren’t you people supposed to be all into healing, nurturing things?”

“Oh, I am,” the woman said, giving him a cold look. “And I happen to think that your corpse would make an excellent nurturing fertilizer for all the lovely plants below us, not to mention that it would feed many fish whose continued existence matter far more to me than does yours.”

“Oh. Er. And you sir? You’re a Helmite, I can tell from the symbols…nice, law-abiding suck…folks, those Helmites. You wouldn’t just stand here and let them kill me like this, would you?”

“Certainly not,” the cleric said with a brief nod. “The law must be upheld.” He hesitated a brief moment. “Of course, I have studied the laws, such as they are, that apply to these waters, and I seem to remember that intentionally abandoning men overboard is punishable by…what was it again? Walk the board? No, no, plank. Yes, it was definitely a plank. Of course, I know you’ll do everything in your power to help, so that won’t be an issue, will it?”

Saemon sighed in defeat. “Right you are sir,” he said. “Soon as the engine stops, I’ll order the crew to…”

And it was at that moment that Saemon saw the swift grey ships approaching, flying across the waves even faster than the Galante could move, and he knew his day had just gone from bad to worse. 

-*-

The world had become a raging, green inferno, whirling and spinning, with white foam churning all around. Dekaras tried to get his bearings, but it was impossible to tell up from down, and he couldn’t even make out which way the water’s surface lay. Imoen. Have to find Imoen. His lungs were already burning, straining for air, and the currents were dragging him under. There was a vast dark shadow above him, sucking him in. The ship? That meant that way was up, at least. As swiftly as he could, he kicked his boots off in order to be able to swim better, cursing the loss of two really good daggers and a set of small poison darts as he did so. That was a small price to pay for life though. Desperately he looked around for Imoen again, still not seeing her. He had no choice; he had to make for the surface now. 

Unfortunately, at that precise moment part of the Gnomish Device came loose. The water slowed it down considerably, saving the assassin from decapitation. However, it still struck his head hard enough that all he could see was a cloud of spreading stars across a black background. Pain exploded all the way through his head, and he involuntarily took a deep breath of air. 

Sadly, there was no air to breathe. 

-*-

Saemon had to give those adventurers credit for it, they really fought like cornered devils as the ship was boarded. There were all sorts of fancy weapon moves and spells being flung all over the place, flashing and making loud noises, and killing lots of the enemy. It was just too bad that the enemy still outnumbered them by far. 

The grey ships floated silently just above the water’s surface, easily keeping pace with the Galante, and the enemy was swarming across from them like ants. Of course, quite a bit larger than ants, and with much finer weapons and armor as well, which was a bit of a bummer, really. 

“You! Havarian!” a gravelly voice called out. Saemon didn’t turn around. He was quite busy with the creature trying to lop his head off with an oddly curved sword. A grey face snarled at him, far too gaunt and skeletal to belong to a human, and with far too sharp teeth. Black, pupil less eyes bored into his own. 

“Tsk tsk, lad,” Saemon said, dodging a blow. “You’re too easily upset, we’re all friends here, right? Getting upset is bad, it makes you fumble, see?” His sword sliced upwards, neatly severing the other man’s sword hand. “Like that,” he added with some satisfaction as he buried the sword in the thing’s skinny torso. Funny, it bled red, he hadn’t expected that. 

“I see you, Havarian!” the gravelly voice called out again. “You and your friends fight well, but we have you outnumbered. You cannot win.” 

Now Saemon did turn, and what he saw wasn’t a heartening sight. Most of his men were fallen, and still more of the foes were coming on deck. The passengers had cleared many of them out, but he could tell that it wouldn’t be enough. He thought they could too, they had bunched up back to back, probably preparing for a heroic last stand or something equally foolish. The ship creaked ominously, and he worried that she wouldn’t hold under the attack for much longer. 

_Cannot win, mayhaps, my lad. But a draw isn’t too bad, either._

“Look, this is all one big misunderstanding,” he told the speaker in his most winning voice. The creature seemed more richly armored than the others, so it had to be some sort of leader. “Let’s talk about this, hm?”

The skinny grey man raised a hand, and his subordinates briefly stopped, though they still had their weapons raised. “There is only one thing to speak of. Havarian, we are the Sword Stalkers of Vlaakith. You have something in your possession that does not belong to you, that may belong to none but the Githyanki. You have one of the Silver Swords. Give it to us now, and your death will be swift.” 

“Hey, wait a minute!” the redhead piped up. She sounded rather outraged too. “Did you say ‘Sword’?”

“Aaaaahhh, a total misunderstanding, as I said,” Saemon interrupted her. “My good friend, I don’t have any such sword.” He smiled serenely, using a thumb to point at the group of adventurers. “Now, I could be mistaken, but I think I saw something of the sort among the possessions of my passengers here. Sad as I am to have to speak of it, I couldn’t let base thievery go unpunished, upon my honor!” 

“Your HONOR?!” Shouted the Helmite. Tsk. They would always get so loud when upset. 

“It’s only there because you gave it to me, you rotten, bilge-drinking, scum-sucking slimy excuse for a pirate!” the redhead hissed. “So help me, Saemon, I’ll take you down with me if it’s the last thing I…” Then she stopped. “Did you hear that?”

Saemon did. That creaking he had heard before – it was getting louder now. And there was another sound too, growing in volume. An angry, bubbling, growling cry. 

“RWLRWLRWLRWLRWLRWL!” 

Something greenskinned, vaguely humanoid, with plenty of webbings and fins, and with a partially fish-like head, slithered easily across the railing. 

“Sahuagin!” the Githyanki yelled to his troops. “We’re under attack!” 

_And o’course, there’s never just one Sahuagin either._

More of the monsters were pouring onto the unfortunate Galante by the second, attacking the Githyanki with wild ferocity more resembling sharks than anything else. The tortured shop gave a final, heart wrenching groan, and then she slowly started to come apart, pulled asunder by the churning mass of Sahuagin crowded around her hull. 

_Well, one upside to this at least_ , Saemon thought as he hit the water, surrounded by falling friends and foes alike. _There’s a lot of other people for them to eat besides me. Who knows, I might even get lucky._

-*-

Breathing hurt, far more than it should. Hot air was pressing itself into his aching lungs, whether he wanted it or not, and at this particular point in time Dekaras wasn’t at all certain that he wanted it. He kept his eyes closed, trying to get his bearings. Since he hurt all over, he probably was alive. He was lying on something hard and wet, but definitely not in the water anymore. Yes, water…he had been in the water, hadn’t he? Right now, he couldn’t quite remember why, but unfortunately it would probably come back at any moment. And there was something soft pressing against his mouth. Soft and wet and…

The assassin’s eyes flew open, and he found himself staring into a pair of bright blue ones, barely more than an inch or so away. 

“Gah!” Imoen yelped, her lips tearing themselves loose from his with a plopping sound. 

“Imoen?” he tried to say, but at that moment his stomach churned violently, and he coughed up a copious amount of sea-water. When he finally recovered, Imoen was sitting beside him, looking quite worried. She didn’t seem quite as absent as before either. 

“Was I all right?” she hurriedly asked. “It was my first time and everything, but it looks like I got it right, didn’t I? Heh, I bet you couldn’t tell the difference.”

“First time?” Dekaras said, trying to raise his head. Then he dropped it again, because moving it hurt too much. There was blue sky above, and nice little white clouds. Yes, that was good. Think of blue sky, and not about anything else. His clothes were drenched, he realized. Cold and wet. Blue sky, blue sky, blue sky…

“You hit your head really badly,” the girl explained. “You nearly drowned, so I had to do something, there was a book about rescuing people in the library at…wherever it was. I should know. Anyway, I remembered it. You probably shouldn’t move around too much, you know. Say, you got any idea where we are? Last I remember was me giving you a nice present.”

Dekaras reflexively felt one of his pockets. Yes, the hideous Statue was still there, sadly intact despite everything. He suppressed a groan. 

“I just swam for the first bit of land I could see,” Imoen said, then sneezed. “Looks like a really tiny reef. Nobody else around.”

The assassin once again tried to sit up but found that made him come close to blacking out again. “Nobody?” he asked, sharp worry overriding the physical pain. “No ships in sight? No other land? Nobody at all?” 

_They’re in trouble. They have to be, or they’d have come back, and I’m stranded here and unable to do any good. Gods, what could possibly have happened this time to make things worse?_

“Well…sorta,” the pink-haired girl said with a small smile that made Dekaras’ spirits lift a little bit, since it resembled her old one. She pointed vaguely at the water. The assassin managed to turn his head just enough to spot the creatures lounging idly there, lolling about in the waves, grooming their fur and purring with contentment. Their hind bodies were basically piscine, with the tailfins of very large fish. Their front ends, however, were quite clearly feline, complete with slanted eyes, pointy ears, muzzles and wavy green manes. “You know, I think those are…”

“Sea-lions. Yes.” Dekaras grimaced briefly. “Somewhere, I’m certain that some omnipresent being with the sense of humor of a six-year-old still thinks creating those was a really clever joke.” He looked beyond the animals, seeing nothing but sky and sea in any direction. “Strangely enough, I don’t quite feel like laughing.” 

-*-

“Rwlrwlrwlrwl?”

“Aw Daddy, I don’t wanna get up yet…” Rini muttered, trying to curl in on herself in order to stay warm. Had he yanked the covers off her again? If so, it was bound to be followed by…

Cold water splashed against her face, and she sat right up, coughing and sputtering. “Daaaaaad! That’s not…” Then she fell silent. The face in front of her certainly didn’t belong to Gorion. It had large, pale eyes on either side of the head. It had scales and pouting lips, and fins along the neck, and rows of sharp little teeth inside the gaping mouth. “Oh,” she said, suddenly remembering. 

First of all, she looked for her friends, and was relieved to see them also waking up around her, looking wet and bedraggled but none of them seriously hurt. A very affronted looking Softpaws was sitting next to her, dripping wet and looking about half her normal size. There was no sign of Saemon or his crew though. Far worse, there was no sign of Imoen and Dekaras. Right now, there was no time for panic though, not when they themselves were in the position they were in. 

The adventurers found themselves on a round platform, made from slippery green and grey stone. There were walkways leading off in several directions, and the sense of vast space surrounding them. Underwater cave? If so, it has to be really huge. Far off in the distance she could hear the sound of swiftly running water. It was actually a quite beautiful place, or it would have been if it hadn’t been for the natives. 

About two dozen of the fishy folk were standing in a circle around Zaerini and her friends, all of them armed with sharp and nasty spears that they looked quite prepared to use. _The sahuagin – that’s what they’re called. But why would they capture us rather than kill us?_

Two larger sahuagin stood a little apart from the guards, discussing something in their own tongue. Now and then they would turn and look at the captives, but those flat fisheyes didn’t betray what they were thinking. Then she blinked as one of them spoke, for the bubbling noises it had previously made were now completely intelligible. 

“So, can it understand me now, High Priestess? It must be able to understand! The King awaits!”

“I heard you the first time, Feerlattiys. And, yes, I have called on Sekolah to grant these beings the ability to understand our tongue.”

“So... it understands, High Priestess? Is... is it dangerous to us? Shall we be forced to collar it?”

_Hey!_

_Easy, kitten_ , Softpaws murmured in her mind. _There are far more of them than of you. I advise diplomacy right now. Then you can always eat them afterwards._

“The surface beings are varied in their ways, Feerlattiys, but they are quite intelligent. You can, I am sure, speak to the creatures directly.”

At this point, Edwin aimed his most haughty sneer at the two sahuagin, and when he spoke every syllable dripped contempt. “Then you can start by addressing us now, tadpole-thing. How did we get here? (if it can speak at all. Such creatures are known more for the taste of their legs...)”

_Right. Diplomacy. Sure thing._

The two sahuagin stared at the wizard for a moment, and then the one that had been named ‘High Priestess’ spoke again. “I shall introduce myself to you. I am Senityili, Royal High Priestess of Sekolah. And you are in the City-of-Caverns, one of our most ancient places.” She made a small pause. “You are fortunate indeed. Normally, captured land-creatures such as yourselves would find yourselves on our banquet tables, served as a rare delicacy. This once, however, is different. Sekolah has told of your coming in an ancient prophecy, and I have scryed that you are whom the Shark-Father speaks of.”

“Ah,” Rini said. She thought about smiling, and then decided against it. It wasn’t as if fish smiled after all, they probably wouldn’t get it. “Ancient prophecy you say. And all about us? Gee, who would have guessed.”

Senityili was silent again, as if she was listening to some inner voice that only she could hear. “You will come with me now,” she said. “The King will speak to you.” 

“Oh. Right. Lovely, we’re all looking forward to meeting him, because we’re all friends here, aren’t we? Good friends, friendly friends, the kind of friends that don’t eat each other.”

The sahuagin all looked blank. “Is the spell faulty?” muttered Feerlattiys? “One word keeps getting garbled.”

“Nonsense,” Senityili protested. “It is simply lost in translation; it must be one for which we have no equivalent.”

Rini sighed. “Right,” she said. “I can tell we’ll get along swimmingly.”

-*-

“So, these are the... ... these are the strange creatures from the surface? These are the ones you claim... the mighty Sekolah has promised us?” The all mighty Ixilthetocal, King of the City of Caverns, the Right Hand of Sekolah, chortled to himself as his pale eyes fixed upon the adventurers. The King looked much like the other sahuagin, although he was bigger than most, and he wore a silver necklace with many little medallions. They looked like shark fins, Rini noticed. 

“They are, most honored one,” Senityili immediately responded. “The signs are clear.”

“Lies and delusions!” spat another sahuagin. “By the signs granted to me by Sekolah, these creatures are no more than meat crabs, fit only for consumption!”

“Oh hoh hoh,” the King laughed. “How amusing, the priestess and consort of our dear Baron Thelokassyil are of two minds. What say you, little pale shrimp? Are you the creatures of prophecy and the saviors of the City of Caverns?”

_Right…meat crabs or prophecy, prophecy or being eaten. Easy enough._

“Sure, we are,” Rini brightly said. “Creatures of prophecy, that’s us, and generally into saving cities, villages and random hamlets.” Next to her, she heard Edwin sigh quietly, and she reached out to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. 

The King laughed again. “Oh good. Very good! But since our most Holy Priestess are in disagreement, it will need to be proven, little shrimp. A challenge I think…yes. You will fight another strange and deadly land creature, only recently captured by our brave scouts. If you win, we will speak again on what you must do. If you lose, I will find out if you taste good with a sour sauce, delicately flavored with kelp. Do you agree?”

The bard sighed. “I guess so.” _It’s not as if we have much choice. I just hope that ‘land creature’ won’t turn out to be a dragon, or a lich._

“Excellent!” King Ixilthetocal clapped his finned hands together, snorting with amusement. “My most loyal subjects, there will be blood in the water tonight, fun and games for all. Raise your flippers to the sky and say with me – Let’s rrrrrrrrrumble!” 

The arena was basically a circular pit, with a stone floor and drains here and there for rinsing the blood away. Sahuagin sat all around, clapping eagerly as Zaerini and her friends walked inside. On the other end of the pit was a second door, which was only now slowly opening. 

“Guys,” Rini said, not taking her eyes off the door. “If there’s a dragon in there, I’m really really sorry, all right?” Before any of them could reply, the door finally opened with a solemn clank. Then, something emerged from the shadows, something that made the half-elf’s jaw drop open with shock. From the surprised gasps coming from her friends, they were as shocked as she felt. 

_Now…just what in the Nine Hells is that thing?_

-*-

“Strange,” Dekaras mused. “I always thought this was a phenomenon strictly restricted to dolphins.” 

“Well, guess we got lucky for once, huh?” Imoen said, scratching the smooth fur of the sea-lion she was riding on. “Good thing I had some old biscuits left in my pockets, and that they didn’t mind them being soggy.” 

Dekaras nodded. Out of all the ways he had ever entered a port, riding on the back of a…a comical magical mishap like a sea-lion wasn’t one he would have imagined using. Still, it was working. The animals had proved quite friendly, and susceptible to Imoen’s biscuits. _And to her, of course. I doubt I could have coaxed them into this._

The two rogues triumphantly glided into Brynnlaw harbor, careful to avoid what pirate ships were still about. Nobody seemed to be paying any particular attention to them, but there was still a lot of shouting and milling about going on up on the docks. They found a slippery stone staircase leading up from the water and disembarked there. 

“Bye bye!” Imoen called to the sea-lions, waving. “Thanks for all the help! And if you see my sister, let her know where we are, would ya?”

Yes, that was a problem, Dekaras thought as he ascended the staircase. Edwin and the others must surely have noticed them missing by now. So why hadn’t they turned back to look for them? _Something has gone wrong_ , he thought, with the icy certainty of barely checked dread. He should be used to it, after all these years, but no. Every single time, the boy managed to do this to him. _If he’s still alive and merely went off on a lark, I may just kill him myself._

The assassin certainly wasn’t in the sweetest of moods as he finally ascended the staircase to be met with a scene of confusion and general mayhem. There had been battles going on at the docks, and nobody had as yet bothered to tidy up the dead pirates lying about. In fact, there was still the sound of battle to be heard, coming from the higher streets of the city. “We’ll have to be careful,” he told Imoen. “Our first priority should be finding a safe place, and then we can make further plans. I suggest that we…”

At this point, he was interrupted by somebody clearing their throat. The assassin turned around to face a short, officious-looking and slightly pudgy pirate. The man’s sandy blonde hair had been neatly parted in the middle, and he had the eagerly blank face of somebody determined to do their duty no matter what. He carried a clipboard and a very large feather pen. “Excuse me, sir and madam,” he said. “I must point out that Brynnlaw City is currently in a state of flux, meaning that all proper procedures must be maintained in order to facilitate the smooth running of the government.”

“The what?” Imoen asked. “Desharik croaked, didn’t he? I mean, I’m pretty sure I remember that much.”

The man gave her a mildly reproachful look. “Nevertheless, there is protocol and procedure to be followed, especially in these trying times. Now, seeing that you are clearly entering the town from outside, we must take care to ensure you are not, in fact, spies for the Amnian government, hem. I will require you to produce proper documents of identification.” 

“But this is a pirate town!” Imoen protested. “You know, wild and free, that kind of thing?”

The man sighed. “A regretful tendency. I fear these gentlemen shared your point of view.” He pointed at two of the corpses lying nearby. Both of them looked very much surprised, and both of them had been stabbed in the throat with something sharp and pointed. Dekaras gave the man’s large feather-pen a second look. Unconventional weapons shouldn’t be underestimated, after all. 

“Now, if you will please comply, this shouldn’t take very long,” the neat little man went on. “First you must show proper documents of identification as I said, with pictures to verify who you are. Then, you must give your solemn assurance that you are not Amnian soldiers, doppelgangers in disguise, an orcish horde, or door to door salesmen. After the forms have been properly filled in, in triplicate, a mere waiting period of six to ten months should…”

Deep within Dekaras, something went ‘snap’. “You want us to produce proper identification?” he said, his voice utterly calm. “But of course.” He reached inside one of his pockets. 

“Um, Adahn?” Imoen said. “I don’t think…”

“There,” Dekaras said, vaguely aware that he was smiling. Funny, that. “Proper identification, as you can see.” He held up That Statue, actually managing not to wince at the sight of it, and watched the officious little pirate’s eyes widen, and his mouth fall open. Then, he drove the hideous clay object with full force against the man’s larynx, nodding with satisfaction at the neat little crunch and the following pained gurgle that petered out into a final gasp. Regrettably, That Statue had survived intact, which was more than could be said of the pirate. “I think,” Dekaras said as he stepped across the corpse and headed into town, “that we will save filling in the forms for later.”


	158. War of The Fishes

**Cards Reshuffled 158 – War of The Fishes**

_When forced to take sides in an argument where you don’t really like either party, there are still some things that can help you. You can carefully weigh arguments against each other or pick the one most likely to win. Personally, I think it’s best to pick the one most likely to pay up, and least likely to try to make you sleep with the fishes afterwards._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Dear gods, what is that thing?!” Anomen exclaimed, raising his shield protectively. 

Zaerini stared at the large creature emerging from the gate at the other end of the arena. It was somewhat larger than a bear, and it waddled clumsily towards the adventurers, its bright black eyes wild with fear and anger. The half-elf’s eyes wandered from the fluffy tail, over the strong haunches with their webbed feet, from the long and flopping ears to the broad bill. 

“A…duck-bunny?” She hesitantly suggested. 

“Not just any duck-bunny either,” Edwin eagerly assured her. “Look at the size of those marvelous fangs protruding from the bill, look at its size and majesty. This is quite clearly a Dire Duck-bunny. (How I wish I had been the one to devise such a marvelous creature, but in time and with further study I am certain I will achieve similar triumph. A hedge-cow perhaps…or a snake-pony…or why not a vampiric sheep-bat?)”

“Minsc fears no duck-bunnies!” the ranger proudly proclaimed. “For he has the fiercest companion of all, the Giant Miniature Space-Hamster! Go Boo, go!” And he charged the startled duck-bunny, roaring defiance at it. 

“Duck-bunnies…” Jaheira said with a small sigh. “Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve this.” She raised her hands and brought them down with a sharp gesture, and slippery seaweed shot out of the ground, wrapping itself against the duck-bunny’s large webbed feet. 

“Don’t harm it!” Edwin called out. “It is a rare specimen and requires much further study, you blundering brutes! Be gentle with it and…ooof!” This last came from the wizard being hit in the midriff by a flailing duck-bunny foot, the kick hard enough that it sent him sprawling on the ground. “On second thought,” Edwin remarked as he got to his feet, little angry blue sparks leaping off his fingertips, “We could always save the studying until the beast has been introduced to a skilled taxidermist.”

“Quack!” said the duck-bunny, rolling its eyes wildly at the sight of the fire. It reared on its hind-legs, and then took a flying leap out of the arena, trampling fleeing Sahuagin as it fled. 

“Silly sahugain,” Rini said, shaking her head. “If they wanted to have us fight something really scary, they should have set us up against a piranha-poodle.” 

-*-

“So,” King Ixilthetocal laughed. “You have defeated the beast, and better yet, amused me. “It should please you to learn that the Baron’s consort-priestess is being fed to the Mouth of Many Eels even as we speak, and that you are proven the Creatures of Prophecy and pawns of Mighty Sekolah.”

“Well, that’s great,” Rini said. “Just what I’ve always dreamed of. Now, about that prophecy…”

“Of course, you’ll be eager to get started at once,” the King said, clapping his flippers together. “Know this. There is no room for weakness among the sahuagin, and we consume all tadpoles judged inferior, and let only the elect few among us procreate.”

“Ah yes,” Edwin murmured. “Inbreeding has so clearly done wonders for your intellect and disposition; I can see no flaws with this plan.” 

“Precisely!” the King said. “But there are those who…hrrrghh…rebel against the wisdom of Sekolah. Their leader, Prince Villynaty has escaped my wrath so far.” His mouth opened in a wide grin, showing rows of sharp teeth. “He annoys me, so I want you to kill him and bring me his heart. Do this, and I will shower you with riches, and offer you the means of escaping our city.”

_Sent by a fish to catch a fish_ , Zaerini thought. This just keeps getting better. But, best play along, at least for now. 

“Mighty Ixilthetocal,” she said, bowing. “It will be our great pleasure.”

-*-

As the adventurers left the King’s chambers, they were stopped by a small sahuagin, probably quite young still. 

“The honorable priestess Senityili requests your presence in the Temple of Sekolah, for she has important information for you,” it said, and then scurried off, its flat feet making wet noises against the stone floor. 

The temple was in the higher parts of the city, approachable by a towering, impressive, and quite wearisome staircase. It had a square base, and tapered off towards the top, ending in a small platform. On top, there was a white stone altar, currently flecked with dark blood. Senityili stood there, wiping more blood off a knife that seemed to have been made from a single large tooth. 

“The Chosen of Sekolah,” she said, nodding. “I am glad you have come to see me before you leave, for there is much you must know, about the rebel Prince, the King, and the city they both would rule. First, you must know that the City of Caverns lies on top of an entrance to the Underdark, and that the drow and the illithid below are a constant threat. This entrance is in the far end of the city, where the Prince has gathered with his followers. Finding it will be no easy task, however. Long ago, the city was invaded by a powerful drow mage and his followers. He took the Tooth of Sekolah, the talisman needed to open and shut the entrance, and he hid it in the fortress he built for himself at the southern end of the city, left empty as our numbers have dwindled. The drow is dead long since, but the Tooth remains hidden, guarded by traps and terrible monsters. You must find it if you wish to enter the Underdark.”

“Too bad,” Rini said, crossing her arms. “There are lots of places I’d like to go for a holiday, but the Underdark just isn’t one of them.”

The priestess’ eyes gleamed. “You are mistaken,” she said. “I have seen him…Sekolah has shown him to me in my dreams, as he has shown me you. Though he intends to travel further, for now the man in the leather mask hides deep in with Underdark, in a city of the drow. There, you may find him.”

The half-elf shivered, and she felt her hands tremble a little. _Irenicus. She knows of him._ “What must I do?” she asked. 

“Find the tooth, as I have said. But there is one more thing I would ask of you.” Senityili’s voice grew even harsher with anger. “Surely you must have seen that our King is mad. He has slaughtered too many of our kind, and now our bloodlines grew thin, as there are too few of us left to breed strong tadpoles. We desperately need the Prince and his followers, to instill new blood into our people. I will give you an orb that will let you access the Prince’s part of the city. Take it, go there, and speak to him. After that, make your choice, and know that we will not be ungrateful if you help us.”

Zaerini silently held her hand out to receive the orb. It lay cold in her palm, glowing with a pale red light. As she looked into its depths, she almost thought she could see a face, a masked face with eyes the blue of a winter sky. 

_I am coming._

“If you can really see as much as you claim, and will really be that grateful,” Rini said, “there’s something I want to ask of you. Two of our friends were lost at sea just before we were brought here. We need to know what has happened to them.”

The priestess gave her a long, measuring look. “I will pray to mighty Sekolah for guidance,” she said. “When you return, I will tell you what I have learnt.”

-*-

“Do you think she can be trusted?” Jaheira asked as the adventurers left the temple of Sekolah behind. “The sahuagin are not known for their gestures of friendship towards other people.”

“Maybe not,” Rini said. “But she wants our help, and I can see no real reason why she’d want to lie to us.” She looked out across the glittering waterfalls and the soaring green spires of the city. “And I had to ask. I refuse to believe that they…. that we won’t see them again, but we need to know.”

“Can you not use your own gift as well?” Edwin asked. The wizard looked pale and anxious, and she sought out his hand and clasped it, drawing as much comfort as she was given. 

“I’ll try, but it takes time to prepare, and I don’t really dare take that time now, not when the King may suddenly decide to snack on us after all.”

“Yes, there is that,” Anomen agreed. “I would not place enough trust in him to believe him to keep his promises. Unfortunately, we do not know if this Prince Villynaty is any better.”

“Yeah, I know. We’re just going to have to play it by ear, I think. Let’s find this tooth first, and then see where we go from there.”

Minsc nodded eagerly. “Minsc’s Witch is very wise. If the Evil Fishmen try to harm her, Minsc and Boo will tear their ears off and use them for a Miniature Giant Space Hamster bathingsuit!”

“Er…thanks Minsc, sounds lovely. Only, sahuagin don’t really have ears, do they?”

The large man nodded earnestly. “Minsc and Boo will get _creative_.”

-*-

“Please remind me to never, ever again go on an adventure with no rogue in the party,” Anomen said, wincing as he pulled an arrow out of his shoulder. 

“Why Anomen,” Jaheira said, smiling. “Whatever would your compatriots in the Order say if they could hear you now?”

“My lady, I do not know, and at the moment I do not much care. Not after having had boulders fall on me, being impaled on a stake, covered with acid, shot, poked, pinched, crushed, burnt, not to mention nibbled by enraged electric eels.” 

“Well, it was you yourself who suggested it,” Jaheira calmly said, running her hand across his shoulder, knitting the wound together with a healing spell. “In the absence of anybody capable of finding and disarming traps, you said that a strong and reliable person in heavy armor would be best suited for taking the point. And you were quite right too.”

Anomen sighed. “I was?”

“Yes, my dear Anomen. And we do all appreciate your brave sacrifice.” The druid’s smile turned more tender. “I will make it up to you, somehow.” 

“Oh…well, it is…that is…barely hurts now,” Anomen stuttered. His cheeks had gone faintly pink, Zaerini noticed, and she couldn’t quite help from smiling herself. 

_That really is sweet. I hope it works out for them. They both deserve it._

After a while, and after much more clerical suffering, they had eventually bypassed all the traps left in place by the long since dead Drow mage. The walkway they were following now led onto a round plaza, with a tall green building at the other end, dominated by a set of black double doors decorated with prancing seahorses. In front of the doors sat three imps, playing cards. As they noticed the adventurers, they fluttered into the air on tiny, batlike wings, peeping eagerly. 

“Ooooh, big ones!” one of them chirped. “Fun, fun!”

“Big ones!” said the second. “Come to play with us?”

“Play!” the third filled in. “Play fun fun games!”

“How despicably adorable,” Edwin muttered. “Can we please kill them quickly? (Those voices drill directly into my poor brain.)”

“Oh, come on, Eddie!” Rini told her lover. “I think they’re cute.” She looked at the imps. “Say, have you seen a thing called the Tooth of Sekolah somewhere around here?”

“Nope!”

“Nope nope!”

“Nope nope nope! But Spec might know.”

“Mean old Spec!”

“Grumpy Spec!”

“Boring doesn’t wanna play with us Spec!”

Jaheira nodded. “And I take it this ‘Spec’ is inside the house?”

“Yup! Sure is!”

“But you can’t go inside! Spec doesn’t like it.”

“But maybe…we let you inside, yes? If big ones are friendly.” 

The imps spun around in a circle, dancing in a circle round the adventurers. 

“If you play!”

“Come play with us!”

“Come play our game!”

“Oh, fine,” Rini said, running her fingers through her hair. “I guess we can play your game. What kind of game is it?”

“Is easy!”

“Is fun!”

“Coffins all around in circle, with things inside. Famous big things standing in a ring, each has lost one. Give them their things back, and you find key to doors.”

The imps all giggled, and there was a crackle, and a puff of smoke. When it cleared, Zaerini could see several small boxes in a circle on the ground. Behind each one, there stood a person. Some of them were complete strangers to her. But two…two…

_Oh CRAP! Not them!_

“Look,” Zaerini hurriedly said, “I can explain everything. And it will be a really good explanation too, one you’ll remember for years and years afterwards and…”

“I am Drizzt Do’Urden. A noble outcast from my former people, the Drow, I wander the lands, striving ever to do good.”

“Yeah, I know that, and you know about that business with your swords, it was really…”

“I am Elminster. A wise old wizard and do-gooder, and very original in all ways, as original as my pointy hat.”

“Hey?” the half-elf said, waving her hand in front of the elderly wizard’s and the Drow ranger’s faces. Both of them just stared blankly ahead, not reacting in any way whatsoever. “Can you hear me?”

“You need not concern yourself over them, my Hellkitten,” Edwin said, looking rather smug. “They are merely replicas, simulacrums of some kind. Observe.” He poked ‘Elminster’ sharply in the chest. Again, there was no reaction. 

“Oh,” Rini said, blushing. “I knew that. Well, sort of.” She cleared her throat. “Right…so they’re replicas of famous people, are they? And the chests contain items that belong to them. Let’s get on with it then.”

As it happened, the task didn’t prove very difficult at all. There was some paladin and his helmet, an attractive woman with a necklace, a mage introduced as ‘Khelben Blackstaff’ with, yes, a black staff, Drizzt of course had a replica of one of his swords and Elminster…

_It really looks just like the real thing_ , Zaerini thought as she placed the long and gently smoking pipe in the coffin before ‘Elminster’s’ feet. _Whoever made it knew their business. Why, it even smells like the real thing. And that sword, that looks exactly like the real thing too, I could swear it was the same one, it sparkles just like it._

So fascinated was she by the replicas that she barely noticed the coffin in the middle of the ring open, or the howling wraith that emerged from it. Nor did she pay more than cursory attention to the laughing imps containing the undead, forcing it back into its place while one of them swiped a silver key from out of the coffin. 

“There you go, big ones!” one of the imps said, bobbing up and down with excitement. “You can go see mean old Spec now!”

“And aren’t we the lucky ones,” Edwin remarked. He lazily traced a sign in the air with one finger, and the glowing words ‘Horrid Wilt Me’ appeared directly above ‘Elminster’s’ head.

_The Knight of Coins…that was Saemon. He said I should go with him or I’d regret it later. And then he showed me…something…there was something in his hand…_

“Child?” Jaheira touched her elbow. “Are you well?”

“Huh?” the bard said, startling. “Oh. Yes, thanks. I was just thinking. You go ahead.” 

The druid gave her a measuring look, but she didn’t protest. Zaerini stood motionless for a moment longer, and then she smiled a quick smile and reached her hand out. 

_Oh, what the heck. You never know when it might come in handy._

“I wonder what’s inside?” Rini said a little later, carefully pushing the door open.

“A fearsome and dangerous beast, no doubt,” Edwin said. “Perhaps a dragon, or yet another lich. (Am I the only one beginning to find them very common and tedious?) I suggest we let the meatshield go in first again.”

“Rather that than skulk behind others!” Anomen hotly protested. 

“A wizard never skulks. He merely takes up a strategic position behind his minions.”

“Um, guys?” Rini said, stepping inside. “Could we move along, please?”

The wizard and the cleric gave each other a hasty look, and then hurried forward, both of them trying to get through the door at the same time. After a bit of scuffling, and a lot of cursing, they eventually made it. 

The house was really only one room, empty of all furniture. In the middle of the floor there stood another one of those black coffins, and directly behind the coffin floated a very large beholder. It was nearly as big as the Unseeing Eye had been, and it had all the requisite eyestalks and nasty protuberances. Oddly enough though, the look in all those eyes wasn’t one of malice, but rather of boredom. 

“Oh, visitors,” it said. “Now that’s nice. All this time with nothing but those annoying imps and the mad little Drow for company, it’s enough to drive you nuts.” It floated a little closer. “I see you hesitate. You have met my kind before, I take it?”

“What, beholders?” Rini said, her voice just a little shrill. “Oh yeah, lots. Charming guys they were too, really charming.”

“I seriously doubt it, you know. Most of them are just so very ‘Rarrrrrgh, me smash puny humans!’. Or petrify, fear, or death ray, as it were. But I’m a Spectator Beholder, so no need to worry. I was summoned here to guard one item and one item only, so unless you try to touch that chest behind me, you’re perfectly safe.” 

Rini looked behind the Spectator to see that there was indeed a black chest on the ground, a rather small one. The lid was closed. “Right,” she said. “Good.”

“Oh. That reminds me.” The beholder yawned, showing rows upon rows of pointed teeth. “I promised the little Drow I’d try to scare off anybody coming here.” The center eye widened a little, and the other eyestalks waved lazily in the air towards the group. “So…booh.”

“Terrifying beyond belief,” Edwin dryly remarked. 

“Hey, why don’t _you_ try being stuck in a dead-end job for years on end with nothing but imps for company, and see how motivated you get to increase your work performance? The best part of it has to be when the mad little Drow told me to ‘work smarter, not harder.’”

“How exactly do you do that?” Anomen asked. 

“Dunno, basically I spend the time playing tic-tac-toe and ‘Eye Spy’ with the imps. That has to be smarter than actually getting worked up about the job description don’t you think?”

“So…” Rini said. “Any chance you’d let us have what’s in the chest then?”

The Spectator gave her a many-eyed disapproving look. “Sorry kiddo. A contract’s a contract.”

“But…”

“What? Are you in desperate need, or something? You have a dying relative that desperately needs what's in this chest? OH, I get it! You just HAVE to have what's in this chest, right? Because if a Beholder's guarding it, it HAS to be cool! Keep in mind that the Drow who summoned me was mad. But, hey, who am I to judge, I suppose. I've been playing tic-tac-toe with a pair of imps for sixty years. Oh... in case you didn't hear an answer in that: no, you CAN'T look at what's in the chest. The Drow specifically summoned me to guard this chest.”

Edwin took a step forward, smiling smugly. “Hold on, creature. Tell me... did this drow wizard summon you to guard the chest or what's _in_ the chest?”

The Spectator gave him a thoughtful look. “Hmmmn. Well, he screamed 'my chest', as I recall. A spear was being thrust through his own chest at the time, though, so he could have been referring to that. I assume he was talking about this chest, though. And that means I can't let you open it... or do anything to it... even if I'm not guarding what's inside.”

“Aha,” Edwin said, and his smile widened a little as he folded his hands within the sleeves of his robe. “You are clearly a fine, law-abiding beholder, one who would never break a contract. Just what I would appreciate in a conjured guardian.”

“Aw shucks. Well, one does one’s best, you know.”

“Indubitably. So, since you are merely guarding the chest itself, and not what is inside, clearly your dead master would have no objection to _you_ opening the chest for us, so we might have a look at what’s inside. The important thing is that we do not touch, harm, or in any way abscond with the chest itself, is it not? (Ah, logic. Such a wonderful weapon it is.)”

The Spectator was silent for a moment. “Hey, you’ve got a point there,” it said. “What the heck. I’ve been wondering what’s inside that thing for years now.” It reached out a tentacle, and carefully lifted the lid of the chest. “Tell you what, I’ll turn my back and you can have a look. Just don’t touch the chest or I’ll have to eat you all. Rawr.”

Zaerini eyed the beholder nervously, but since he showed no sign of intending to attack, she stepped forward and looked inside the chest. There was a small, white object lying on the bottom, and she carefully lifted it out. _That’s the Tooth of Sekolah? It’s so…small._

_Well_ , Softpaws suggested, _maybe it was a baby tooth._

The Spectator seemed similarly impressed. “That’s it?” he snorted as he turned around. “That’s what the drow was screaming about as if his life depended on it? Oh well. You take it, have fun with it in some obscure two-eyed freakish way. I guess I’ll just settle down and resign myself to guarding an empty chest for forty more years. Yay.” 

“Ha!” Edwin said. “As a wizard, I can tell you that the Drow would never wish that. There is no point in guarding an empty chest, beholder.”

“Huh. You know... you're absolutely right. Not even that Drow mage would want me to guard an empty chest. It's not even a nice chest.” The Spectator floated high in the air, and then eagerly zoomed around the room. “There's no way that the Beholder Council, bloated bladder-bags that they are, would hold me responsible for this contract! I... I'm free! Free!! Yippee! FREE! And it’s all thanks to you, you lovely two-eyed freaks!” It floated up to Edwin, eagerly threw some of its tentacles around the protesting wizard’s back and hugged him closely. “So long, you clever little apples of my eyes! What to do now…Hmmn. The Underdark is near here, isn't it? That means a female beholder can't be far. And that means... well, never you mind.” 

The Spectator floated out the door and away, humming merrily to itself. Edwin hurriedly brushed himself off and straightened his robes. “Ah, yes,” he said. “Yet another creature falls to the impeccable logic and fine diplomatic skills of Edwin Odesseiron, the Grand Negotiator…”

Then, he fell silent, as Rini stepped right up to him, put her arms around his neck and drew his head down for a long, warm kiss. “I love it when you’re being clever,” she whispered into his ear as they finally drew apart to breathe. “Don’t you ever change, Edwin Odesseiron.”

“Well, naturally not, why install flaws into perfection and…” He fell silent, looking directly into her eyes, holding her closely. “I won’t.”

“Even if I do?”

“Especially then.” 

-*-

_Deep within the Underdark…_

Jon Irenicus stood on a balcony, overlooking the vast city beneath him. Thousands upon thousands of tiny lights, shining out of the darkness. So many little lives, so utterly insignificant compared to those who truly mattered. He turned away, and looked deep within the floating, silver dish that hung in the air before him. 

“Are you adjusting to it?” he asked. 

Bodhi’s voice came back at him, filled with lazy enjoyment. “Mmm, yes. I had nearly forgotten what having a soul felt like, my brother. This will take some time getting used to.”

“Indeed, it will, but I find the learning process pleasurable.” He smiled, behind the leather mask. “Your little ally has things well in hand?”

“She does.” Bodhi chuckled, a deep, rich laughter. “I doubt you will find more entertaining company in the Underdark, Joneleth.”

“I am not here for social purposes, Bodhi, as you well know.”

“I know. Shame, it might loosen you up some. Well, I’m doing my part here. What about you? Has your proposal been well received?”

Again, Irenicus smiled, his skin crackling in the darkness behind the mask. “Plans have been set in motion. It is only a matter of time now, Bodhi. Soon, very soon, we will go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A duck-bunny is, or at least was in 2.5 DnD an official monster, as silly as it may sound. That is enough to bring a smile to my face even in dark days. Also, something quite important happened in this chapter, though it will be a long while before it becomes clear.


	159. Rapid Succession

**Cards Reshuffled 159 – Rapid Succession**

_It’s a funny thing how many people spend their time worrying about how to become King, or Emperor, or Grand Muffin of the Outer Stars or whatever. What they should really worry about, of course, is how they’re going to stay King after they get there._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“So, you would join the glorious Sahuagin People’s Army Of Liberation?” Prince Villynaty said, somewhat skeptically. The Prince was a large Sahuagin, with especially thick whiskers. He was wearing a rather tacky golden cloak that seemed to have been sewn together from seaweed, he carried a tall trident, and he was constantly chewing candied starfish. Most of the time, a stubby little starfish arm would be sticking out of the corner of his mouth. “What makes you think you can aid the Righteous Revolution?”

“Well,” Zaerini said, “It’s not really that we’re that much into your revolution, you see. But then again, we don’t really have any reason to help the King kill you either.” She paused in thought. “Or not apart from him promising to let us go afterwards and rewarding us. Supposedly only the King can get us out of the city.”

“That is correct, surface-dweller.”

“Then again,” the half-elf said with a small grin, “It doesn’t say anything about _who_ the King needs to be, does it?”

The Prince snorted with amusement. “True,” he said. “And a new King, one less erratic than the old one, would also be more likely to keep such a promise. Tell me, how did our current Sovereign want you to prove my death to him?”

“He wanted us to bring him your heart,” Edwin replied. “Not exactly original and rather tacky. (At least it wasn’t a head this time. I’m so fed up with lugging severed craniums around.)”

“My heart?” the Prince mused. “That is easily fixed. One Sahuagin heart looks very much like another, and by the time he can have any divination spell cast on it, it will be far too late.” He beckoned to one of the guards standing near the door. “You there. Fetch us a Sahuagin heart, a fresh one. Go at once, in the name of the Revolution!”

The guard snapped a crisp salute before marching out the door. After a few minutes he returned, bearing silver box. The Prince gingerly opened it and nodded with satisfaction. Rini just managed to catch a glimpse of something red and steaming inside. 

“Yes, very good,” Prince Villynaty said. “This will do.”

“Dare we hope that heart came from a Sahuagin who by a strange coincidence just happened to die peacefully and painlessly in bed this very moment, surrounded by his loved ones?” Anomen asked, looking disgusted. 

“If that makes you feel better,” the Prince replied. “Whoever he was, you may be certain he gladly died for his People, Justice, Freedom and the Revolution.”

_Yeah_ , Rini thought. _I bet he was given a few alternatives that made that one seem right pleasant._ She didn’t say that out loud though, but simply took the box, making certain not to look inside before she had shut the lid firmly. “So, we turn this over to the King,” she said. “Exactly how will that help you do anything you couldn’t have done already?”

“You will see,” the Prince said. “Now go, surface-dwellers. When the time comes, we will be ready.” 

-*-

“Yes…oh yes!” King Ixilthetocal crowed, his eyes gleaming happily as he looked inside the silver box. “You have done it, my clever little minions. The Prince is dead, and now there will be none to challenge my rule. The mighty Sekolah will be pleased.” He waved imperiously at the adventurers. “Come, you will attend me as I descend the steps to His temple, where I will sacrifice the usurper’s heart to His mighty jaws.” The King marched towards the door, nearly stepping on Softpaws who leapt aside with a hiss, dodging between the Sahuagin’s webbed feet. 

_Careful Softy_ , Zaerini warned her familiar. _Don’t want him to get mad._

_What do you mean ‘get’, kitten? And you’d better keep up._

Certainly, the King was moving quickly. He’d snatched up a beautiful trident, decorated with pearls, petrified starfish and one very terrified lobster, and was waving it about happily. “Ha ha! It’s good to be the King! Guards, away with you, get going. I want you to rally the plebs and do it at once.”

The tall Sahuagin bodyguards looked with some consternation at their ruler, but evidently found it better not to argue with his whims, and so took off. However, a small female Sahuagin entered from a side passage just as they were departing. Her flippers were immaculately groomed, her scales a rosy pink deepening to dusky red near the bases, and her black, lidless eyes sparkled like still and stagnant ponds, deep within hidden caves. 

“Father!” she trilled in a light, musical voice. “Whatever are you doing? Why are you sending the guards away?”

“Be silent, Smarmiel,” the King said. “These are my trusted minions, who will see me safely to the Temple, where I will perform the Ritual of Heartbreak. Now, where exactly have you been?”

The young Sahuagin pouted. “Out.”

“Doing what, young lady?”

“Stuff.”

“Oh, ‘stuff’ is it?” The King bared his impressive array of pointed teeth. “You’ve been out looking at sunken ships again, haven’t you? Playing with surfacer things? You’ll stay away from them, or you’ll go where any other disobedient offspring of mine have gone, directly onto my dinnerplate!”

“Oh Daddeeeeee, that’s so gross.” Smarmiel proudly displayed a delicate, handheld mirror to her irate father. “Look, I found this on one of the ships! I call it a Tinkly-Winkly, because that’s the noise it makes in my head when I chew on it.”

_Yeah. Nothing like inbreeding to really spice a family tree up._

“Enough!” the King roared, batting the mirror out of his daughter’s hand. It landed on the floor with a resounding crash. “You will seize this pining after surfacer junk, stay put under the sea where you belong and spawn a few thousand young to replenish my armies. And you’ll like it too!”

“You brooooke my Tinkly-Winkly!” the redscaled Sahuagin wailed. “You’re mean, and I HATE you! I’ll show you! I’ll go find myself a cute human and spawn thousands of tentacled young with him, and they’ll make an army all of my own and then you’ll be SORRY!” 

_Don’t look at us, don’t look at us, please dear Gods don’t look at any of us…_

Mercifully, the young Sahuagin completely ignored the adventurers, and instead stormed out of the throne room of the City of Caverns, slamming the door shut behind her. 

“Kids, heh,” the King said, shrugging. “Should have eaten her long ago, but she’s my favorite so what can you do? Now let’s be off, my trusted minions, we have a Prophecy to attend do, don’t we?”

“Yes,” Rini said. “I guess there is that.”

-*-

The stairs to the Temple of Sekolah seemed even taller this time around. Zaerini and her friends stood uncomfortably at the very top, looking out over a veritable hissing, blubbering and writhing sea of Sahuagin. The King stood by the altar at the top of the stairs, the High Priestess at his side, and he was raising the dripping heart high in the air. 

“Behold!” he bellowed. “The treacherous heart of the Rebel Prince Villinaty! No longer will he threaten my rightful rule. Mighty Sekolah, accept my offering!” He dropped the heart onto the altar with a soft, wet little thud. 

For a few moments, there was silence. Then, a deep, low rumble, a tremor shaking the ground. It was almost inaudible at first, but it grew quickly, until Zaerini had to press her ears tightly shut with her hands, and even so, the pain was still intense enough to force her to her knees. Then, suddenly, it stopped. The heart lying on the altar burst into flame, burning with a sick, putrid green flame. 

“What?” the King said, sounding hesitant for the first time. “But the Omens…the Prophecy…”

“Were not made for you, old one!” another voice called out. Prince Villinaty was marching rapidly up the stairs, six strong Sahuagin following behind him. “The mighty Sekolah won’t settle for second best – as you’re about to find out.”

“No!” King Ixilthetocal wailed as the flames leapt across to him, and his flesh started smoldering. “No! I…am…the King…”

Prince Villynaty watched with hungry and eager satisfaction until it was all over, all but the thick smell of fried fish. Then, he bent down to pick up the fallen trident. “The King is dead,” he spoke. “Long live the Revolution and King Vil…ergh?”

And he toppled backwards, tumbling down the stairs, even as a red spot slowly bloomed across his breastbone and flecks of pink foam escaped his choking mouth. He was dead long before he reached the bottom, but it took the body some time longer to stop twitching. 

“Up there!” Jaheira shouted, pointing in the direction the crossbow bolt had come from. “The Royal Palace.”

And true enough, there she was, perched on the railing of one of the palaces many balconies. Smarmiel idly put the crossbow down, and stood, addressing the stunned crowd of Sahuagin. “Podmates!” she called out. “Sahuagin! Citizens of the City of Caverns! Sekolah’s will is clear.”

“Perfectly clear, your Majesty!” the High Priestess responded, and her voice rang as loud and clear as a bell. “Sekolah has spoken! The old King is dead, and with him his old ways of weakness and corruption. So is the new King, with his war and strife. Now the citizens of the City of Cavern may face our true enemies, the Drow and the surfacers, and strengthen our people through an outsourced breeding program, including other colonies. And it will all be done under the wise leadership of our new Queen, Smarmiel the First, as Sekolah has decreed.”

“Word,” the Queen agreed. “You sort out the details, ‘kay? Got some stuff to do.” She disappeared into the Palace again. 

“And the will of Sekolah has truly been made flesh in these surfacers, the instruments of prophecy!” the High Priestess went on. “Truly they have earned their reward as well as glory! Everybody, let’s hear it for the…”

“No, no, no, no…” Edwin muttered, wincing with pain. “Please don’t say it, please don’t….”

“…Heroes of the City of Caverns!”

“RWLRWLRWLRWLRWL!” the Sahuagin cheered, even as Edwin sagged against his lover with a look of utter despair on his face. 

“There, there, Eddie;” Zaerini sad, squeezing his hand tightly. “At least they’re an Evil city, I’m pretty sure of it. Does that help make it better?”

“Not really,” he sighed. “But I appreciate you trying. Now, can we go get that scrying done and get out of here before something worse happens?”

-*-

It wasn’t the first time Saemon Havarian had been lost at sea. When you were a man who was always careful to keep the upper hand, it occasionally led to some people being upset with you, after all. Walking the plank was always a favorite, as was marooning you on remote desert islands. Losing his ship though, that was worse. He’d been really fond of the Galante, and she’d served him well. Now it would probably be some time before he could get a new one. 

Saemon sighed, yawned, and leaned back against the improvised raft made of wreckage he was currently drifting on. At least this was a fairly major shipping route, somebody would probably pick him up soon, and he had enough water for a couple more days. Now, all he really lacked was some pleasant company. Some nice lass, preferably. He’d always been lucky with the womenfolk. 

“Rwlrwlrwlrwl?”

A cold, scaly hand clasped his wrist in an iron grip, and the startled pirate suddenly found himself looking into a flat, red-scaled face with far more tentacles than he cared for. They almost seemed to be…reaching for him. The sparkling trident pointing at his throat didn’t help improve the first impression at all. 

“Urgh?” Saemon said, trying not to make any sudden movements. 

“Hello,” the Sahuagin said, grinning widely at him. Were the tentacles…waving? “I’m Queen Smarmiel. And _you’re_ gonna be my Prince Charming.” 

-*-

_Meanwhile, in Brynnlaw…_

“We could stow away on one of the pirate ships?”

“Possibly, but it would be dangerous. If we were discovered, it would be the two of us against a crew of very angry pirates, a scenario that I frankly don’t feel optimistic about.”

“Ya don’t think I could charm them? Look at this smile; wouldn’t any pirate kill for this smile?”

“As charming a smile as it is, I would rather not put it to the test.”

“Aw. All right, we could…go search through that place again. You know, for magical doohickeys. Something that could help.”

“Yes, I thought about that. But I do not want to bring you back into Spellhold, not unless we have absolutely no other option.”

“I’m better now, really. Sort of. I mean, I can cope.”

“I know that. All the same, I would prefer not to put extra strain on you.”

“Oh. Um, sure, I guess. Say, wouldn’t it be great if there was some friendly dragon here, or a gnome in a magical flying device, or…or a kind fairy godmother to spirit us away?”

“Certainly,” Dekaras said, suppressing a small sigh. “Unfortunately, also highly unlikely.” _Not to mention that any fairy godmother of mine would be prone to bring misfortune and misery rather than rescue._

The assassin was sitting at a small table, near the one grimy window that faintly illuminated the room he and Imoen had been forced to take after their return to Brynnlaw. It wasn’t in the Vulgar Monkey, it was in an even lower, seedier and more obscure tavern named The Crustacious Codpiece. From what Dekaras had seen of the clientele so far, he suspected the name had been aptly chosen. Sharing quarters with Imoen wasn’t exactly proper conduct; he mused, but there had been no other option, since leaving the girl alone and unprotected was clearly out of the question. At least there were two beds. 

‘Sides, Imoen had said with a hint of her old smile, there’s enough rats and roaches in here to be chaperones for a dozen people. Dekaras had actually laughed at that – and he was greatly relieved to see her slowly starting to return to sanity. Of course she was wounded still; her soul needed recovering without delay, but at least it seemed as if there might now be time enough to do so. 

_Assuming, that is, that we can first get off this bloody rock._

Dekaras had come to the unfortunate conclusion that Edwin and the others could not be expected to return for them. First of all, it would be very dangerous to do so, due to the violent escape from Brynnlaw. Secondly, if they had been able and intending to return, they would already have done so. 

_And I refuse to believe that they are dead. It is only natural to worry, but I must not let it weigh me down into uselessness._

No, that simply wouldn’t do, and he suspected Imoen felt much the same way. They had decided that since they had no idea where to look for their friends, their best option would be to return to Athkatla, and from there try to determine the location of Suldanesselar. At least it was highly likely that their friends would also take that route so that they might reunite later. First, they needed to leave Brynnlaw though, which was proving annoyingly difficult. 

_There will be a way. That I haven’t found it yet doesn’t mean there isn’t one._

“Hm,” Imoen mused, thoughtfully chewing on a lock of her pink hair. “I think I remember Rini telling me something about one of those nasty Cowlies…one who lived in town. Think we could trick him to get us out of here, maybe?”

“Regrettably not,” Dekaras said with a rueful smile. “The keyword, as you said, was ‘lived’. He and I did not part on friendly terms.”

“Oh. Darn. Well, we can still go check his house out, can’t we? Maybe we’ll find something useful in there.”

“Maybe we will,” the assassin agreed. “And, at the very least it will make for a change of scenery.”

-*-

It was later that evening that the two rogues set out on their mission. The house where the Cowled Wizard had once lived was on the outskirts of Brynnlaw, and even though they could hear the nighttime noises of the town, they encountered very few people. They walked casually past the house, not seeing any guards posted outside, nor indeed any activity at all. 

< _Of course, it is a very lawless place_ , Dekaras mused. _Even if the pirates have discovered him by now, they may not care about finding his killer._

Having reassured himself that the coast was clear, he beckoned Imoen forward. The back door was still unlocked since he had let himself out what felt like ages ago. As they stepped inside the darkened kitchen, it quickly became clear that the wizard was still present, and in a very ripe and nasally intrusive manner. 

“Eeewww,” Imoen whispered, wrinkling her nose. She looked a little pale, but she was still keeping her composure well. “What’d you do to him, drown him in the privy?”

“I fear that is merely the tenant himself assaulting your nostrils. It has been a few days, after all, and the weather is fairly hot. Try the mint oil, it should help.”

“Right,” the girl said, vigorously dabbing a few drops of bright green oil under her nose. “Yep, that helps, much better now. Wish I’d had this stuff back when I lived at Candlekeep, you should have seen Ulraunt’s socks. Well, I say seen, but I mean smelled, really. You’d think a wizard could at least magic his feet clean.”

“Fascinating a character as this ‘Ulraunt’ may be, I believe I would have gladly bypassed the opportunity of sniffing his feet. Now, shall we get started? Don’t bother with the cellar, that’s where I put our host, right at the bottom of the stairs.”

“Had a bad fall, did he?” Imoen asked with a fierce grin. 

“Quite bad. I counted three bounces.”

“Broke his neck from it?”

“That would be too unsure a method. His neck was broken before the fall, so as not to take any chances. Of course, afterwards nobody could have told the difference.”

Imoen’s teeth were a white flash in the dark. “I like it! So, treasure hunt through Mr Cowlie’s stuff then?”

The assassin nodded. “Indeed. Just try to be careful with anything unusual that you find – this is a wizard’s home after all, and it would be a shame if you turned us both into frogs.” 

The Cowled Wizard, it seemed, had taken a broad approach to research. Books on all conceivable arcane subjects, from Necromancy to Divination, cluttered the bookshelves. There were test tubes and beakers, burners and mortars, all laid out on a cluttered alchemy desk that had been deeply scarred and burnt by experimental potions. There were depleted wands jumbled together in an old umbrella stand shaped like an elephant’s head, and a rack of amulets hanging on the wall. Dekaras viewed those with interest for a while, until he had deduced that they were all fairly useless, granting only such benefits as ‘Protection from Authorial Intent’, ‘Public Privy Finding’ and ‘Pug Repelling’. Certainly nothing worth weighing himself down with. The same had to be said for the stuffed alligator hanging from the rafters, looking down at him with a glassy stare. 

_Why is it always alligators, I wonder? If I happened to have a magical laboratory, I would certainly prefer something a little more tasteful for a ceiling decoration._

“Hey!” Imoen’s voice drifted down from the upper floor. “You’ve got to come see this!” 

As the assassin came upstairs, he found the girl practically dancing with excitement. “In here,” she said, scurrying into the bedroom. Dekaras cautiously followed her, his eyes glancing over the broad bed with its lacy curtains. There were stuffed toys sitting on it, about a dozen of them, all very crudely sewn. Not fluffy bears and kittens either, there were far too many tentacles and mandibles for that. 

“This is it,” Imoen said, pointing at the large wardrobe standing in the corner of the room. It looked quite old, the wood was dark and polished, and there were little carvings along the top that Dekaras couldn’t quite make out. She pulled the door open, proudly holding her arms out. “Ta da!” 

Dekaras looked inside. There were several magerobes hanging there, a tattered old dressing gown made from purple velvet, a very ugly pointed hat with stars sewn onto it, and an inordinately large number of fur coats. That seemed a little odd, given the mild climate of Brynnlaw, but still not worthy of any excitement. 

“I suppose some of them might be used as disguises,” he remarked, “but I hardly think they will help us get off the island.”

“No, no, not the clothes. Behind them, see?” Imoen eagerly pushed the coats out of the way, and behind them was not the wooden back wall of the wardrobe, no. There was light, the green light of a forest in spring. Far in the distance, Dekaras could swear he could hear birds singing. 

“Isn’t it amazing?!” Imoen gushed. “I only went a little way inside, but it’s…you’ve gotta come see this!” Not waiting for a reply, she jumped inside the wardrobe, hurriedly pushing her way through the coats until she disappeared from sight. 

“Imoen, wait!” the assassin warned her. “You don’t know where it goes!” There was no reply, she either wasn’t listening or had gone too far to hear him. 

_I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?_

But there was no choice. Abandoning her was out of the question. With a small sigh, Dekaras stepped inside the wardrobe, carefully feeling his way towards the light. Before he had gone three steps, the birdsong was loud and clear. Before he had taken five, he could smell flowers. Before he had taken seven, he could hear the soft ‘click’ of a door falling shut behind him. 

-*-

“Your friends seem safe enough,” the High Priestess said, standing up from her scrying bowl. “Do you wish to see more?”

“No!” Edwin hastily exclaimed. The wizard had gone quite red in the face, and a muscle in his cheek was twitching nervously. “No, no, no, that will do! (I cannot believe it, that little minx is after him again? Why would he encourage her, why?)”

“Hey, that’s my sister you’re talking about!” Zaerini said, giving her lover an annoyed look. “And I can’t believe he’d take advantage of her crush like that, not when she was finally getting over it.”

“Of course he wouldn’t! He would never do anything other than be perfectly gentlemanly; anything else is out of the question! (Could she have got her greedy little hands on a love potion, I wonder?)” 

“Eddie, don’t be silly! Immy wouldn’t do that. I think. Probably. Anyway, maybe there’s a perfectly natural and innocent explanation for the two of them stepping into a wardrobe together.”

“They haven’t come out yet,” the Sahuagin priestess helpfully added. “I could turn on the darkvision, if you want to get the details…”

“No!” both the bard and the wizard cried out. 

“Well then, if you’re satisfied that your friends are alive and well, shall we move on to the other boon you requested?” The Priestess’ smiled, baring her pointed teeth. “If you are ready to depart from the City of Caverns, the entrance to the Underdark has now been opened for you.”

“Yay,” Rini said, sighing. “I can’t wait…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A part of me feels a little sorry for Edwin and his latest Hero title. The greater part of me just really, really enjoys messing with him. 
> 
> As for Dekkie, 'Protection from Authorial Intent' is of course exactly what he should have picked up, but given I am the author I couldn't very well let him. :)


	160. There’s No Place Like Gnome

**Cards Reshuffled 160 – There’s No Place Like Gnome**

_Tempting as it is to focus on the main adventure, the experienced adventurer knows not to scoff at side quests. Basically, they offer extra opportunity to kill things and take their stuff, thus enabling you to get more powerful and kill even bigger things and take THEIR stuff, until you can finally kill the Big Bad Evil Guy you’re really after. Then you make a cat tray out of his skull. Oh, and take his stuff._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“So, this is the Underdark, then?” Zaerini looked around, not feeling particularly impressed. The faint magelights bobbing above her and Edwin’s raised hands didn’t provide much light, but enough to show that they were in an empty cavern, with tunnels leading off in three directions. True, it was dark, but there was nothing remarkable about it to separate it from other cave systems she’d been in. “I don’t know,” the bard went on, shrugging. “I’ve read all these stories about the Underdark, and they all made it seem so exciting. This isn’t any more exciting than…than the Mines of Nashkel.”

“Pray that we run into nothing more fearsome than kobolds,” Jaheira said, frowning at her. “I may never have been to the Underdark, but I know it is not a place to be careless.”

“Come to think of it, has even _one_ of us been to the Underdark before?”

“No, my lady, though my travels have taken me far and my adventures in the service of the Order were educational, I have not. Now, if we were talking giants…”

“Minsc cares not for light or dark! Where Minsc’s Witch points, Minsc will go, with Boo bringing Hamster Havoc on all our foes. I do not know what ‘havoc’ means, but Boo tells me it’s a good thing to bring foes.”

“Hellkitten, you need look no further, for you are in the presence of Edwin Odesseiron, Master Navigator of cave systems great and small. Fortunately for us all, I am endowed with a supreme sense of direction that shall lead us safely to our goal.”

“Boo says ‘lead us to our doom’ is more likely. He has offered to sing the Doom Song, which Minsc doesn’t know but is sure to be bouncy.”

“Um, thanks Minsc,” Rini said, looking up at her large friend. “I think we’ll wait a bit with the singing, just in case there is worse than kobolds down here, you know.” She looked at Jaheira who was now heading for one of the tunnels. “You know the way?”

“No,” the druid calmly stated. “But though the air down both tunnels stinks, this one does not smell poisonous at least.”

Having followed the tunnel for a while, the adventurers eventually reached a second, larger cavern. In the distance there was the sound of dripping water, and you could get the sense of a large open space, but the darkness was too compact for them to see very far ahead. 

_I really don’t like this_ , Rini thought. _We could wander around here for weeks, without getting any closer to Irenicus._

_You could use your cards again_ , Softpaws replied, curling up in the half-elf’s arms. 

_I suppose so. It’s just that they don’t always give all that clear answers. But I guess it’s better than hoping to get lucky and running into somebody we could ask for directions…_

“Ooooh my, you’re tall ones!” a piping voice said, just below her right knee, and she startled, accidentally treading on something soft. “Ow!” it yelped. “It hurts, it hurts!”

“Sorry,” Zaerini said, looking with interest at the small creature jumping around holding onto its left foot. “I didn’t see you there.” It looked like a gnome, if an unusually small one. He was completely bald, and paler than his surface cousins, with large eyes currently streaming with tears. “Look,” the bard went on, “I’m really, really sorry, all right? Say, who are you, and what are you doing here?”

“Me?” The small being looked up at her in surprise. “Why, I am Gaggle, Gaggle Dripweed, and I’m here gathering mushrooms. See?” He held up a small basket, filled with fat white mushrooms. “But you’re strange people…almost as strange as…as…” He shivered suddenly, and a look of fear crept into his bulbous eyes. 

“As…?” Rini prodded. A flash of intuition sparked through her mind. There was no reason for it, no logical reason, but all the same… “This strange person you mentioned – it wouldn’t be a man in a mask, by any chance?”

“Yes!” The little gnome cowered on the ground, his hands trembling. “Not an honest svirfneblin like me no, not a duergar or drow, or even one of the tentacly ones, but worse, worse...”

“Excellent,” Jaheira said with a feral grin. “And this man in the mask, do you know where he went?”

“Oh yes, I do, but you can’t follow him!”

“We can and we will,” Anomen firmly stated. “That man is a criminal of the worst kind, and he must be apprehended and dealt with.”

“No, no, you don’t understand, I mean you _can’t_ follow, not where he has gone.”

“Why?”

Gaggle twined his fingers together and shook his head. “Because he went into Ust Natha, the city of the Drow. If you go there, you will all die.”

“I don’t suppose there is any chance you misspoke just now?” Edwin asked. “You meant to say ‘City of Kobolds’ didn’t you?”

The svirfneblin looked at him as if he’d gone mad. “No, no!” he said. “Bad place, lots of Drow! They’ll kill all who come near their Black Gates, honest!”

Rini sighed. “I don’t have a choice,” she said. “If that’s where Irenicus – the masked one – has gone, then I must go after him. Can you take me to those gates, maybe? Or just give directions?”

“Yesss…” the gnome admitted. “But it’s dangerous, far too dangerous, too many Drow.” He grinned suddenly, his eyes twinkling. “Maybe you come to my village of Gnome-Again instead? Mayor Gandolan is wise, yes, maybe he can help.”

_I don’t trust him_ , Softpaws stated. _He smells of need and fear. He wants something._

_I’m sure he does, Softy. But hearing what they have to say can’t hurt, can it?_

_Just be careful, kitten. He’s too small and squeaky, and for small and squeaky things to survive in a place like this, they must be very sly. Don’t let him trick you._

_I won’t, I promise._ The half-elf smiled slightly, feeling a hint of warmth lick at the back of her mind. “Lead on,” she told the gnome. “We’ll see your Mayor.” _And if he tries to trick us, I’ll make him very sorry for it._ Her smiled widened a little, as she saw the gnome fidgeting. _Heck, I’ll probably even enjoy it._

-*-

The svirfneblin village Gnome-Again was only about half an hour’s walk from where they had run into Gaggle, up a gently sloping incline and across a bridge that spanned a deep crevasse. For a second or two, Rini had a mad urge to drop a few rocks down the pit, but she managed to resist it. _No telling what might be down there, and I bet it wouldn’t enjoy being woken up._

The village itself wasn’t particularly large. It consisted of around a dozen low, round houses, made from what looked like hardened clay. Their roofs were rounded as well, making them look a little bit like gigantic clay mushrooms, and their windows were tiny. _Which makes sense, I guess. No sunlight to let in._ Those svirfneblin that were out and about in the village looked nervously at the strangers, and kept well out of their way, but Mayor Gandolan was another matter altogether. The plump gnome watched the adventurers with great interest, and as they briefly explained their errand his fingers toyed with the silver medallion that hung on a purple rope around his neck. 

“It is true, if you go to Ust Natha you will surely die,” he said. “Unless…”

“Unless what?” Jaheira said, scowling at the gnome. “We have no time or patience for mind games.”

“There is one who might help you,” Gandolan admitted. “The Lady Adalon, who lives not far from here. She has powerful magic; she might think of something. If she agrees to help you, that is. She may not want to.”

“Provide us with directions to her,” Edwin flatly said. “She will be persuaded. (I will not stand idly by, not when there is still a masked mage that needs flaying, burning, exploding, tenderizing, mincing, quartering, evaporating, devastating, conflagrating and generally killing.)”

“I might,” Gandolan said, winking quickly. “But there’s just this one little favor I’d like to ask of you first. You see, the Lady lives past a dark tunnel, too dark to navigate. When we go to see her, we use a special Light Gem. I might let you borrow that – if you help us first, that is.” 

_Kill him. Rend his flesh, tear and bite, warm blood, quivering flesh…_

“That’s blackmail,” Zaerini said, surprised at how thick her voice sounded. The heat was growing inside and were her fingernails lengthening? She forced the beast, the Slayer, back inside. _Not now. Not yet._

“Business only,” Gandolan said, taking a step back. “Anyway, aren’t you…er…adventurers? Don’t you people live for doing quests for people in need?”

“There are adventurers, and then there are adventurers,” Edwin said, and a small flame idly danced from one of his hands to the other. “This might be a good moment for you to learn the difference, gnome.”

“Aw, but Minsc wants to help the little gnomes!” Minsc protested, patting Gandolan on the head. “Gnomes are little and cute like Boo, but have a fearsome bite just like him, oh yes. Also, Boo says there may be treasure.”

“Fine,” Rini curtly said. “What is it you want us to do, Gandolan?”

“Ah…” the svirfneblin said, coughing. “You see, we were digging for mith…I mean mushrooms, yes mushrooms, a little way out of the village, and we…well, we dug too deeply. We awakened something, a Terror of the Deep!”

“Oh, this story is bound to have an extremely surprising ending,” Edwin said. “You may spare us the local color, the ancient legends and all the amusing anecdotes. Simply tell us what it is, where it is now, and how best to kill it. Make us sufficiently motivated and we may not kill you as well out of sheer tedium. (Though it is tempting. Some formaldehyde and a large jar, and he would make a perfect decoration for my laboratory back home.)”

“Erm…” Gandolan said. “We don’t quite know what it is, I’m afraid. The svirfneblin who were digging in the area nobly sacrificed themselves by collapsing the tunnel, so none of the survivors actually saw the beast.”

“Well, how do you know it is still in there then?” Anomen asked. 

“We can hear it, howling and cursing. It sounds very angry, and we don’t understand even half of its curses.”

“So, if it’s that well trapped, why can’t you just leave it there?” Jaheira said. “That would seem the safest course to me.”

“But…but the mith…I mean mushrooms! Yes, the finest of mushrooms, succulent and juicy!”

“Oh, give it a rest,” Rini said with a sigh. “Just tell us where to go, and we’ll go have a look at your beast. But just so you know, you’d better not expect us to move the rocks as well.”

“Excellent!” Gandolan said, clapping his hands. “Oh, and before you leave, apart from being Mayor I’m also the town’s provider of life insurance, would any of you be interested in purchasing any? Very fine cost-benefit plan, very fine, you can pay in gold, gems, or mush…I mean mithril, what do you say?”

The snarl that escaped Zaerini’s mouith at that surprised even herself, but she grinned fiercely as she saw the gnome stagger backwards. “No,” she said. “Just take us there. Now.”

As the nervous gnome scurried off, she followed, whistling a merry tune. _I feel better than I have in days. Maybe the Underdark won’t be so bad after all._

About half an hour's walk from the gnome village there was a dead end. A side tunnel had been completely blocked by giant boulders, medium-sized rocks, and a vast amount of gravel.

"It seems to me we have come upon the tiny, yet significant flaw in your masterful plan, midget," Edwin told Gandolan. "Just how exactly did you intend for us to get past all of this, in order to reach your fearful monster?" He briefly examined his nails. "And if you intend to use the word 'shoveling', then know that I may take you up on it with your vast maw for a shovel."

"Er...no, no, of course not," the svirfneblin replied. "Goodness me, no, we're not that technologically backward, you know." Then he clapped his hands. "Svirfneblin! Bring out the piglet!"

There was a metallic rumble, and then the sound of heavy footsteps, accompanied by a creaking snort. Then, something appeared at the other end of the tunnel, a vast shape that loomed far above the adventurers, nearly blocking out what little light there was. Dim red eyes glowed above a metal snout, and cloven hoofs made the ground shake with every heavy step. The apparition was covered with metal plates from its broad snout to its curly tail.

"By the Oakfather!" Jaheira exclaimed, craning her head back. "What is that...thing?"

"This," Gandolan proudly stated, "Is the Widget of Iron Girth, Glad Leveler and Easer of Stone. You can call him Mr Wiggles for short, we all do."

"Wow," Rini said, staring at the enormous metal pig as it bent its head towards the rocks blocking the path, easily pushing them out of the way. "That's really something, isn't it, Eddie? Eddie?"

Edwin was staring at the pig, a dazed and happy smile on his face, and he barely reacted when his lover waved her hand in front of his face. "Want..." he whispered.

"Um, maybe next Solstice, how's that? If we all live that long. Gandolan, how come you made it look like a pig? I didn't think there were pigs in the Underdark."

"Pig?" Gandolan asked, forced to shout to make himself heard over the din of crumbling rocks. "We simply made him the most efficient and devastating shape we could imagine, what is this 'pig' of which you speak?"

"Oh, never mind. Couldn't you just use him for killing the beast in the tunnel though? He seems big and tough enough for it."

"Well," Gandolan hesitantly said, "we could. But Mr Wiggles really is built more for sustaining damage than dealing it out, and there is the matter of the mith...mushrooms! Yes, the poor delicate mushrooms, they could easily get permanently damaged!" He quickly wiped his face with a large handkerchief. "Look, he's almost done! Are you all ready?"

"Minsc and Boo and friends are always ready for hero work," Minsc stated. "A Hero must always be ready for hero work, even when he's asleep, or eating, or when he's on the..."

"Yes Minsc, thank you, that will do nicely," Jaheira said. "We are ready, Gandolan."

Gandolan took a few steps backwards. "Svirfneblin!" he yelled. "Scatter!"

The svirfneblin obeyed instantly, and so quickly that Rini couldn't help wonder if they were half cockroach, what with the way they scurried off into the corners. The mechanical pig slowly backed away, having now cleared a reasonably large opening through the rubble.

"Well," she sighed. "Here goes, then."

"I do not like the idea of us climbing into that dark aperture, mylady," Anomen said. "No matter what manner of beast awaits inside, it would instantly gain the upper hand." As if in answer to his words, there was a deep, wet snarl from the dark tunnel.

"Good point," the bard agreed, "but in that case we'll need to coax it out somehow." She suddenly grinned. "Then again, that could be fun." She deftly hopped onto one of the larger boulders, peering inside the tunnel. "Hey, you in there!" she called out, waving her arm in front of the opening. "Yes, you! You're no scarier than a fluffy bunny, are you? Some monster you are, to let yourself get trapped by little gnomes. Think you can take me? I don't think so, I bet a stuffed moose head could do more damage than you." She waited expectantly for a moment, until she could hear a sound, the sound of scuffling, soft, and yet heavy footsteps approaching. There was another snarl, closer this time, and she leaped clear just as the remaining boulders were hurled aside, crashing into the tunnel walls.

"What is the matter with you?!" Edwin spat, yanking her aside by the arm. "Do you have a death wish, or are you simply electing not to use the brain I know you have?"

"Hey, it worked, didn't it? Besides, I..."

But there Rini fell quiet, for the inhabitant of the tunnel was slowly emerging, crawling across the fallen rocks. There could be no doubt in any of the adventurers’ minds that he was a demon. The tall, muscular form, the curved horns, the fangs and claws, the leathery bat like wings, malevolent eyes, they were all hints towards this fact. What made him a tad unusual as demons go, was what he was wearing. The demon stepped across a particularly large boulder, the red and white striped socks on his feet slipping gently on the gravel and glared at the party of adventurers with red eyes. The thirty odd socks of all colors dangling from the belt encircling his waist swayed gently with each step, and certainly the tiny fluffy pink baby sock hanging from a chain around his forehead was distracting enough. What was really, really worrying however, was the One Sock. It was long. It was gray. It had a small hole on the heel. It was very, very prominently placed, and Rini found herself quite unable to look away from it. Part of her wished it would go away, but then she realized that would mean seeing the demon without the Sock, which was surely a far worse option.

"Ah, hello there," she hurriedly said. "And who might you be?"

"I," the demon roared, towering over her, "am Tamufel of the Ninth Level of the Abyss, and I am not in a happy mood!"

"That would appear faintly obvious," Edwin murmured. "At least if one discounts body language."

"I really, really wish you hadn't said that," Rini told him, still staring at the Sock. "So, Tamufel. You're a demon, are you?" _And we're going to have to fight him, aren't we? Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap._

"I am the Demon of Lost Socks," Tamufel growled, nodding. "Did you ever wonder why it is that you always lose at least one sock each time you do laundry? All my work, serving to spread frustration, anger, and ultimately more Evil among mortals. It's not all fancy work like War, and Plague, and...and Coveting your Neighbor's Ass, you know. Some of us do real work, the groundwork of Evil, as it were."

"Of course," Jaheira said, sounding a little faint. "And what of the...ah...the..."

The demon looked down at himself, leering. "That is the One Sock you eventually find and never, ever want to wear again since you don't know where it's been."

"I know where it's been now," Rini said, still staring blankly at the Sock. "Weird thing is, that doesn't seem to help at all."

“Minsc doesn't understand,” Minsc said, scratching his bald head. “Why aren't we already fighting the Evil Demon? Boo says he isn't just Evil, he's a Walking Fashion Disaster who needs to have his socks knocked off.”

“Is that so?” Tamufel said, in a voice that could best be described as frosty. “Well, as little as I like having to sully myself with anything less than the blood of a worthy infernal foe, I suppose that insult means I must destroy you all. Incoming Hellfire...let me see...radius of 50 yards should do it...”

“Wait!” Rini hastily called out. “Let's not be hasty about this! There must be another way to settle this.” _Especially since I know there's no way we could possibly survive an outright battle with this guy, at least not yet._

“And what would that be?” Tamufel asked, arching his eyebrows. “Please don't insult my intelligence by suggesting a game of chess. Only devils go for that kind of thing.”

“No, no...not that. See, if you'd rather fight a demon, we can fix that. Eddie here will conjure one up, and you can fight it, see? And if our demon wins, you get out of this place, never come back, and don't bother us or the gnomes again, right?”

“My lady?!” Anomen said, his lips barely moving as he kept his eyes fixed on the demon. “Are you sure this is entirely...”

“Hmm...” Tamufel said. “Yes. I would agree to that. And if I win, it goes without saying that I will eat you all. Of course, I could do that anyway, but if I win, I also get to keep your souls. Are we agreed?”

“Um...” the half-elf said, hesitating. _It's fine by me I guess, seeing I don't have a soul at the moment, but the others..._

“You've got five seconds to decide.”

“But I...”

“I'll take that as a yes,” the demon said with a broad grin. “Present your demon to me.”

Zaerini turned to her lover, a helpless look on her face. “Eddie? You know how you promised not to try any demon summoning unless all of us asked you to? Well, I guess this is it. Please tell me you've got the spell for it?”

The wizard straightened his back with a smug smile. “I most certainly do. It would ill suit the greatest wizard of all if he were unprepared for such a situation as this, would it not? (Besides, I knew the opportunity would come sooner or later, oh yes. Memorizing the spell needlessly for dozens of days in a row is all worth it now.)”

“And we all want you to use it too,” Rini hurriedly went on. “Don't we, guys?”

There was a murmur of general agreement from the party.

“Then so I shall,” Edwin said with a grand flourish of his robe. He began carefully drawing a circle on the ground with a bright purple crayon, scattering some sort of dust in lines across it like the spokes of a wheel. “Demon! Prepare to tremble at the unparalleled might of Edwin Odesseiron, supreme lord among demon summoners! (I only wish that Teacher Dekaras could be here to witness my ultimate triumph.)”

“He never did this before, did he?” Jaheira whispered into Zaerini's ear.

“Ah...I don't really think so, no.”

“Lovely. Perhaps if Anomen and I pray fervently enough, our deities will intervene enough to save our souls from the Abyss.”

Anomen turned towards her, a startled look on his face. “Prayer...” he muttered. “Yes, prayer, I think a little of that might prove helpful.” As he closed his eyes, a soft, white light spread out around him, surrounding the group. “There,” he said. “Perhaps that will at least save us from being eaten by whatever monstrosity the wizard conjures up, if not from the other one.”

Edwin, in the meantime, had finished his circle. He was now standing outside it, his arms raised high, murmuring an incantation with a look of utter concentration on his face. As it finished, he brought his arms down sharply, and the circle began to glow steadily. There was a sound too, a distant keening, coming closer though it was impossible to tell exactly where it was coming from. A cloud of purple smoke coalesced inside the magic circle, gradually becoming solid.

“AHA!” A shrill, piping voice yelled from inside the cloud. “FREE AT LAST! ALL WILL FEAR FIFI, OVERLORD OF EEEEEEEVIL!”

The smoke evaporated, and Zaerini stared at the creature standing inside the circle. It was, without a doubt, a demon. It had an ugly, purple-skinned and wrinkled face, twisted into a perpetually sour look and framed by two large and floppy ears. It had a small potbelly drooping over its stained loincloth, and it was wielding a miniature pitchfork in one clawed hand. Unfortunately, it also came up to about the level of her kneecaps.

Edwin was staring at the tiny demon, his mouth open. “But...” he started. “I didn't mean...”

The little demon snorted with glee, capering about the magic circle. “Free, free, freeeeee!” it shouted. “FiFi was stuck under mean old Demogorgon's foot for ever so long, but he is freeeeee! FiFi is freeeee! Tremble mortals, as you find yourselves in the presence of FiFi, Overlord of Eeeeevil, Lord of the Sheep!”

As Edwin finally got his voice back, he pointed an accusing finger at the demon. “You,” he stated, “are clearly defect! I specifically ordered a menacing demonlord, and this is what I get! I want a refund, and I want it now!”

“Sooo...” Tamufel said, baring his fangs in an expectant grin. “Are you all ready to duel then?”

Edwin swallowed hard, and then turned to the small purple demon. “You there,” he said. “FiFi. This is our foe, Tamufel the Corrupter of Socks, and as I have conjured you, you are bound to...”

“What's that you said?” FiFi asked, his shrill little voice so sharp it grated in Rini's sensitive ears. “Socks you say? SOCKS!”

“Well, yes, and what he does is...”

“SOCKS! Vile molester of my innocent Sheep! Tearing the wool from their bodies, shaping it into garments destined to soak up the pungent stench of humanity!”

“That is one way of putting it, yes. (I cannot believe I am holding this conversation.)”

“He shall pay,” FiFi said, and his little purple face screwed itself up into a look of horrible concentration. “He shall pay dearly! SUPER NIBBLE SPIN ATTACK!” With a horrible screech, he launched himself directly at the larger demon, his sharp little teeth attaching themselves firmly to the One Sock, and, presumably, to its contents.

“ARRRRRGH!” Tamufel screamed. “Get it off, get it off, get it off! I give in, mercy, Uncle, white flag!”

“That will do, FiFi,” Edwin said. There was a rather smug smile on his face, that made Rini felt wonderfully warm inside. “The nasty molester of Sheep is leaving, aren't you Tamufel?”

“Argh! Yes yes yes!”

“FiFi, escort him back to the Abyss. After that, you are free to leave as you please.”

There was another puff of smoke, accompanied by a loud bang, and the two demons disappeared, though you could still hear Tamufel's screams gradually fading away into nothing. After a brief silence, Edwin grinned triumphantly, his arm sneaking around to encircle Rini's waist and hold her close.

“Hellkitten?” he asked. “Am I, or am I not, the most excellent, superior, wonderfully skilled demon summoner you have ever encountered?”

The bard couldn't help laughing, and for a little while, it seemed the darkness inside of her faded a little and gave way. “Yes, Eddie,” she agreed, her lips seeking out his. “You certainly are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the Underdark adventure begins. During this part of the story I was trying to show how the loss of Rini's soul is beginning to affect her, gradually making her both reckless and more ruthless. It's something I wish would have been more empathized within the game itself, and I so I was definitely trying to make it come through.


	161. Adalon

**Cards Reshuffled 161 – Adalon**

_Just because a creature is technically 'Good', that doesn't mean it might not turn around and eat you if you get on its wrong side. The difference is it will probably have better table manners and not desecrate your remains afterwards._

_Excerpt from 'Ruminations Of A Master Bard'_

“So...” Zaerini said, looking down the wide and pitch-black tunnel that lay before her. “Anybody else feel a bit worried that Gandolan wouldn't say anything else about what this 'Lady Adalon' is like?”

“Mildly,” Jaheira remarked. “But unless she should turn out to be another demon, I will be content.”

“Look, I said I was sorry about that! I didn't exactly have a lot of time to think, and it all turned out well, what with everybody still keeping their soul.” The bard leveled a slightly sullen glare at the druid from under her fringe of bright red hair. “It's not that big a deal, is it?”

“Not that big a deal?! We could have all ended up like...” But there Jaheira broke off to briskly clear her throat. “We will speak no further of it at this point,” she said. “Just be more careful in future.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. Can we go now?”

“Unless we are to return and blast all the gnomes to smithereens for sending us on such a preposterous errand in the first place,” Edwin hopefully suggested. Granted, he had gotten to summon a demon and thus display his superior skills at conjuration, which was good, but he still had a bone to pick with those gnomes. He looked over at his lover, and saw her eyes light up with amusement, but then she shook her head.

“We'd better get going,” she said. “Maybe later, eh?” She took out the Light Gem Gandolan had given them and held it up in her palm. It was about the size of a plum, quite smooth, and it glowed with a bright yellow light that penetrated even the dense darkness of the tunnel. “For now, let's go visit Adalon.”

They walked in silence down the gently sloping tunnel. Edwin noticed that the floor was quite smooth, and that the air smelled clean. There was a faint hint of sharpness to it, like ozone. It reminded him of the crisp sensation just after a lightning storm. What was beginning to concern him now though, was that there was still no other source of light than the gem.

_What manner of person would live in such a place? Especially in the Underdark._ He started going over his mental catalog of Underdark denizens, and unfortunately soon realized that every single possibility he came up with was more murderous and malevolent than the one before. _Yet the admittedly foolish gnomes seemed to trust her and come to no harm from her._ It was a puzzle, and it was beginning to annoy him. Moreover, there was something about this tunnel, something very familiar. He obviously hadn't been here before, but it seemed to him that he had been in a place just like it, and that it hadn't been a pleasant experience.

“Look!” Minsc said, pointing. “There is light ahead, down below! Poor Boo, no longer will he need to squint his keen hamster eyes to scout out any evil that might threaten us.”

Edwin looked where the oafish berserker pointed, and sure enough, there was light. Pale, silvery light, coming from a spot where the tunnel opened up into a larger cave. Something scratched at the back of his mind, a memory trying to make itself heard. He trailed a little after the others as they filed into the cave, trying to think.

“Wait,” he said, raising his hand. “I think this Adalon may be a...”

“WHO DARES ENTER MY LAIR?!”

“...dragon...” Edwin finished, craning his head backwards to look up at the enormous creature towering above them all.

Adalon was large, at least as large as Firkraag had been, and as she was currently half rearing up on her hind legs her head came almost up to the cavern ceiling. She was the color of the moon, a pure and shining silver, and her eyes a cold gray. All in all, very beautiful, so beautiful that it almost distracted him from the vicious fangs currently being displayed, or the way she was opening her mouth, taking a deep breath.

“Wait!” Zaerini hurriedly called out, having probably noticed the same thing. “We don't mean any harm! Are you Adalon?”

“I am,” the dragon said, her voice reminding Edwin of a clear but very large bell. “As you are not Drow, you are yet alive and will be permitted to speak. But I have little patience with intruders, especially now. Speak quickly! Who are you, and what do you want?”

“She's not going to try to kill us then?” Anomen whispered to Jaheira, who bent closer to respond.

“Silver dragons are known as forces for good, unlike their chromatic counterparts. We should be safe.”

“Color coded for convenience,” Edwin said with a faint snort. “All very nice and tidy, unless she should decide we pose a threat and decides to eat us all in the name of Righteousness. (At least with a Red you know exactly where you stand.)”

“We need to enter the city of Ust Natha,” Zaerini explained. “The gnomes above told us you might be able to help us do that.”

The dragon's head swiftly bent down, ending up at a level with the half-elf, gazing sharply at her. Edwin felt his fingernails digging tightly into his palms and forced himself to relax. _Please be careful._

“Ust Natha?!” Adalon said. “Why?”

The bard's face tightened, and we she spoke there was a cold edge of pain in her voice, one that eerily reminded Edwin of the dragon. “There is a man, a masked mage. His name is Irenicus. He stole something of great importance, from me and one other, and he's inside that city right now. I need to find him, but we can't fight a whole city of Drow. If the gnomes are right, you can help us. Can you?”

Adalon peered closely at the woman before her, an odd look in her cold, shimmering eyes. “I can,” she said. “And I might do so, but only if you do something for me first.”

“Us? What could we possibly do for a dragon?”

“Quiet!” the dragon snapped, and little clouds of steam rose from her nostrils. “Don't interrupt me, and I'll tell you. First, you should know that Ust Natha isn't just any Drow city. It is ancient, and it marks the place where the dark elves first descended into the Underdark, to become what they are now. There is a temple, above, and I was appointed the guardian. It is my task to stand in the way of the Drow, to keep them from invading the lands above. I have fulfilled this task, until now.” She raised her head again, and the steam rose higher. “Irencius! Curse the day I first lay eyes on him! He came here, and he tricked me! He stole my precious eggs; he stole my children! He brought them into Ust Natha, and now I dare not move against the Drow, or against him. I can't do what I should, or he'll kill them. I dare not even leave this cave, or they might notice me missing and guess.” The smell of ozone grew stronger, and as Adalon's claws scraped against the cavern floor, they gave off shining sparks. “But you. You may not have the wisdom or the nobility of mind a dragon possesses, but your kind has a certain low cunning. You can go inside Ust Natha and rescue my eggs.”

“Gee, thanks,” Zaerini said, rolling her eyes. “But my low cunning makes me want to point out the teensy flaw with this brilliant plan. We're not Drow. They'll tear us to pieces the moment they see us.”

Adalon snorted dismissively. “Dragons possess magic you cannot even begin to dream of. I can disguise you all as Drow, an illusion powerful enough that it will extend to sound, sight, even touch. You will be indistinguishable from true Drow, unless you botch things yourselves. That way, you can enter the city and rescue my eggs.” Her eyes narrowed, and she bared her teeth briefly. “Perhaps you think it might be a good idea to accept my terms, and then ignore my eggs. I assure you, it's not. If you renege on your part of the contract, I will know. If I lose my eggs, I will have nothing further to lose, and I will find you no matter where you go.”

“The pretty lady dragon needn't worry,” Minsc proudly stated. “Minsc and Boo and friends are all Heroes, and Heroes don't break their promises, no sir. Boo may fib a little when he tells Minsc he didn't eat the last cookie, even with crumbs in his whiskers, but no worse than that. Even the Evil Wizard wouldn't, and if he did little Rini would spank him so hard it wasn't funny.”

Edwin closed his eyes briefly, trying very hard not to hear Anomen sniggering. He wanted very much to reply, but unfortunately this wasn't the time or place for fireballing the tattooed dimwit. “The negotiation of contracts is an important part of Thayvian culture,” he stiffly said. “It is not my custom to break them. This deal seems as if it could be mutually beneficent.”

“I agree,” his lover said, giving him that private, warm smile that was just between the two of them. For a moment it felt as if his knees had turned into warm jelly. “It will be dangerous, but no more dangerous than hanging about the Underdark waiting for a better offer to come along. Anybody disagree?”

When no objections seemed to be forthcoming, she turned to Adalon again. “It seems we have a deal. You disguise us as Drow, we go into Ust Natha and do whatever we can to rescue your eggs. Deal?” She reached her hand up towards the dragon. Adalon looked at it in puzzlement for a second, but then held out a claw as long as a sword. Zaerini gingerly shook it.

“It is agreed,” Adalon's voice rang out. “I will now cast the spell. Be warned. It will not be comfortable.”

As it turned out, she was quite right about that. Edwin felt as if a giant hand had suddenly seized hold of him, squeezing him tightly from head to toes. He tried to speak, to move, to breathe, but the pressure was relentless. Little yellow stars floated in front of his eyes, followed by spinning purple trails of mist. Then the pressure moved inside, and he was being split apart, twisting, turning, folding in on himself and spreading outwards again. _Why couldn't we have settled for some invisibility spells instead?_ He thought, and then he thought nothing else for a while.

The cavern floor was cold and hard under his cheek, but blissfully stable and solid. Edwin struggled into a sitting position with a quiet groan, reached up to massage his aching head – and then froze. The hand in front of him was dark, a color that didn't fit even the most dark-skinned of humans, and it was more narrow than his own. He touched his face, feeling unfamiliar planes and angles, high cheekbones, a slightly pointed chin and a very annoying lack of facial hair. _Phaugh. That dragon had better put my beard back just as it were after we are done, I didn't save up for it for so long just to have it evaporate._ Tall and pointed ears poked out of his hair and twitched nervously when he touched them. He wondered briefly if they could be turned like those of a deer – certainly his hearing seemed sharper than ordinary, and so was his eyesight. That thought lasted only a moment though, for now that the initial shock was wearing off, he noticed the other Drow around him, all of them looking about with dazed looks on their unfamiliar faces. Only their respective weapons and armor helped him determine who was who, but he could already see they didn't look identical, so presumably he'd learn eventually.

“Wow...” one of the Drow said in Zaerini's voice, and Edwin felt a sudden relief that she at least still sounded like herself. “That was amazing. Everybody alright?”

As the others confirmed this, Edwin stood up and went to help his lover to her feet. Her face was altered, but not so much as he suspected his own was, and her mischievous smile was still the same. _Of course. She's a half-elf, so the differences would have to be smaller._ White hair had replaced her normal red, and her eyes had deepened in color to a fierce red, but the tilt of her head was the same when she winked at him. There was another difference as well, a rather disconcerting one.

“You're taller than I am!” he blurted out.

Adalon chuckled, sounding thoroughly amused for the first time since they'd entered her lair. “Drow females are taller than the males, a reflection of their dominant role,” she said. “I suggest you all adapt your behavior accordingly as you enter Ust Natha, in order not to arouse suspicion. The females must lead, and the males submit to their will, or risk swift punishment. It also helps if you know how to do massages and mix fruity drinks. Drow females are fond of those.”

Edwin looked at Anomen and Minsc, and for once their eyes met in perfect agreement. He gave a quiet sigh. “Well,” he said. “So much for this holiday. Next year, I'd like to suggest a trip to a nice beach instead.”

-*-

“You should waste no further time,” Adalon said, inspecting the newly created 'Drow' with a hint of satisfaction on her silver face. “You will take the place of a party of Drow that are expected to arrive in Ust Natha from Ched Nasad shortly. As they had an accident on the way, it will be quite safe for you to take their place.”

“An 'accident'?” Edwin asked in a dry voice. “Was this an accidental accident or a deliberate accident?”

Adalon didn't reply, but simply licked her chops briefly with a long, pale pink tongue.

“Ah. Well as long as they won't be bothering us. (Dragons have a refreshingly direct approach to certain things, I must say.)”

“How did you manage that?” Zaerini asked. “I thought you said you couldn't leave your cave?”

“Yes,” the dragon admitted. “This happened before the theft of my eggs, until I have them back, I do not dare move against the Drow again. Now, you will be taking the place of the leader of these particular Drow, and your name is 'Veldrin'. The rest of your companions should also adopt Drow names.”

“Oh, this should be fun,” the half-elf said with a grin. “I'll do it, I know a bit of Drow, I picked it up from...er...a book.”

“A book,” Jaheira said in a carefully neutral voice. “I believe Gorion mentioned finding you with that book once. 'Wholly inappropriate for a girl her age' is how I recall him describing it.”

“Aw, come on, it was educational! Without that book, I'd never have known about the candlestick and cream trick, for one.”

“The what?” Edwin said. “You haven't mentioned that before. (Though I can't wait to find out.)”

“Tell you what, I'll show you later,” Rini said, smiling at him. “For now, names. Let's see...Minsc, you first. You can be Wodztyrd, that means approximately Heroic Ranger.”

“Minsc and Boo are pleased! Can Boo keep his name, little Rini? He says he'll get cranky otherwise.”

“Oh, sure, Boo couldn't ever be anything but Boo. Jaheira, you'll be Ilphala – that's Natural Healer.”

Jaheira nodded. “It will do,” she said.

“Ano...let's see. Oh yes. You're Amalaonar, Blessed Shield. And Eddie, you're Alakasatar.” She felt sudden heat bloom in her cheeks. “That means...er...Beloved Prince of Wizards.”

“A suitable name,” Edwin said, smiling back at her. He took her hand, briefly raising it to his lips. Dark hand, dark lips, and his face was entirely different, but there was something of him still in there, she was beginning to see it now. “Would it be possible to add in an extra syllable or three later on, to further reflect on my magnificence?”

“Oh, shut it, or I'll name you Ambitious Goblin and make you answer to it for the rest of the trip.” She didn't stop smiling, though. “Adalon, I think we're ready to leave for Ust Natha. Just you wait, you'll have your eggs back in a jiffy. With disguises like this, we simply can't fail.”

-*-

“Veldrin, hmm?” The Drow guardsman standing outside the tall, black, spiky, generally imposing and quite, quite tasteless gates of Ust Natha sounded suspicious. He clicked his tongue, inspecting the adventurers with a look of clear disapproval. “I seem to recall hearing you were expected, yes. You're quite late.”

_All right, here goes_ , Zaerini thought. _Get into character. Be arrogant, be bloodthirsty, be violent. Be a Drow._ “How dare you question me, male worm?” She sneered, hoping that her lower lip was curling with proper contempt. “Let us through at once or live to regret it – maybe.”

The Drow flinched briefly, but he didn't budge. “I am sorry, Mistress, but I am under strict orders from the Matron Mother herself. Ust Natha is a secure city, you understand. Before I can let you in, you must first fill out the proper forms, to ensure us that you aren't in fact enemies.” He held out a thick bundle of pink paper, covered with tiny writing. Zaerini gave her friends a helpless look. _I don't recall this being part of any Drow stories I ever read._

“Fine,” she spat. “We will do this, and that will be the end of it. Ilphala, help Wodztyrd fill out his, to speed things up.” She passed the papers out, and then looked more closely at the one left to her. Her eyebrows rose higher and higher as she read the questions through. “Are these for real?” she asked. “This one...'Are you an Elven or Illithid spy in disguise?' or this one, 'Do you intend to engage in acts of Revolution, Civil Unrest, Spreading of Plague, Matroncide, Theft or Jaywalking while visiting Ust Natha?'. You don't see anything wrong with them?”

“Why, no,” the guard said, giving her a blank look. “All part of the security program from Matron Mother Ardulace, you see. No pesky spies or criminals will get into the city, anybody ticking a 'yes' would be killed at once, of course.”

“Yes, but...”

“Such a perfectly sensible policy,” Edwin said while swiftly filling out his form. “A flawless work of crystalline logic, worthy of a great ruler. You must feel very secure.”

“Oh yes,” the guard agreed. “Long live the Matron Mother, blessed may she be by the Spider Queen.” He skimmed through the paperwork. “Yes, everything seems in order, properly filled out, no dangerous revolutionaries here, eh?” He chuckled briefly. “You are free to enter Ust Natha. I was given orders to pass a message to you when you arrived, Mistress Veldrin. You are to report to Solaufein of the Male Fighers' Society upon your arrival to the city, the Matron has orders for you through him, it seems. You will find it if you cross three platforms on this level and then head up the first ramp to your left. If you seek accommodation, there are several good inns to choose from, but I would recommend The Flayed Elf, down the ramp to the right after the second platform. Their food is excellent, and the entertainment is sure to be to your tastes. Especially that game on the second floor, it's really quite...”

His voice ebbed away into a muted buzz, as Zaerini stepped into the city of the Drow, trying very hard not to gawk. Nothing she had read, none of the stories she had devoured, could have possibly prepared her for the reality of what she faced.

She was inside a vast cavern. Tall buildings towered above her, the tallest of them twenty floors or more, with delicate spires reaching for the unseen roof of the cave. Other buildings reared out of the depths below the smooth stone walkway on which she was standing, giving her the eerie sensation that she was flying when she looked down on their rooftops. The buildings all seemed to be made from different kinds of stone and varied in color from deepest black to pure white, most of them carefully decorated with elegant carvings and statues. As she looked ahead, she could see the walkway she was standing on leading slightly down to a round platform, from which other paths led off into the distance. Lights glimmered above and below, like a million fireflies, and there was a constant low murmur, a thousand voices speaking at once. For a few seconds she felt quite dizzy and she had to take a deep breath in order to steady herself.

_Get a grip, idiot. You can't stand around gawking, or they'll know you for a fraud._

“So, this is Ust Natha, is it?” she said. “Not too shabby I suppose.” She turned to her friends and made sure to speak loudly enough for any passersby to hear her. “Now let's show the pathetic locals what being a Drow really is all about, shall we?” _Gods, how are we ever going to find those eggs in a city this large? It's like trying to locate a needle in a haystack. I'm going to have to blend in, buy us time, or we'll all die. I'll have to do whatever it takes._ “First, we'll find this Solaufein and see what's what.” _I'll do it. Whatever needs to be done. It's a part like any other, and I'll play it as well as I can._ She walked off down the walkway, her back straight, a smile on her face. _Who knows, it might even be fun._

As she walked along, Rini paid close attention to the Drow she passed. Most of them were wearing relatively simple clothes, so she assumed this wasn't one of the wealthier areas of the city. The males carefully avoided looking her in the eye, and she noticed they took particular care not to jostle any female, no matter how crowded it was. At one point, four large males hurried past carrying a sedan chair. She couldn't see whoever was inside of it, but there was no avoiding noticing the painting of a large black spider on each door.

“I suspect that belongs to one of the Spider Queen's handmaidens,” Jaheira murmured. “Be very careful around them, child. Any Drow is dangerous, but those most of all. Guard your tongue, but do not be too diffident either, or they will show you no respect at all.”

“Not sure I could do 'diffident' if I tried,” she quipped, but she felt far more serious than she sounded. If she messed this act up, there would be no second chances.

Eventually the adventurers reached the Male Fighter's Society, a round and rather stark building made from dark gray stone, with images of armed and armored warriors carved into the walls. Rini sighed. “Right,” she said. “All fall in behind me then. Let's do this.” She yanked the door open and strode inside, glaring haughtily at the warriors gathered within. There were about ten or so of them, some of them sparring with swords or spears, some standing around chatting quietly. One was sitting alone at a table, staring moodily into midair.

“I am Veldrin of Ched Nasad,” Zaerini proclaimed, “and these are my companions. Loath as I am to enter a gathering of such feeble, inbred mongrels such as yourselves, I must speak with the one named Solaufein. Bring him to me at once or risk my displeasure.”

The males all turned to look at her, some of them looking briefly angry, others apprehensive. The one at the table looked up, and gave a dry, unamused chuckle. “Bold words from a houseless newcomer,” he said. “I am Solaufein. And female as you may be, don't think yourself invulnerable. I don't know what and who you were in Ched Nasad, but in Ust Natha you are a stranger, with no ties or allies. Were you to die here, there would be no questions asked.” He sighed. “But for now, I have a use for you, or rather the Matron Mother does. There is a task that needs to be undertaken, and that is why your group was sent for. Perform well and be rewarded.”

“What manner of task would this be?” Jaheira cautiously asked.

“Now is not the time to speak of this. I will speak with you tomorrow. Meet me at the city gates at the sixth hour of the day. For now, I suggest you get some rest and relaxation.” He smiled a slightly bitter smile. “It may be the last rest of your life, after all.”

There didn't really seem to be much to say after that comment, so the group decided they might as well take Solaufein's advice and find themselves an inn. The Flayed Elf was easy enough to find, and close to where they were supposed to meet Solaufein. The inn sign depicted its name graphically enough to make Zaerini feel a little queasy, but fortunately it was only painted wood and not an actual flayed elf. For a while there, she had been wondering. Inside, the common room was both similar and different from that of a human inn. The tables were ordinary enough, but there were also gauzy blue and purple drapes hanging in front of alcoves in the wall. She could just glimpse Drow in there, male and female, and now and then there would be low laughter, sighs and gasps. _They can't be, can they? Not right here in public? No, they seem to have clothes on – well mostly, so I guess not._ She quickly glanced over at Edwin and felt her cheeks grow hot. _I wonder what those big pillows feel like?_ Servants walked between the tables, carrying trays of food and drink, there was a bar with a very interesting array of multicolored bottles behind it, and then there were two open spaces. She looked over there, trying to figure out what they were. They looked like arenas; sandy pits that had been enclosed with iron bars so they were effectively two big cages. _Had enough of that with the Sahuagin, thanks. No pitfighting for me._

Music caught her ear, slow and seductive notes climbing high and then dropping like a waterfall, strumming a tune along that warmed her blood and made her heart beat faster. Whoever was playing was good, very good. She knew she wasn't a bad hand at the lute or the flute herself, but her greater talent lay in acting, and singing. _Then again, maybe I could pick up a few new tricks, you never know. But that's for later._

“Greetings, honored guests,” a skinny male Drow with a frayed left ear said as he approached them. “I am Minaer, proprietor of the Flayed Elf. You will be wanting rooms, or just a table? There is also many a fine entertainment planned for later, amusing games to be played, and the finest Lust Chambers of Ust Natha await your pleasure.”

Rini knew she was grinning widely, and when she caught her lover's eyes, she winked at him. “I'll take all of the above, Minaer,” she said. “All of the above and make it snappy. Oh, and make sure to get me a large bowl of cream and a candlestick for my session in the Lust Chambers later. Good cream, mind you.”

_Solaufein can go stuff himself. I can rest when I'm dead, right now I want to have fun._


	162. Royal Elf Flush

**Cards Reshuffled 162 –Royal Elf Flush**

_Divinity is in no way linked to capability. It does however ensure that your mistakes have a far greater impact on your surroundings._

_Excerpt from 'Interview With An Assassin'_

The sunlight was bright and clear, tinged a light green as it was filtered down through the leafy canopy high above. It flickered in dancing patches of light and shadow across the soft, mossy ground, warm and inviting. The air was clear, filled with the warm smells of rich soil, bark and leaf, and sweet flowers. High above, birds were singing in the treetops. 

Dekaras blinked at the sunlight, trying to make sense of where he was. _Of course, that enchanted wardrobe in the Cowled Wizard's house, it had some sort of magical portal inside of it._ Briefly he wondered if the wardrobe's wood had come from this forest, and just exactly where this forest was. So far, there were no obvious clues. Then he noticed that something was tickling his ears in a most annoying manner. He reached up to touch them, and then he froze, unable to believe what his senses were telling him. Those weren't _his_ ears. He knew his own ears well enough, and this wasn't them. These ears were tall and narrow, with pointed tips sticking straight up out of his hair. For that matter, it didn't feel like his hair either. It felt...fluffy. He looked down, dreading what he would see. His legs didn't look right either, they were definitely too short. _And I would never deliberately put on trousers made from gold cloth._

“Vadrak? Is that you?” 

The melodious voice made him spin around quickly. It had sounded familiar, but yet not. The strange woman who stood staring at him with her mouth hanging open was also eerily familiar, even if he'd never seen her face before in his life. Clearly an elf, with delicate features and pointed ears, she had long golden hair that hung down to her waist. Pink flowers had been braided into it, and she was wearing a white dress that had been decorated with so much gold thread that even Edwin would have been satisfied. Her blue eyes were wide with disbelief, and there was something about them...something he recognized. 

“Imoen?” 

“It _is_ you! I thought it was, but I wasn't sure. You look...um...” 

“Like an elf?” Dekaras said, hoping he was wrong. 

“Well, yeah. This is really, really weird, isn't it? You look good though, just didn't recognize you as a blond. Love the hair, maybe you could try it back home as well?” 

The assassin gingerly touched his hair once again. Fluffy on top, standing up in improbable spikes that bounced when he moved, and hanging loose in the back. “I think not,” he said in as diplomatic a voice as he could manage. “Now, shall we focus on figuring out what happened, where we are, and most importantly how we can get out of here?” 

“Well I thought it was a portal spell, but that wouldn't change us, would it? I'm not even sure we're really changed, it could just be some kind of illusion. But if the spell made us look like elves, there has to be a reason for that, right? Maybe we should look for other elves?” 

Dekaras nodded. That did make sense. “And if we do find them,” he said, “I say we keep our secret, for now. We have no idea what is going on here, so let's be cautious.” 

“Elves are all right, though, aren't they? I mean, it's not like orcs or goblins.” 

“Elves are protective about their borders. I would rather not be impaled by a dozen arrows because they have decided we're spies. I'm sure you agree.” 

“Oh, all right then. Say, can I braid your hair? I bet it'd look really cute!” 

“No,” the assassin said, trying very hard to keep his voice level. “You may not.” _Come to think of it, I wish we were in fact disguised as orcs or goblins. At least that would be slightly more dignified._

It wasn't long before the two rogues reached a smooth path through the forest, and having followed it for a while they eventually reached civilization in the form of a city. At least Dekaras assumed it had to be a city, though it wasn't anything like other cities he'd seen. The trees were truly massive here, as tall and as wide as palaces themselves, and far above he could glimpse structures nestled onto the thick branches. Buildings, gleaming in the sun like silver and pearls. 

“Ah, Lylas, Maith, back from your...stroll?” The voice was clear and crisp, and disturbingly familiar. Dekaras turned to face the speaker, and he could feel an icy chill running down his spine as he did so. There was a small group of elves, all dressed in shining green chainmail, narrow swords hanging at their waists and bows slung across their shoulders. Some were male, others female, but the one who was clearly their leader was a woman. Her dark hair had been twisted into a thick braid and pinned up, and her slim hand was resting on the shoulder of the man standing next to her, a tall elf with grey eyes and a grim face. The woman gave a brief laugh, and her blue eyes widened with amusement. Icy blue eyes, like frozen lakes. They had been darker when he had last seen them, altered, but he knew them all the same. He knew her face as well, even if it wasn't as pale as he remembered it. 

“Bodhi,” the assassin said, wondering what she would make of the obvious surprised note to his voice. _Impossible. How can she be here, and not a vampire?_

“Don't tell me you've forgotten all about me already, Lylas,” Bodhi said with a quick grin. “And here I found the time we spent together so memorable. I'm afraid poor Elhan here must be quite bored with my reminiscing about it, aren't you Elhan?” 

“To tears,” the male elf, Elhan, said, giving Dekaras a look of undisguised contempt. “My dear, sweet Maith, you could do better. Admittedly I don't know you beyond your name, but you could do better.” 

“Think so?” Imoen said. “Me, I think I'm doing just fine.” She stared intently at Bodhi, and Dekaras took hold of her hand and gave it a warning squeeze. _Whatever this is, it's not the same Bodhi. An open confrontation will solve nothing._

“As fascinating as this conversation is,” Dekaras interjected, “unless there was something in particular you wanted we really ought to be going.” 

Bodhi frowned briefly, but then she shrugged. “The Queen wishes for you both to attend her,” she said. “Something about a soirée I believe. You'd better hurry up.” 

“The Queen?” Imoen said, sounding interested. “Really? So, where is she then?” 

Now the mocking expression left Bodhi's face as she looked genuinely surprised. “Where she usually is, of course,” she said. “In the Sun Garden.” 

“Perhaps we had better escort them,” Elhan remarked. “It would not do for them to get themselves lost, after all.” 

Dekaras found his thoughts spinning very rapidly through his mind as he and Imoen silently followed the elves through the forest, and eventually up a cunning staircase that seemed to grow naturally out of one of the great trees, winding itself around the trunk. Wherever he and Imoen had been transported, and whether or not it was real or illusion, it did seem that the time was not that of the present. When, he didn't know, he had no idea how long ago Bodhi had become a vampire. _Given how long elves live, it could be hundreds of years in the past, even. And if Bodhi is here, then perhaps..._

“The Sun Garden,” Bodhi said in a bored voice, interrupting his thoughts. “Her Majesty awaits you within.” 

The assassin looked around, taking in the surroundings. The many paths they had taken along the broad branches had eventually taken them onto a smooth and wide terrace, lined with a tall hedge. Large white roses grew among sharp thorns, and the only entrance was the gold gate through which they had just entered. There was no roof, allowing the sun's rays to reach the smooth floor, the pots of fragrant flowers and the small pond unhindered. The water sparkled as it cascaded down from a white marble statue of an elf reclining in a large seashell with a number of small woodland animals, and he thought he could spot goldfish in the water. 

Two elves were present already, one male, one female. The woman was quite beautiful, with long redgold hair assembled into a complicated mass of curls, pearls and ribbons supporting a golden crown. The crown had been crafted so as to resemble leaves, so cleverly made that they almost seemed alive. She was sitting on a low bench by the pool, and there was a bemused smile on her face as she turned to speak to the irate elf next to her. 

“No, Joneleth, I will not permit that. It is unheard of, and completely inappropriate.” 

“You don't even begin to comprehend this, Ellesime!” the man snapped back at her. Dekaras felt Imoen's fingers tighten like claws around his arm at the sound of that voice. The figure in front of them was a stranger, a tall elven man in fine clothes, with a smooth face and well groomed hair, but there was something about that voice. 

“Enough!” the woman commanded. “You may be Suldanesselar's foremost mage, but you forget yourself, Joneleth, and you forget who I am. You will leave me now, and if I desire your company again, I shall send for you.” 

For a moment, the man seemed about to say something else, but then he simply gave a jerky bow. “As you command, my Queen,” he said, hastily brushing past the two rogues standing silently by the gate. As he did so, Imoen almost seemed to shrink into the wall, holding her breath. “No,” she whispered in an almost inaudible voice. “No, no, it can't be him, will I never be rid of him?” 

Dekaras kept a steady hold on her waist, worried that she might faint, or worse, retreat back into confusion and nightmares. He had recognized the man as well, the features previously seen only as a leather mask, the implacable blue eyes. _Irenicus. And this is Suldanesselar, and the Queen for whom his abandoned papers expressed such loathing._

“Maith, Lylas,” Queen Ellesime said. “It is good that you are here, I wanted to speak with you.” She smiled. “I will have need of your particular talents this evening.” 

“Talents, your Majesty?” Imoen said, straightening her back. Her voice was almost steady now, Dekaras was pleased to notice. _Considering what she has been through, she is holding up very well._

“Yes. You are, I am told, quite a talented singer, my dear. And I have witnessed Lylas' proficiency with the harp myself. Tonight I wish you both to perform for myself and my guests.” Her smile shrunk a little bit, but then returned in full force. “Sweet music to soothe the savage beast, or so I hope.” 

“Er...perform?” Imoen said, raising a hand. “But...” 

“I will expect you in the Royal Palace at two hours past sunset,” the Queen interrupted. “That will be all.” 

“It will be an honor, Majesty,” Dekaras said, giving Imoen a warning glance. It would not do to contradict, not here and now. 

“Of course,” the Queen said, her mind clearly already elsewhere. She did not look at them again as they hurriedly let themselves out the gate. 

“Did you see that?” Imoen exclaimed once they were out of hearing. “It was him! You know, _him_!” 

“I saw,” Dekaras said. “Very curious, to see him in his natural state, so to speak.” 

The girl's eyes narrowed angrily. “He and Bodhi both here, and they don't know who we are, do they? They'll never see us coming, not until it's too late.” 

“I understand the temptation, but think about it. If this is truly the past, and not merely an illusion, anything we do can have a severe impact. If we do what you suggest, we may cause greater damage to ourselves and our friends than even Irenicus could.” 

“Well, what're we gonna do then?” 

“For now, observe as much as we can, and then we can make more informed decisions. Also, I have a rather pressing task to attend to.” 

“What's that?” Imoen curiously asked. 

The assassin sighed. “It seems that I must learn to play the harp in less than a day, from scratch. Either that, or find out firsthand if elves are prone to pelting bad musicians with rotting vegetables.”

-*-

_Deep in the Underdark…_

“Well,” Zaerini mused, pushing the soft sheet off her sweat soaked body, “The Drow certainly have a few very interesting ideas.” She smiled, then turned to stroke her lover's cheek. “Then again, all this stuff would be worth nothing without that very special wizard to share it with.”

Despite the semi darkness of the room, Edwin's grin was clearly visible. “It is both my fond pleasure and solemn duty to thoroughly ravish you until you cannot even see straight. As for Drow paraphernalia, they are interesting but pale in comparison to the subtle manipulations of Edwin Odesseiron.”

“Subtle manipulations are good, but I didn't mind the 'erotic onslaught' either.” The half-elf stretched lazily, and then cuddled up as close as she could against her partner. “I needed this, Eddie. Something to make me feel good and forget about...things...for a bit.”

“I would do more to make you forget,” he replied, and there was tension in his voice now. “You suffer, I know it even if you don't want to speak of it. (And when I get my hands on Irenicus, I will extract his own soul through the most painful orifice possible, preferably in shreds.)”

“Oh, I'm holding up pretty well, I think,” Rini said, forcing a chuckle. She tried to ignore the emptiness inside, the black void eating at her. For a while there, she had almost succeeded.

“Pretty well isn't good enough.”

“Maybe, but it's all I've got for now.” She sighed. “I'm going downstairs to fetch us something nice and cool to drink, I won't be long.” She stood and wrapped herself in a gray, silky robe, briefly fascinated by the way it slid across her black skin. Then she winked at her lover. “Don't fall asleep, please? I've got a feeling I'll want some more distracting later.”

She walked downstairs, not in any particular hurry, taking her time to appreciate her surroundings. Drow craftmanship seemed inclined towards graceful patterns and sculptures, some of which had to be supported by spells as they seemed too fragile and top heavy to stand on their own. There were fewer patrons in the common room now than earlier, but it was still fairly crowded for the time of night that it was. _Of course, they don't exactly have to go by daylight hours down here._ There were Drow drinking, gambling, crowding around the fighting pits where some pretty disgusting things were going on. Also, there was that same sound of sweet music she had heard upon first entering the inn. _I'll just go have a look, for a little while. Whoever that is is really good.Whatever else you can say about Drow, at least they know something about music. I can't wait to see what she can teach me._

Keeping track of time was indeed more difficult in the Underdark than above ground, but Jaheira always seemed to know just what the position of the sun was, even when she couldn't actually see it. The druid got the rest of the party up in time, and they were soon off for their meeting with Solaufein.

“I hope you got properly rested, last night,” Jaheira said, giving Zaerini a searching look. “There is no telling what task Solaufein will ask of us, after all.”

“Rested? Um, yeah, sure.” She couldn't quite keep back a grin as she looked over at Edwin. “Really well rested.”

“I mean it, child. You may well need all of your energy today. Also, I hope you have not indulged in any excesses.”

“Excesses? What kind of excesses?”

The druid lowered her voice, making certain nobody else could hear them. “Drow cities are known for their corruption and danger. They are not places for the careless, or the innocent.”

“I'm not careless! And if you think I'm innocent, then you must have been living with a bag over your head for the past few months or so.”

Jaheira sighed. “Just promise me to think before you leap into anything new and exciting? Please?”

“Sure, sure. Whatever. I'm not a complete reckless idiot, you know, I'm not about to...to go pit fighting for fun or something like that.”

“Well. That is a start, at least. And I see we have arrived, so we had better end this discussion for now. I hope you will keep what I have said in mind.”

Rini looked up to see Solaufein, standing with a pair of guards flanking him just inside the city gates. The commander looked bored, she thought, as if nothing he might see or hear would surprise or excite him. _Or maybe not bored. Tired, in a way that's got nothing to do with lack of sleep._

“So, you came,” Solaufein said, not even a glimmer of interest in his voice. “I am surprised.”

“We came,” Rini said, taking care to sound appropriately contemptuous. “Good of you to rise from your stupor long enough to notice.”

_Careful, Kitten_ , Softpaws warned her. The black cat had been staying in the background since entering Ust Natha, not wanting to attract the attention of the Drow, and was currently hiding inside the bard's pack. She didn't like it much either, her voice was tinged with annoyance. _Baiting that one won't do any good, he's beyond such things._

_You mean he doesn't care?_

_He smells of despair so old it no longer makes him feel anything. I don't think he cares about anything._

Certainly if Solaufein had been offended, he didn't show it. “Phaere, the daughter of the Matron Mother, was captured by Devourers not long ago,” he said. “You know of Devourers, Veldrin?”

“Illithids. Yes.”

“Good, that will make this easier. Now, the First Wizard has managed to make a scrying, and determined that she is not yet dead. The illithids will be passing through the ether with their captive, not far from here, in just a little while. A spell has been prepared to draw them out, that we may kill them and rescue Phaere. Any questions?”

“If it is truly that important to the Matron Mother that her daughter survives,” Edwin commented, “I would have thought she would invest a larger armed force into this attack, rather than rely on our own small group. What have you to say to that?”

Solaufein shrugged briefly, a slightly bitter smile on his lips. “The Matron Mother, Lolth bless her name, frequently sees fit to test her loyal subjects,” he said. “Perhaps this is such an occasion.”

_And I wonder if it's us or him being tested_ , Rini thought. _But that's not important, we can only act on what we know, and we can't blow our cover for anything._ “We will of course obey the Matron Mother's wishes,” she said. “If Phaere is still alive, we will see her freed.”

“Yay!” Minsc explained, picking up the surprised half-elf and hugging her tightly. “Even in the dark places of the world there are still heroic deeds to be done and new friends to be found!”

“Er...yes,” Rini said, giving Solaufein an embarrassed look. The Drow commander still watched her with a very neutral expression, though she thought she could see the glimmer of surprise in his eyes. “That's for sure, _Wodztyrd_.”

“Who is that?” Minsc asked, sounding throughly bewildered.

“That is you,” Edwin replied between clenched teeth. “Your name, remember?”

“Oh, yes, of course! I must ask Boo to remind me, it's so easy to forget.”

_Why, oh why did I ever think it would be a good idea to bring Minsc on a secret undercover assignment? Oh, wait, I didn't have a choice, that's right._

“Never mind him,” Jaheira curtly said. “He ran afoul of Illithids once already, and it left its mark, but he is skilled with a sword and will aid our cause.”

“I see,” Solaufein said, still in that perfectly neutral voice. “Come with me then, the time is drawing close.”

The adventurers all followed him in silence, and for that, at least, Rini was thankful.

-*-

The sweltering heat had been unusually strong the past week or so, even by Thayvian standards. Despite the several cooling spells carefully woven through the Odesseiron Mansion, moving about still felt like a chore. Elvira Odesseiron sighed and leaned back against the soft pillows scattered over the elegant couch she was reclining on. She took another sip from the tall glass of iced lemon water standing next to her and pondered what to do next.

That she hadn't heard anything from Edwin lately was irksome, but not entirely surprising. Her baby boy was out and about in the world after all, and undoubtedly had let himself get distracted with all its possibilities. _And given what a fine, handsome young man he's grown up into, not a few of those possibilities are sure to be some entirely unsuitable girls. Well, better that he gets it out of his system now, and then he will find it easier to settle down later._

This recent lack of communication from her lover was definitely worrying, however. Certainly, delivering letters from the Sword Coast to Thay would take time, but there were ways to speed the process up, and Vadrak was normally very dependable about such things. _If something has happened to him..._ Icy fear gripped her insides, and she wanted to lash out at something, anything. _And if it hasn't, I will make him tremendously sorry for making me worry so! Infuriating man, if I didn't love him so I'd have had his hide long since._

It wasn't as if she didn't have any difficulties of her own to deal with either. Elvira raised her head sharply as yet another strong magical current surged through the air. _Galen, you utter idiot. This is far above your level of competence._ But she knew perfectly well that when her husband got enthralled by another new hobby, there was nothing to be done about it except wait for his obsession to wane again. _Hopefully before anything really disastrous occurs._ Another surge, as if in response to her thoughts, the strongest one yet, so strong that it took her breath away and pressed her flat against the pillows, so strong that it made her vision blur for a second.

“Galen?” she called out as she got to her feet, hurrying downstairs. “Husband? Are you...”

And Elvira Odesseiron froze in the middle of a step, staring in mute disbelief at the sight that met her.


	163. Mind over Matter

**Cards Reshuffled 163 – Mind over Matter**

_When it comes to the opening of doors and portals, rouges are clearly overpowdered. Don't leave home without them, and try not to misplace them on the way._

_Excerpt from 'Ruminations Of A Master Bard'_

Minsc wondered how long it would be before he'd see the sun again. He was used to dark tunnels, Dark Tunnels of Slimy Evil was where quite a lot of adventures took place, and a Hero must go where a Hero must go. Still, he did miss the sun, and he was worried that Boo might get unhappy without sun and fresh air and start eating the faces of the Evil Drow that were all around. 

“And that you mustn't do, Boo,” Minsc had told the hamster, “because we're on a very secret quest to save Minsc's Witch, and she tells us we must blend in.” 

Of course, Boo had said that a little eating of faces would blend in perfectly well in the Underdark, but at least he'd promised to be good. Right now the hamster was peeking out of Minsc's shirt collar, his little nose wrinkling at the cold, slightly dusty air of the cavern the adventurers had just entered. Minsc wanted to ask him if he smelled anything specially Evil, but he figured he'd better not, not when the Evil Drow might be eavesdropping. The ranger glared at Solaufein's back, adjusting the greatsword that was slung across his shoulders. 

“Easy now, my friend,” Anomen whispered in a soft voice. “We have no choice but to do this.” 

Minsc nodded, and sighed. This was a heroic quest after all, saving a poor innocent girl from naughty monsters, so that was good. All the same, he didn't much like the way Solaufein acted. “It isn't right,” he muttered. “He should be more respectful to a Witch, he should.” 

Anomen turned his head to watch Zaerini. The half-elf just tossed her currently white hair back across her shoulder, leveling a glare of her own at Solaufein after some comment the Drow warrior had just made. “He's an odd sort of Drow,” he mused. “But I'd say he is among the least of her problems right now, wouldn't you agree?” 

Minsc's shoulders sagged and he nodded. It was true, he knew. His Witch was hurting, hurting deep inside, and there was nothing he could do about it. Not yet, no. Minsc didn't even know how it was possible to take somebody's soul away, but if anybody could do so it was the Most Evil Wizard Ever. Little wisps of red mist drifted in front of his eyes just thinking about it, and only the soothing voice of Boo deep inside his mind made them go away. Find the Most Evil Wizard Ever, yes, that was it, find him and pound him and pound him. That would fix his Witch, Boo said so and Boo was never wrong. 

“Boo says we must hurry,” he said. “If we don't fix her soon...” 

Anomen raised a hand, interrupting him. “It seems we have arrived,” he murmured. Minsc stopped, to look around. They were in a rather small cave with tunnels leading off in several directions and a small stream running through it. In the faint light, the water looked black, but he thought it was probably clean enough. There might even be fish, he thought as he saw something pale and nearly translucent glimmer and disappear. 

“Prepare yourselves,” Solaufein said in that weary, indifferent voice of his. “The illithids will appear shortly, and we will not have much time.” 

Minsc drew his sword, wondering what illithids were until Boo told him that it didn't matter, he should just smack whatever suddenly turned up, except of course for the poor girl in need of rescuing. That made a lot of sense, he thought with some relief. Nobody was quite as good as Boo at getting to the important side of things. 

All was silent, except for the breathing of the people waiting, and the air felt thick, a little harder to breathe than it should be. Now there was a tingling all over Minsc's skin, and from the tense faces of his friends he could tell they felt it too. 

“They are coming,” Solaufein whispered. “Be ready!” 

There was a sudden shimmer in the air, like a patch of oil floating on water, growing and widening until it was the size of a door. 

_Evil is coming._ The certainty settled into Minsc's mind with absolute calmness. He knew there were many things in the world that were confusing and strange, but about this he knew exactly what to do. _Evil is coming. Protect my Witch._

The two creatures that first stepped through the door were tall and thin, with spindly arms and bodies hidden by long dark robes. Pale eyes that could have belonged on a fish, long and writhing tentacles occasionally parting to show pointed teeth. They held a Drow woman between them, lightly holding her arms more to guide than to drag. As soon as they had come through, they noticed the waiting adventuring party, and one of them gave a faint hiss of alarm. The other raised a thin hand, long fingers idly pointing, and two dark, lumbering big shapes leaped through the door, moving far too quickly for something so big. Minsc didn't have time to look too closely, but the things were taller than any man, and had mandibles and claws that looked able to easily rip armor in half. 

“Umberhulks!” Solaufein called. “Beware their eyes!” 

Minsc heard him, but the words held very little meaning at the moment. The red mists were rising quickly behind his eyes, and it felt good. With a scream of rage he charged, wanting nothing more than to feel his sword bite into strange flesh. Sparks flew as Lilarcor skidded off the nearest umberhulk's chitinous armor plates, but he swung again, and again, hearing a satisfying crunch as the creature's legs were sliced through. It shrieked and chittered, black eyes staring directly into Minsc's own. For a moment there was a very faint nudging inside his head, but the alien touch slid away, dissolved in the rage. There was a wet, popping noise, and then the eyes weren't there any longer. 

Minsc barely noticed the last twitches of the dying umberhulk. He was already turning around, looking for more Evil. _My Witch. Where is my Witch?_ Anomen was battling the second umberhulk, his shield raised high to protect against its gaze as much as against its claws. Lightning and fire coursed into it, and Edwin had a slight smile on his face as he began to cast another spell. 

_My Witch. Where?_

There, yes, there she was. A faintly glowing sword floated up between her hands, and moved on its own accord towards the mindflayers. They looked puzzled for a moment, and their tentacles stirred briefly. Zaerini screamed, a sudden shriek of intense pain, and dropped to the ground, clutching her head until she lay still. Jaheira, already moving to help, froze in her steps, only her wide eyes moving at all. 

_No! My Witch!_

The red mists descended fully, and there was nothing else, not even the voice of Boo. 

“Minsc! Minsc, stop it, we're safe!” 

The berserker blinked, wiping sweat from his face. His hand was dark, almost black. Why was it like that? It seemed like it was something he should remember. 

“Minsc, listen, it's important.” The voice was speaking very close to his ear, but there was nobody there. “This is your Witch. Nobody else can hear, do you understand? It's important, they can't hear me use your real name. You need to settle down, and be quiet.” 

_My Witch._ That settled it, in Minsc's mind. The Witches might do strange things sometimes, that wasn't for others to understand, but they were always, always to be obeyed. Not obeying a Witch was unthinkable, not obeying his own Witch impossible. He blinked again, and looked around. He was kneeling on the ground, holding his sword. Before him on the ground there was a wet, still twitching heap of tattered dark cloth and bits of tentacle. 

_My Witch is safe._

Zaerini was standing close by, but surely not close enough for him to have heard her voice the way he had. Of course, his Witch could do clever tricks with her voice, so maybe it wasn't that strange. 

“Ah, everything is settled then, Holiness,” Zaerini smoothly said. She was speaking to the Drow that the mindflayers had been holding, and the woman was watching the group of adventurers with idle curiosity. “He'll have these rages occasionally, making him a formidable force in battle, and it seems it also helped protect him against the psionic attack of the illithids.” 

The woman's silver eyebrow arched, and her nose wrinkled slightly. “And a fortunate thing that was for you – Veldrin, was it? It comes as no great surprise that Solaufein couldn't come up with a better plan than to rush in and hope for the best.” She aimed a brief sneer at the warrior. “He was ever an incurable optimist.” 

“About far too many things,” Solaufein agreed, watching the woman with a bleak look in his eyes. “Phaere, this place is not safe. Your Holy Mother awaits your return in Ust Natha.” 

“How thrilling,” Phaere snapped. “Very well, you may escort me back there, Solaufein, you should be able to manage at least that much. Veldrin, you and your companions are of interest to me, since it seems you have some skill in battle. I will meet you at your inn in three days time. Do not be late, or the inn will need to be renamed the 'Flayed Drow'. Solaufein, move!” 

She strode off in the direction of Ust Natha, not looking back. 

“As you command, oh gracious Phaere,” Solaufein murmured, and he trailed after her. “Veldrin, I really wouldn't recommend being tardy. You have seen Phaere at her most benevolent, you wouldn't enjoy seeing her in a temper.” 

“So, that was Phaere, was it?” Zaerini said after the Drow had all left. “Charming woman. I don't suppose we have any choice but to play along though.” 

“Regrettably not,” Jaheira agreed. “We cannot afford to antagonize her, we can only hope that she doesn't require us to do anything too distasteful.” 

“We will do what we must in order to survive,” The Evil Wizard snapped. “We cannot afford to indulge tender consciences when our lives are on the line.” 

Minsc frowned. Boo was trying to tell him something, sounding more anxious than he normally would, but it was a little hard to hear him properly since he was so flustered. “Boo says this is a bad place,” he declared. 

“Yes, obviously, given that it's part of the Underdark,” the Evil Wizard said. “Does the little vermin have any more brilliant insights to share? 'Rain is wet' perhaps?” 

“The Evil Wizard could do with more of the soothing hamster wisdom of Boo, and then maybe he wouldn't act like a bear with a tummy ache from too much honey.” 

“I'll rub your tummy anytime, Eddie,” Zaerini said, giving the Evil Wizard a fond grin that made the man sigh. “Minsc, does Boo have anything else to say?” 

“Oh. Yes.” Minsc listened closely, then nodded. “Boo says there are more psissonists coming. What are those, Little Rini?” 

Zaerini's red eyes widened with sudden alarm, and her dark skin turned a shade of gray. “Psionicists! Minsc, that's mindfla...” 

Her voice was cut off in the middle of the word, and her eyes rolled back in her head as she dropped to the ground. Minsc just had time to notice his other friends falling as well, and to hear the soft whisper of robes swishing against smooth rocks, the wet noise of moving tentacles. 

_Boo?_

Thought ceased, consciousness dwindled. Hidden deep in the unconscious ranger's pocket, a small hamster huddled for safety, its mind deliberately blank and fuzzy so as not to attract notice. 

It was not yet the time for that.

-*-

_Later, deep within a cell in the Underdark…_

“Sillythoids?” 

“No Minsc. No. It's Illithids. Illithids, do you hear me? Probably umberhulks as well.” 

“Here? But there is no wood here, it makes Boo sad since he misses the trees and nuts.” 

“Not lumberhulks! Umberhulks! Honestly, sometimes I believe you do this on purpose...” 

Zaerini slowly came awake, wincing a little at the sensation of a cold stone floor beneath her cheek. She had been sleeping in an odd position too, and sharp tingles shot up and down her right arm. As she opened her eyes, memories came back to her. She grimaced briefly. _Illithids. Mindflayers. And we've been captured by them. Bad, bad, bad._ The bard sat up and looked around, and what she saw did nothing to lighten her mood. 

The room she found herself in wasn't exactly a room, but rather a small cell. Three walls were of smooth stone, and the fourth consisted entirely of metal bars. There was a door in it, which she didn't doubt was carefully locked. Not a single piece of furniture graced the cell, so no wonder she'd been sleeping on the floor. At least all of her friends were there, and unharmed, though Jaheira looked about ready to tear her hair out after the conversation about illithids. 

“Morning everybody, or whatever it is,” Rini said, rubbing at her eyes. “So we've been captured by sillythoids, have we?” 

Jaheira sighed deeply. “Now don't you start as well,” she said. “We are in a very serious predicament, you know.” 

“Yeah, I do. Anybody got any bright ideas about how we can get out of it?” 

“Regrettably the door failed to respond to my opening spell,” Edwin said, frowning. “It seems to be warded against magic. The locks could probably be picked, but...” 

“But we don't have anybody with us who's any good at lockpicking.” 

“Sadly, no.” 

“Figures. Can you fwoom the door maybe? Fire, lightning, whatever?” 

“No. While my magic is certainly more than capable of achieving temperatures high enough to melt metal, none of the spells at my disposal would last long enough for the bars to be sufficiently affected.” 

“It seems we have little choice but to wait,” Anomen cut in. “The illithids must have captured us for a purpose, or they would have slain us already. Sooner or later, they will come for us, and it is then that we must seize upon our chance to escape.” 

An unfamiliar voice spoke at this point, deep and with an oddly moist undertone. “You speak true. Luckily, you and we can do business together. We've got an offer you can't refuse.” 

Zaerini hastily turned to see who had spoken, and saw that there was another cell, opposite the one she was in. In this second cell were four humanoid, yet very peculiar beings, regrettably familiar. They were all quite tall, with pale skin that was a sickly yellow, and their pointed ears reminded her of elves. They were far too emaciated though, skinny to the point where they looked about to break in half, and yet they also had good muscletone. Their eyes were so deepset that they were only a faint glitter beneath protruding brows, they didn't seem to have any noses apart from narrow nostrils, and their mouths were thin slits. Three of them were sitting down on the ground, but the one that had spoken was standing, holding on to the bars of the cell. He was wearing a large sword strapped to his back, but unlike his similarly armed companions he wasn't dressed in armor. Instead he wore a rumpled white suit, and a white hat sat jauntily on top of his head, mostly hiding his coarse brown hair. 

“Who are you?” Rini asked, trying not to stare too hard. 

“We,” the man said, “are of the Githyanki. We have traveled from afar to reach this nest of our foes, the former enslavers of our race. My name would be impossible for your primitive tongues to pronounce, so you may call me 'Don'. My companions are Little Nick, 'Brassknuckles' Brassi, and my cousin Vinny.” 

“Charmed,” Jaheira said in her driest voice. “And why did you want to seek out the illithids?” 

Don shrugged briefly. “We are...collectors, you might say. We came to collect one part of an item that was stolen from us and regrettably also damaged. Perhaps we will want to discuss this with you later. But for now, there is the matter of escape to deal with.” 

“I like the sound of that word,” Rini said, nodding. “So, what do you propose?” 

“The illitihds sometimes enjoy watching their slaves fight among themselves in the arena. We have fought some of their beasts already, and next it will be your gang against ours.” The Githyanki smiled a narrow smile. “We've got some mental powers ourselves, and we can distract the illithids long enough for you to find a way to open the doors leading out into the Underdark. Of course, if you refuse the offer we will simply kill you, and hope for wiser opponents later.” 

“Right.” The half-elf thought about this for a moment. “Sure, we've got no reason to want to fight you. We'll go along with your plan.” _For as long as you don't give us a reason not to, that is._

At this point, there was a loud clang, and a fat ogre wearing only a very grubby and ripped loincloth walked into the room. He had a club across his shoulder that looked more than capable of breaking all the bones in a person's body in one single blow. 

“Right!” He bellowed. “Youse and youse comes with Tub now, or Tub smash puny slaves! There be good fight in arena now, winners even gets served grubs after, yummy grubs, mmmm.” He rubbed his rotund belly and licked his lips. “Jus' like Mama Ogre used ta make dem. Puny slaves hurry now!” 

“We are not slaves, you corpulent catastrophy!” Edwin hotly interjected. “And if you'll just step into my line of sight I'll show you exactly why! (Grubs, he says? He'd look excellent as a grub, preferably one floating in one of those odd Maztican drinks.)” 

“Pace yourself, wizard!” Jaheira snapped, grabbing hold of his arm before he had time to launch a spell. “There is a swarm of mindflayers to deal with, not just one ogre, remember? This is not the time.” 

“Hmpf, very well, I will restrain myself from reverting the creature to its natural form, for now.” Edwin yanked his sleeve loose. “And don't wrinkle the cloth, it is of the highest quality.” 

The adventurers allowed themselves to be led out of the cell, and into the arena. It was a large, open space, with dozens of mindflayers sitting silently on benches all around them, waving little red or blue flags in their tentacles. _I guess they're rooting for either us or the githyanki. And they could be cheering too, only mentally so we can't hear. Ew, what are they doing with those tentacles? That's gross._

At this point the githyanki also entered the arena, and stood silently at the other end. Zaerini eyed them carefully. She'd noticed something in particular about their leader, Don, and wanted to make sure she hadn't been mistaken. Yes. There it was again, a quick flash of silver as he turned around. _Strapped to his back, I think. Yes._ She met his eyes, and what she saw there convinced her. _He knows what we have. He'll turn on us the moment he thinks it's safe._ She grinned quickly, not averting her eyes. _Time to start the game._

A voice sounded inside the half-elf's head, a voice not her own. _You will now fight your opponents, until all the members of one team are dead. The reward for survival is survival. Begin now._

She drew closer to her friends, certain from their surprised expressions that they had heard the same thing. They all stood warily, prepared in case the Githyanki would go back on their word. Instead though, the deceptively frail-looking humanoids all suddenly sat down on the ground, their eyes closing. A pressure was growing in the air, and Rini blinked, trying to clear her suddenly aching head. On the benches all around the arena illithids were swaying, not reacting to what was going on with their captives. “This is it!” she called out. “Everybody move, quickly!” 

As they all hurried out the door leading back towards the prison, leaving the meditating Githyanki and the entranced illithids behind, they once again came upon the ogre. He was sitting on the ground, peacefully picking his nose and eating the contents, and he didn't look best pleased to see them. “Hey!” he called out. “No go here, you fight now! Me stomp you!” 

“No, no, that's all a misunderstanding,” Rini hurried to say. “The illithids let us go, you see.” 

“Huh? Bosses let puny ones go?” 

“Yeah, absolutely. Think about it, there's no way we could have got away from them, what with them being so much more powerful than us. So clearly, they must have let us go.” 

The ogre slowly scratched his bald hid. “That make lots sense. Little one plenty smart.” 

“Thanks. Now, maybe you could show us the way out of this prison area, there's a good ogre.” 

“Aw, Tub be sorry, but Tub can't. Tub knows where door is, but only bosses can open.” 

“The door is locked of course,” Jaheira said. “Where is the key?” 

“Door not have key,” Tub said. “Bosses think lots hard at door, and door open. Maybe little ones think lots hard too?” 

“We should not linger here,” Anomen warned. “The illithids may be coming after us at any moment.” 

“You're right,” Rini said. “Tub, show us where the door is. We'll...work something out when we get there.” _I hope._

The door fortunately wasn't very far from the cells. Unfortunately, once Tub had led the adventurers there, it turned out the door was just as impossible to open as he had claimed. “Dere,” the ogre sorrowfully said. “Tub sorry, Tub not able think hard enough for door. Tub go sweep arena floor now, bosses say Tub can have all the scraps he can eat.” 

“Um...right. Good luck with that then,” Rini said, waving after the ogre as he ambled off. Then she looked at the door again. “So. Locked door. Suggestions?” 

“Teacher Dekaras could certainly open it,” Edwin said, nodding for emphasis. Then he sighed. “If he were here.” 

“Much as I respect his abilities,” Jaheira said, “I think even he would find it somewhat difficult to pick a lock on a door with no actual lock. I take it your magic will not help either?” 

“If I had known I would be called upon to open locks I would have memorized more such spells for today, or at the very least Explosive Runes. Even so, the magic wards on this door are strong enough to block even my most powerful spells, I could sense them from two rooms away.” The wizard bent closer to the door, running his fingers carefully across it. “It will take either the psionic powers of a mindflayer or else strength of godly proportions to get it open.” 

“Minsc is strong! I will bash this door down for you, my friends, and then the evil squid people, look!” Before anybody had time to object the ranger hurled himself at the door, slammed into it with a loud 'clang' of armor against metal, and then bounced off again. He lay on the ground with a very peaceful smile on his face and a large purple bruise swelling on his forehead. 

“Oh for the love of Silvanus,” Jaheira said. “Anomen, this will require both of us, I think. We cannot really afford to let him have another permanent head injury, he might end up believing himself a hamster this time.” 

Anomen nodded, and the two healers set about working on the unconscious Minsc, now and then pausing to mutter something quietly to each other. That left Zaerini and Edwin staring at the door. “Psionic powers aren't going to happen,” the half-elf mused. “It's not as if the mindflayers will help us out if we ask them nicely. Godly strength though...hm.” She tapped her finger thoughtfully against her chin. “That we can do. I'll just have to hurry before one of the others tries to stop me.” 

For a moment Edwin looked uncomprehending, and then a look of shock and horror spread across his face as he clearly saw what she was getting at. “No! You foolish woman, don't...” 

It was too late. Zaerini had already opened herself to the void where her soul used to be. Darkness was rushing in, filling her mind. She felt her lips drawing back in a snarl of bloodlust, and then she pounced.


	164. Brain and Brawn

**Cards Reshuffled 164 - Brain and Brawn**

_A bard isn't a super weaponmaster, or a master mage. We can dabble in those fields, sure but we live or die by our wits, and anybody preferring to live had better learn how to not just think outside of the box. You want to think an entirely different box into existence, convince your foes to walk into it and then kick the whole thing into a pool of rabid piranhas._

_Excerpt from 'Ruminations of a Master Bard'_

Jaheira was not a woman who frightened easily, but at the sound of the first deep, bloodcurdling snarl she felt her heart actually skip a beat. The last remnants of the healing spell had barely faded from her fingers before she jumped to her feet, leaving Minsc blinking in confusion on the ground. Anomen, slower than she was in his heavy plate armor, was also getting up, and she could see the same horror in his eyes that she was feeling. 

_Silvanus no! Don't let it be too late!_

Zaerini was already unrecognizable, a crouching shape that seemed to be growing larger by the second. Burning eyes, long fangs and claws, tail lashing back and forth, and perhaps worst of all, a feral grin that wouldn't have looked entirely out of place on the young half-elf's normal face. 

_Is she even in there? Can she be reasoned with at all?_

Edwin was standing with his back pressed against the wall, his face utterly blank and very pale. Jaheira wasn't certain, but by the looks of it she thought the wizard might have gone into shock. She couldn't really blame him either. 

_A spell to soothe beasts. Yes, that might work, even if she isn't entirely bestial. I have to try._

Jaheira took a step forward, but then felt her arm caught in a strong grip. “No!” Anomen said. “She could tear you apart in an instant.” 

A brief flash of anger sparked inside, that he would tell her what to do, but it was tempered with tenderness. “There is no time to argue,” she began, but before she could finish the sentence Zaerini's snarl deepened to an enraged roar. The transformed bard lunged at the door, slamming into it at full speed. There was a loud creak of protesting metal, along the fizz of magic sparking harmlessly off her body, and then the door toppled and fell to the ground with a resounding clang. Zaerini fell on top of it, hissing angrily, her claws still raking at the broken door. 

_Now. While she is occupied._

The spell formed inside her mind, she could feel it growing like strong, green tendrils. They spread out from her hands in flowing, spiraling curves, settling gradually over the Bhaalspawn. Soothing, relaxing. Zaerini hissed again, but this time it was a sound of confusion rather than anger, and the fire within her eyes was starting to fade. She shuddered briefly, and the air around her shimmered. Almost too quickly to see fur faded, claws retracted and her face assumed its normal appearance. It was only a few seconds later that a very dazed-looking half-elf was sitting where the monster had been, rubbing her head. 

“Ow...” she groaned. “I nearly broke a tooth there.” 

“You are lucky you did not break your fool head!” Jaheira spat, hurrying forward to grasp the younger woman's head between her hands. Only a minor healing spell was necessary, and she rather thought the lingering pain might be a suitable lesson. “Have you any idea at all how dangerous that was?” 

“Look, we needed to get the door open, right? I don't have psionic powers. Do any of you have psionic powers? Nope, didn't think so. So I did the best I could think of. And it worked, didn't it?” 

“That may be so, but that does not excuse the fact that you could have killed somebody with your foolish recklessness! I doubt you would be so flippant if you had torn off Edwin's head, for example.” 

“I wouldn't do that!” Zaerini spread her hands widely for emphasis. “Look, it's not like that first time, all right? I can handle it now, at least for a short time like this was. I won't attack any of you when I'm like that, and you could see for yourselves how strong I was.” 

“That is irrelevant,” Edwin cut in, staring down his lover with his arms crossed across his chest. “Even if you can indeed control it (And I suppose she can, since I still possess all my bodyparts) it is bound to be dangerous to you. You were turning yourself into what can only be described as an avatar of Bhaal. That could easily have destroyed you, or left you devoid of all sense. No, on second hand that probably already happened the first time, because you couldn't possibly have done this if you had any sense left. You were being intolerably foolhardy, and I will not stand idly by and let you damage yourself further!” 

Zaerini tried to speak once or twice during this, but found herself cut off. She had gone quite pale, and her eyes seemed to be burning nearly as brightly as those of the monster she had just been. “Oh, that's rich, coming from _you_! Just how many times have you nearly killed yourself chasing after some new spell or artifact again? How dare you talk to me like that?!” 

The wizard knelt down, and took one of her hands between his. He whispered something into her ear, and although Jaheira's hearing was quite excellent, even she couldn't pick up on it. However, it seemed to work. Zaerini sighed, her shoulders slumped, and she looked at Edwin with a rueful smile. “Now that's just not fair,” she said. 

“Of course not.” 

“Fine. I won't do this again, unless I really and absolutely have to, I promise.” 

“Let us hope that time never comes,” Anomen said. “But for now, we should head out. The mindflayers will have noticed our absence by now, I wager.” 

“Oh. Yeah, you're right. Let's go then, I can't wait to get out of this place.” 

That, however, would prove to be more easily said than done. The party walked through the now open door, and along a dimly glowing and very purple corridor, with walls that seemed to curve in odd ways that the eye couldn't quite follow. Eventually they reached a larger chamber, and paused before yet another locked door, this one much larger than the previous one. 

“No,” Jaheira said even as she saw Zaerini opening her mouth. “Absolutely not. We will find some other way.” 

“Only one way through that door, little lady,” a gravelly voice spoke behind her. “It won't open until the Elder Brain is dead. Think you're up for a real challenge?” 

The group of githyanki stood close together, and while Don and his cronies weren't actually smriking, Jaheira thought they weren't far from it. “The Elder Brain?” she said, keeping her voice as level as she could. 

“An colony of mindflayers are always ruled by an Elder Brain,” Edwin said, not taking his eyes off the githyanki. “It will be located in the center of the settlement, and upon death all illithids have their brains absorbed by it, along with all their knowledge. Their psionic powers are immense. Clearly these unwashed primitives are about to suggest that we go and fight it for them, and I would be surprised in the extreme if they intend to lift as much as a finger to help.” 

Don shrugged. “Our part is done,” he said. “Our people were slaves to the illithids for millennia, and the Elder Brain will sense our presence if we go to close. Your more simple minds should be less conspicuous.” 

“My simple mind will enjoy seeing you writhing in darkest hellfire, you sallow-faced obscenity. Clearly you are well-suited to slavery, as you intend to do nothing more than grovel here while your betters sort out this predicament. (Not that I would particularly care to possess such ugly slaves, they would grate on my refined sensibilities.)” 

“We'll do it!” Zaerini hastily said, before the githyanki could finish drawing their weapons. “I don't like it either, Eddie, but we've no choice that I can see.” She gave the githyanki a steely glare. “We'll be back.” 

“Good,” Don said, smiling a thin smile. “And then we'll talk business, like...civilized people.” 

The adventurers set off down one of the side corridors, one that Jaheira thought was most likely to take them to the center of the complex. As apprehensive as she was about this venture, she had to admit that they really did have no other choice. She looked towards Zaerini who was walking ahead with Minsc and Edwin, and she sighed softly. _Gorion, how I have failed you. I should have been able to protect her from this, somehow. From all of it._

“She is strong,” Anomen spoke quietly. “She can survive this curse, I'm sure of it.” 

Jaheira looked up at him, wondering for a moment if he had been reading her mind. “I know she is,” she said. “But I worry all the same. Once she regains her soul, will she still be the one she was?” 

“Will you, Jaheira? Will I?” The cleric's voice was warm, and tender in a way that made odd little trills run down her spine. “We all change, all of us, all the time, for better or for worse. I have changed since I first met you, for the better I hope.” 

“Very much for the better,” she replied, unable not to smile in return. “But you and I still have our souls instact. She does not. She is vulnerable to evil influences. That thing she did just now, the thing she became, it was wholly...” 

“Unnatural?” He said, and he winked at her. “But remember, she did not attack any of us. If she was influenced by evil, she resisted it.” 

“I know, I know. But I cannot help worrying.” 

He took her hand, raised it to his lips, and planted a light kiss on it, one that made her feel slightly dizzy. “I know, Jaheira. You wouldn't be you if you didn't. But please remember, when you need to lighten your heart I will always be here for you.” 

Jaheira's smile widened, and she looked him straight in the eyes. “Do you know,” she said, “I feel better already.” 

Even though her spirits had been lightened by the conversation with Anomen, Jaheira was very much aware of the dangers of the current situation. Mindflayers were extremely dangerous in themselves, and with this Elder Brain added into the mix the task seemed very nearly impossible. Edwin had explained that the illithids would be likely to be able to warn the Elder Brain through their psionic powers if they were faced in direct combat, and that would alert the entire colony. It would be necessary to use stealth. 

“And our two stealthy companions were left behind in Brynnlaw,” Anomen said with a sigh. “As they are not here, we must attempt to find some other way.” 

Jaheira gave a sigh of her own. Imoen, missing again, and in the terrible state she had been in after Spellhold, who knew what might happen. _At least she isn't alone. That is some comfort, and as he is used to keeping Edwin in line he can probably manage Imoen. Probably. Even if that girl is as good as Zaerini is at getting into trouble._

“If they'll alert the Elder Brain the moment they spot us, we can't allow them to spot us,” Zaerini said, nodding. “I've got an idea.” She dug about in her pack for a moment, and then pulled out a slender green wand, a rather smug smile on her face. “Cloudkill wand. Sometimes, old tricks are best.” 

“Aw, no fight?” Minsc said, his shoulders hunched with disappointment. “Minsc prefers the clang of swords to sneaky poisons.” 

“Mindflayers don't have swords, Minsc. They could stun you, charm you or just plain kill you before you could reach them. I know berserking helped before, but they'd still still see you. Speaking of swords though, I've got another idea. Eddie, this one's for you.” 

She went on to explain what she meant, while Edwin beamed proudly at her. “I most certainly have that spell memorized,” he proclaimed. “I can cast it twice, so we will want to reserve it for those nests that look especially dangerous. (She is certainly showing a very satisfying progress in the art of devastating her foes, oh yes.)” 

“Twice it is then,” Zaerini agreed, smirking as she tapped the wand against her palm. “We'd better get going, I'm feeling inspired here. When we get to the Elder Brain I've got another idea, one I think even your Teacher Dekaras would be impressed with.” 

The young half-elf detailed her plan as they walked along, and Jaheira listened with interest but also with growing concern. 

_Edwin was right. She is definitely getting better at killing, but more importantly she is enjoying it more than she did before. Anomen, I do hope you were right. I hope it is not already too late to help her._

-*-

“That's another three down,” Zaerini said with a cocky grin an hour or so later, blowing a buff of green smoke off the top of her wand. “Oh, look at that one, he's got even more tentacles than the others. Well that won't help him now.” She quickly looked over the three dead illithids on the floor, making certain that they were completely dead. “I love Cloudkill wands. Love, love, love!” 

“How delightfully deviant of you,” Edwin said, stroking his chin. He made an annoyed little grimace at the lack of beard on his transformed face. “Next time I would highly enjoy watching.” 

“Oh shush,” The half-elf replied, elbowing him lightly in the side even as she winked at him. “But you've got to admit it worked well. A few puffs of Cloudkill spell into a room and those illithids feel too sick to even think of fighting back or calling for help. And you summoning a conjured sword or two there to help hack them up really helps too.” She beamed at the rest of her friends. “You know, this is all a lot of fun, really!” 

Jaheira briefly closed her eyes. “Need I remind you that those wands do not have an infinite number of charges, and that we must still deal with the Elder Brain?” 

“Got it covered Jaheira, got it covered.” Rini frowned briefly, then shrugged. “At least I think so. Just have to wait for Softy to come back.” It was only a few minutes later that the black cat sneaked into the room and leaped gracefully into Rini's arms. 

_You smell of dragon poo_ , she said, wrinkling her nose. 

_Heh, sorry. Can't expect Cloudkill wands to smell of roses, you know._ She scratched her familiar's ears. _So, let me go over it again. You saw two big golems, but no mindflayers, right?_

_Yes. And a big vat. It was too high for me to see into without going closer._

_That'll be the Elder Brain. Thanks Softy, you did great._

The black cat yawned and jumped down onto the floor again. _Of course. Now can we please kill the rest of these creatures and get out? I need to be fed._

_I thought you just ate?_

_I did. Those tentacles are very rubbery. Not like proper fish at all._

_Softy I've told you about ten times already, illithids aren't fish._

_They smell like fish, and they flop like fish when they die. They ought to taste like fish as well. Now hurry up. I'll take a nap in your pack while you kill this brain thing, so don't jostle it._

“Right,” Rini said, clearing her throat. “Softy says the Elder Brain is quite close, with two golems. The rest of you can deal with the golems, I'll handle the brain.” Despite her confident voice and posture, her friends met this statement with a certain amount of scepticism. 

“Have you gone quite insane, you foolish woman? Do you intend to do battle with an Elder Brain on your own? Have you become an archmage while I was not looking? (And if so, why hasn't she shared her spellbook with me?)” 

“Edwin is quite right, as much as it pains me to admit it! Child, this is insanity!” 

“My lady, I really think you ought to sit down and rest for a moment...” 

“Little Rini get knock on head? Minsc knows how that is, we should find her a hamster to help and guide her just like Boo does for me.” 

“Guys!” Rini said, spreading her arms wide. “Come on, I didn't say I'll jump it and try to tear it apart with my teeth and nails in some fit of berserker rage! Give me some credit here, I've got a plan, and it does not involve me going Slayer on the Elder Brain's...er...rear lobes.” 

Four very skeptical faces looked back at her. “Now listen up,” She said, a warm buzz spreading through her body as she delighted in what was come. “This is what we'll do...” 

-*- 

The Elder Brain floated serenely in its vat of perfectly balanced and tempered saline solution. For an Elder Brain it was actually relatively young, it was only about ten feet across, but it would grow bigger in time. All the illithids of the colony would be absorbed by it when their turn came, all their knowledge and skill absorbed along with them. They, of course, erroneously believed this would grant them immortality rather than merely copy their imprinted information into a new vessel. But right now something was wrong in the colony. Several of the illithids had been lost recently, lost suddenly enough that they had been unable to transmit the required information about what was destroying them. So far, the Elder Brain had been unable to determine what was the cause of the malfunction, despite running a full scan of the entire colony. The only proper error report it had received was the escape of a few slaves, but that should not be enough to so thoroughly disturb the colony. 

All the same, the Elder Brain had decided that it had better prepare some extra security. The illithids could be sacrificed if necessary, more could and would be grown. Its own safety was paramount, and so it had carefully budded off two sizable brain golems from its own tissue and placed them on guard next to the vat. For creatures created entirely from brain tissue they were remarkably strong, and they would let no threat pass them by. Unfortunately, the creation process left the Elder Brain temporarily weakened, its psionic powers largely expended. It could still commune with the golems and the illithids, but its thought processes were slower and fuzzier than normal. It was resting now, pondering whether it might be best to move the tadpoles into a safer storage area. That could be risky however, they were sensitive in their current stage of development and might be damaged. It had just decided to take the risk and was preparing to summon its servants/children/slaves when the door to its chamber slammed open and the intruders entered. 

A quick surface scan of their minds revealed five humanoids, similar yet different. One of them was particularly odd, nothing like the Elder Brain had encountered before, and another one was muddled and fizzy to touch. Three non-humanoid minds – animals? Though they were odd as well, especially one of them. By now the golems had joined battle with the intruders, and the Elder Brain prepared itself to join the attack. Weakened as it was, it would still be able to stun, to charm and to cause intense mental pain, and it prepared itself to do so. The golems were holding their own, distracting the intruders, and now – wait. One of the intruders, right at the vat, leaning over it, and the soft, perfectly controlled saline solution was...was... 

The Elder Brain reeled, its thoughts on fire, dissolving into dancing pink tendrils of mush. It would...it would...terminate intrudersch...make th-them all scho schorry...syntax failure...divide by zero. Six salmons sleeping in a salmon-box. Salmon error. Retry procedure, yes/no? Out of neuron error, out of neuron error, out of neuron error...Critical System Failure. Unable to reboo... 

-*- 

“See? Didn't I tell you I had a plan?” Zaerini said, beaming proudly at her friends. She triumphantly held a nearly empty bottle of over the vat. The last few drops trickled into it, hissing as they made contact with the fluid inside. “Thanks for letting me have this, Minsc. _Drauvani_ , wasn't it?” She pointed at the lifeless, slowly dissolving pile of pinkish-gray goo that had once been the Elder Brain. “This is your brain on _Drauvani_ , kids. Just say no.” 

Edwin made a grimace. Clearly he still remembered his experience drinking the Rashemani drink during the trip to Brynnlaw. By the amused looks on Minsc's, Jaheira's and Anomen's faces, so did they. “A disgusting concoction, no doubt whipped up by insane hags who speak only in rhyme and meddle with prophecies,” he said. “Hopefully this will be the last of it.” 

“But Edwin,” Jaheira said, her eyes twinkling, “the singing you provided that time you drank it was so very entertaining. A shame about the albatross that died from sudden heart failure, but perhaps that was mere coincidence. Are you sure you don't care to amuse us again?” 

The wizard muttered something under his breath that Rini couldn't quite make out, but she didn't think it was a compliment. He turned his back on the others and busied himself with scraping up some of the Elder Brain into a small jar, saying something about possible avenues of research. 

“At least these two seem unlikely to trouble us again,” Anomen said, poking one of the two immobile golems in the chest. It simply stood there, swaying gently back and forth, staring blindly ahead. “The Elder Brain's demise must have destroyed them completely. What of the illithids, I wonder?” 

“That,” Zaerini said, “We'll have to see about. But I think they'll be the least of our problems now. I just hope that door is open now so that we can finally get out of this place.” _Not that that will get us out of trouble though_ , she thought. _Somehow I don't think those githyanki will settle for shaking hands and going our separate ways._

The group passed a few small clusters of mindflayers, all of them standing motionless, looking very stunned. They certainly didn't react to the adventurers passing them by, and Rini suspected that it would take them some time to recover from the shock of the Elder Brain's death, if they ever would. Even better, the doors leading back out into the Underdark were now open, and they could walk out of the illithid lair without further challenge. They had gone only a short way back towards Ust Natha when four tall figures stepped out of the shadows behind a large rock. An underwater lake lay nearby, a narrow bridge leading across its black water. Now and then there was a splash as a blind, white fish broke the water. 

“So. You survive, and it is time for our business to be concluded,” Don said, stepping closer, meeting the adventurers in the middle of the bridge. 

“Small thanks to you,” Anomen angrily said. “What makes you think we have anything further to speak of with you, creature, after you sat on your backsides watching us engage in combat?” 

“Such harsh words. So impolite.” The githyanki leader smiled briefly, his black eyes glinting. One of the other three cracked his knuckles and took a step forward. 

“The boss don't like rudeness,” a second githyanki said. “It makes him put out. You don't wanna do that.” 

“What business do you think you've got with us?” Zaerini asked, taking a deep breath. This is it. Calm and steady, look him straight in the eye. 

“We githyanki are a close...family,” Don said, not blinking. “We talk. Friendly talk, what's going on, business meetings, warplans...thefts.” He paused briefly, waiting for a reaction, then went on. “A silver sword, a holy sword of great power, was stolen from us some time ago. Worse, it was broken, split in two. Through our careful...negotiations...we have recovered the blade. It needs to be reunited with the hilt.” 

“It's death for outsiders to touch the Vorpal Sword!” a third githyanki snarled. “It's death to even look at it!” 

“Don't mind Cousin Vinny,” Don said, smiling again, a smile that reminded Rini uncomfortably of sharks. “He gets excited so easily. But we are civilized people, so let's come to an agreement. We know you have the hilt. The thief Saemon Havarian gave it to you, and though you look different than the descriptions given by our agents on his ship, we had time to study you as you slept in the cage next to ours. We know who you are. And we are Sword Stalkers. If one of our silver swords falls into the wrong hands, we bring it back.” 

“Wit da heads of da thieves on top!” said the last githyanki, chuckling. 

“Quite,” Don said, frowning briefly. “So. You seem like sensible people, people who know their limitations. People who value their health. Good health is the most important thing. More than success, more than money, more than power. Don't throw it away. Give us the hilt.” 

“And if we don't?” Rini asked, still not taking her eyes off him. 

The githyanki leader shrugged. “Then we kill you. Nothing personal. It's strictly business.” 

“Show it to me first.” 

Don frowned again. “What?” 

“Show it to me,” Rini said, and now she was smiling too. She felt so alive, so full of energy that it ought to be crackling off her fingertips. “I think you're bluffing, I don't think you've got a sword at all.” _And I don't think you know that I know what this kind of sword can do, either. Good old Candlekeep library._ “Show it to me, then I'll let you have what I've got. Or we could fight, but there's five of us against four of you. Are you really that sure you'll win? Are you?” 

For a moment she thought the githyanki would refuse. His pale yellow face might as well have been carved from stone, but then he shrugged. “Such insults, from such a little girl? But if it lets us end this game, you can see it.” He carefully reached across his shoulder, gingerly pulling out a narrow, silver blade. It looked very thin, but razor-sharp, as if it could cut light itself. The githyanki held it out across his palms. 

“Thanks,” Rini said, smiling brightly at him. “And here's mine.” She took out the silver sword hilt that Saemon Havarian had foisted off on her what felt like ages ago, and she rammed it hard against the githyanki leader's knuckles. Don screamed, his fingers clenching the sword, and then his shriek rose even higher, pain mingled with horror. A brief, metallic 'clang' as the blade hit the ground was accompanied by the soft patter of ten falling bits of still twitching flesh. “Ooopsie,” Rini said, hurrying to pick the blade up. “You dropped this.” She felt the blade slide into the hit with a satisfying 'snick', and there was a brief blue flash as the magic took hold, reuniting the two pieces. The roar in her ears was rising higher, the heat inside burning like a furnace, comfort against the cold night. _So good._ The sword twisted in her hands, almost as if it was alive, and Don's head sailed through the air, landing in the water with a resounding splash. Warm blood spurted across her face, and she didn't care. It felt good, it was as it should be. She turned towards the three remaining githyanki, still smiling. “Well, that's one of you gone to sleep with the fishies. Wanna join in?” 

Given the speed with which they turned and ran, she decided that the offer had just been refused.


	165. Plunges and Urges

**Cards Reshuffled 165 – Plunges and Urges**

_There will come certain times in every person’s life when they have to make an important choice. The choice may seem very clear at the time, or it may be a difficult dilemma. No matter which it is, the outcome of your choice may well affect many people other than yourself. And in the heat of the moment it is so extremely easy to forget that, and to simply plunge ahead._

_Excerpt from ’Interview With An Assassin’_

The sun was slowly setting over the city of Suldanesselar, making the shimmering spires and palaces gleam a rosy pink. Settled as it was among the tops of the mighty trees of the Tethyr forest, the city seemed as serene and peaceful as a swan gliding across the surface of a clear lake, and just as ignorant of what might be going on in the depths below. On one of the walkways leading towards the Royal Palace, two finely dressed elves were walking along, deep in conversation. Nothing about their appearance would have hinted that they weren’t in fact elves at all. 

”I can’t believe we’re doing this,” the female muttered, not for the first time. ”I mean, I can sing, a bit. Not as good as Rini, but good enough to get by. But to a Queen? And you, didya ever even so much as touch a harp?”  
”Oh, certainly,” the male elf said. He frowned briefly. ”Though perhaps using a harp string as an improvised garrotte doesn’t quite count in this context.”  
”Not unless you’re gonna strangle Queen Ellesime, no! Come on, let’s skip town.”  
”Imoen, we still don’t know what is going on here. Our presence here, and our current appearance, was the result of strong magic. Add to that the presence of Bodhi and her brother, so different from when we last saw them, and it makes for a very curious situation.”  
Imoen shivered briefly. ”I know. Even knowing he’s here, in the city, makes my skin crawl, but…I guess we’ve gotta find out what’s going on, right? I’ll do my best.”  
”You are doing very well indeed,” Vadrak Dekaras said, patting the girl carefully on the shoulder. ”You survived Irenicus not once, but twice. That would take true strength.”  
”Even if I went a bit nuts?” Imoen said, her smile having just a hint of a dark edge to it.  
”Even so. But nevertheless I hardly want to put a greater strain on your sanity than is necessary, so I assure you that I shall do my utmost to avoid subjecting you to my playing the harp. Does that reassure you?”  
Imoen’s smile brightened a bit, reaching her eyes. ”Yup,” she said. ”It does.”

-*-

As they entered Queen Ellesime’s palace, the two rogues were quite relieved to learn that they apparently wouldn’t be called upon to perform at once. The assembled elven court was still at table, and a different troupe of musicians were playing on a low dais at one end of the room.  
”You’ll be up after the fruit is served,” they were informed by a richly dressed elf who seemed to be in charge of organizing the festitivites. ”The Queen is anxious for everybody to hear you, and wishes to ensure that hunger doesn’t distract her guests from your music.”  
”How reassuring,” Dekaras murmured. He still hadn’t worked out a plausible excuse for not performing, and he certainly hoped one would come to him soon. _Before I have to resort to setting fire to the place to avoid utter humiliation, that is. While it might work, the utter destruction of an elven city wouldn’t be the most subtle of moves._  
”So now what?” Imoen whispered once they had been left to themselves.  
”I suggest we blend in as well as we can, and keep our eyes open. For one person in particular, I should say.”  
There was a bleak look in Imoen’s eyes, but she nodded. ”Yeah. We’d better keep track of him at least. He’s up to something bad, you heard him earlier.”  
Dekaras was already scanning the crowd, searching for that one elven face, the one with the cold blue eyes. Queen Ellesime was there, at the head of the table, a tense look on her face. She was speaking with the elf next to her, but she seemed distracted. No sign of Irenicus though. _No, Joneleth. That was his name at this time._

The dining hall was brightly lit, delicate glass globes filled with golden light floated under the ceiling, chasing all the shadows away. The voices of the elves were bright and cheerful, soaring like music. The air was heavy with the sweet scent of flowers in bloom, of the finest food and the most exquisite wine that Suldanesselar could muster. And the two human rogues in disguise barely noticed any of them, both of them focused on one thing only. Irenicus may not have been present, but that didn’t mean his presence wasn’t felt. 

”Look!” Imoen whispered, nudging Dekaras in the side. She nodded towards Queen Ellesime. The Queen had been approached by one of the servitors, who had passed her a folded note. She read it quickly, her face inscrutable, and then she stood up. Around the tables, elves scrambled to their feet along with her, but she made a quick dismissive wave with her hand.  
”Be seated,” she said, her voice clear and firm. ”There is a small matter that requires my attention, but that is no reason why my guests should not enjoy themselves in my absence. Feast and be merry, and I shall return shortly.”  
As she swept out of the room, Dekaras and Imoen exchanged one quick nod, and then trailed after her, exiting through a side door that allowed them to spot her moving down the corridor. Dekaras found himself wondering about the total absence of bodyguards. True, this wasn’t Thay where any ruler capable enough to become a ruler would always be prepared for assassination attempts, but even so it seemed foolhardy. Whatever the case might be, Ellesime strode quickly along the blue carpet lining the corridor, never turning around. Eventually she exited through a small door, and stepped outside into a kind of alcove of thick branches. They were woven through by vines covered with fragrant white flowers, tightly enough that the night sky could only just be glimpsed through them. 

The two rogues followed the elven queen outside, quietly slipping behind a low bench that provided enough covering to keep them hidden. Ellesime certainly made no sign of having noticed them, she stood silently in the middle of the alcove, her hands folded in front of her. A few minutes passed, and then there was a shimmer in the air, and a ghostly figure appeared, floating a few inches above the ground. Dekaras could feel his muscles tensing as he viewed the sending, and he felt Imoen trembling slightly beside him. She kept quiet though, not betraying her presence. _She is good. More so than I remembered._ The magical image did not speak at once, its penetrating eyes focused on Ellesime. The Queen nodded. ”Joneleth. You requested an audience?”  
The transparent figure smiled faintly, and when it spoke again there was a trace of humour in the cultured voice. ”So formal, Ellesime? Am I then out of favour?”  
”You know perfectly well that you are,” she responded, her voice icy. ”And if you care to regain it, you may start with addressing me in the proper manner.”  
”Very well, ’My Queen’. But you should know that I do not come begging for favour. The time for that is long past. Tonight, I come for what is my rightful due. One last time I will ask that you grant it to me, and then never again.” His voice lowered into a near whisper, but it was still as forceful as before. ”Grant me access to the Tree, Ellesime. You know as well as I do that there is not, never has been, a mage as powerful as I in Suldanesselar. There is nobody more capable than I to study it, to draw upon its power. Think of what I could learn, what I could do! You cannot deny me this. You must not.”  
The Queen shook her head. ”I can, Joneleth,” she said. ”I must. The Tree of Life is not to be a tool for your ambition.”

The ghostly image wavered for a moment, but the grimace that turned the handsome elven face ugly was still clearly visible. ”Because it is already a tool for yours, Ellesime? Without your connection to the Tree, would your rule over Suldanesselar truly be as uncontested as it is?” He floated closer to her, glaring into her face. ”I have a mind competent enough to understand the Tree, to make full use of it as it is meant to be used! What do you have?”  
”My sire’s blessing and permission, Joneleth.”  
”Ah yes, the perfect excuse. The high and mighty daughter of Rillifane, deigning to descend from on high to rule over us all.” He smirked. ”Sometimes I wonder – is he truly your father, or was that just an excuse to cover the fact that some brutish human sneaked into your mother’s chambers one fine evening? Do you perhaps use glamour spells to give your ears the proper shape?”  
Ellesime blanched, and her voice was trembling with fury when she spoke again. ”You dare speak to me thus? Have care, Joneleth, or one day soon you will learn exactly what a daughter of Rillifane is capable of.”  
The image threw its head back and laughed, a loud and ringing laughter that had no real mirth in it. ”It’s too late for that, Ellesime. It has already begun.” He stopped laughing and simply watched her, blue eyes glittering. ”You should have known by now that unlike you, I am fully capable of doing two things at a time. I was already prepared to move, and the moment you denied me what I am due, I set things in motion.”  
The Queen’s face was a mask of shock. ”What are you doing?! The Tree…stop it! You must stop it, at once!”  
”No! The hour of my triumph is at hand, and it’s time to end your reign, Ellesime! My connection to the Tree has been established, you cannot break it now without causing immense destruction. You know as well as I do, you are not prepared…”  
”I AM!” The roar of fury seemed too loud to be contained by the elven queen’s slim body, and even as it escaped her lips white light flared up around her, so intense as to be blinding. Dekaras instinctively squeezed his eyes shut, his hand covering Imoen’s face. There was another scream, a scream of shock and pain, that seemed to come at the same time from close by and over a great distance. Magic hung in the air, pressing in on him like a heavy weight, crackling in his ears, poking at the empty space inside. He tried to breathe, to focus on that, but he seemed to have forgotten how. There were other screams now, these ones definitely from far away, more and more of them by the moment. The assassin opened his eyes, blinking to clear his vision of floating purple swirls and sparkling stars. Ellesime was gone, and so was the image of Irenicus. He looked out through the branches, at the city far below. The sky had been lit up by more than stars, there was fire off in the distance, blazing branches against the black of the night. _Impossible. No tree could possibly be that big, could it?_ Buildings were burning too, now, and the screams were growing stronger by the moment. By now, he could smell smoke, and not just woodsmoke either, but the smell of burning flesh.

”We’ve gotta go!” Imoen yelled, yanking at his sleeve. ”It’s coming closer!”  
Dekaras nodded. She was right of course, they did need to get out. _Have to focus now, must concentrate._ It was rare for magic to affect him this badly, even powerful magic. What had happened down below must have been truly immense. He forced himself to get moving, picking up the pace as he went along. There were crowds of panicking elves around them now, running frantically for the exits, trying to get away, screaming. Close by, a woman fell, and didn’t get up again, the crowd surging over her broken body as mindlessly as a wave breaks against the shore. He pulled Imoen closer, trying to shield her from the same fate. A red face in front of him, wild eyes, mouth an open ’O’ of terror. Hands clutching, nearly dragging him down. His elbow met with soft flesh, splintering teeth. Feet kicking the grasping arms aside, letting them be swallowed by the mob. _Concentrate._ Imoen was still with him, her hands red with blood much like his own were, her eyes blank. _She knows the price of survival. He taught her that, didn’t he, with his experiments, with his sick games? The bastard._

They were outside now, free of the confines of the Palace if not yet clear of danger. The bridges between the great trees were all crowded, some of them set aflame, and now and then there was a black shape tumbling into the void. The soft thuds of bodies hitting the ground were nearly drowned out by the screaming and the roar of the fire, but they were still there. Stopping partially to catch their breath, partially to survey the situation, the two rogues paused on a broad branch, looking for a way down. Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be one. The walkway they should have taken was just crumbling into the depths below, taking with it about a dozen of screaming elves. Their hair and clothes had been set ablaze by the surrounding branches, and they burned like torches even as they fell. Imoen winced, but she didn’t avert her eyes. ”What now?” she asked, her voice hoarse.  
”We’ll have to climb,” Dekaras said, hoping he sounded more relaxed about the prospect than he felt. Normally he enjoyed climbing a great deal, but climbing down a huge burning tree, while wearing not just elven finery but a different body than his own wasn’t a prospect that appealed to him.  
”No,” Imoen said, and her sad smile was a flash of white against her sooty face. ”Look.”  
Dekaras looked, and was unable to hold back a brief curse. Not just the branches above, but the trunk below them was on fire now, and he could feel the tree swaying more and more. We cannot get out.  
”Sure we can,” Imoen said, making him wonder if he had spoken aloud. ”We’re just gonna…take a leap of faith, that’s all.” She walked a little further out on the branch, then held her hand out. The assassin hesitated a moment, then took it. It was small, but surprisingly steady.  
”I am sorry,” he said. ”I never meant for this to happen.”  
”Hey, it’s all right.” She winked at him. ”Least we didn’t have to sing and play the harp, right? You ready?”  
Dekaras nodded. ”Always,” he said.  
The final step, they took together. 

-*-

_Deep within the depths of the Underdark…_

It was strange how subdued her friends had seemed during the walk back to Ust Natha, Zaerini thought. Dealing with first the Elder Brain and then the Githyanki had left her elated, her heart was beating quickly and she could feel a warm flush in her cheeks. Yet the others all looked as if they were marching to their doom, and she couldn’t understand that at all.  
”So,” she tried, ”That was fun, wasn’t it? Anybody up for celebrating when we get back? Drinks are on me, I’ll even get you those weird spidermilk ones with the pink umbrellas if you want to go wild and crazy. What do you say, huh?”  
”Alas, I need to attend to my prayers,” Anomen said. ”Besides, that inn is an unseemly place, filled with sinister and dangerous people best avoided.”  
”Yeah, I know, that’s the best thing about it. Anybody else?”  
”I also need to pray,” Jaheira said, frowning. ”It will need to be an especially long session this evening.”  
”Right. Minsc?”  
”Minsc will come in a speedy gallop if his Witch calls, but first Boo needs his evening bath, for the blood of those Githyanki has clotted his fur and made him very surly.”  
Rini sighed quietly, and turned to Edwin. She didn’t speak, she simply sought his eyes. He met them, but there was a worrying look there, one she couldn’t quite interpret but that made her stomach twitch nervously.  
”I must memorize my spells upon our return,” he said, ”or our next battle will see me resorting to conjuring rabbits out of hats. Once that is done with, we need to talk.”  
_Uh Oh. That is never, ever a good phrase, is it? What’s wrong with him? What’s wrong with them all? Why are they all looking at me like I’m ill?  
You mean, apart from the fact that you had your soul ripped out?_ Softpaws asked. _Kitten, humans can be odd at times. They did seem bothered by your latest hunt, not that I see why. You needed to kill, and you killed well.  
Yeah! Exactly! It’s not as if we’ve never seen blood before, is it? They’ve got no call to be acting like this, none at all!_  
”Fine,” she said, her voice a little cold. ”I guess I’ll just entertain myself then. Maybe I’ll manage to find somebody who won’t mind my company.”  
The rest of the journey was spent in uncomfortable silence, and once they had reached the inn Rini walked directly into the common room and sat down at the most central table she could find. She wanted to be seen, and she didn’t care if there was still blood on her face, in fact she almost hoped somebody would decide to say something about it so she’d have an excuse to fight again.  
_Then again, this is the Underdark. Don’t think I need all that much of an excuse, really._  
Just as they had said they would, her friends all disappared to their rooms, leaving her alone. _Fine. I can have fun on my own, if they all want to be boring._ She ordered a drink, a green and fizzy one named ’Goblin Gurgler’ that smelled oddly spicy, and took a careful sip. Not bad, even if it made her lips feel slightly numb. After a while, her mood had improved a little.  
”Drinking all alone, Veldrin? That hardly befits the savior of the Matron Mother’s first daughter.”  
Rini looked up sharply, and directly into a pair of amused red eyes. ”Oh, hello Alythrae!” she said, smiling at the Drow bard. ”Good to see you again. You heard about Phaere then?”  
”News travel fast in Ust Natha,” Alythrae said, gracefully sitting down at the table and signaling a servant for a drink of her own. ”Your favor is rising, it seems. I hope you’ll take advantage of it, it could make you rise high.”  
”Well,” Zaerini said, ”We’ll see what Phaere has to say when we see her next. Let’s hope you’re right.”  
”Oh, I know I am. Just serve her well, and don’t provoke her like Solaufein always does, and you will do well.”  
”Mmm. Speaking of Solaufein, what’s up with the two of them anyway? Bad blood?”  
”You might say that,” Alythrae said, thoughtfully running a slim dark finger along the rim of her winegoblet. ”But I shouldn’t speak of it, not many know the story and Phaere wouldn’t like it if she found out I told the tale. Trust me, you don’t want to make her angry.” Then, she winked. ”Then again, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, and I doubt you’ll tell on me since that would make her almost as angry with you for knowing as with me for telling. Come up to my room with me, and I’ll let you in on the juicy gossip.”  
”All right,” Rini said, her head spinning just a little bit as she stood up. She couldn’t remember actually finishing her drink, but the glass was empty so she must have. _Heh. Goblins are tricky little bastards, aren’t they?_ A bit unsteady on her feet, she nevertheless managed to navigate up the stairs after Alythrae, down a couple of corridors and into a luxurious suite of rooms. _Wow. I knew she was good, but she must be really popular as well if her performing pays this well._  
”So,” Alythrae said as she curled up on an enormous bed covered with red sheets and what seemed to be dozens of pillows. ”Phaere and Solaufein. Where to begin?”  
”At the beginning?” Rini suggested, eyeing the pillows. There was one shaped like a heart, one shaped like a mouth, and over there was one shaped like something entirely different and very recognizable. _Don’t giggle. Don’t giggle. Oh, how I wish Immy could have seen this, she’d have been ready to burst._  
”Of course. Phaere and Solaufein were lovers once, and there is nothing odd about that, in itself. What was odd was the…attachment that seemed to form between them.”  
”Attachment?”  
”Yes,” Alythrae said, looking pensive. She ran a slim finger along the side of her jaw as she pondered. ”There was something between them not usually present between Drow. Something that the Matron Mother wouldn’t permit. I am, of course, speaking about love. Tell me Veldrin, do you know about love?” She leaned forward, an intent look in her red eyes.  
”Um…” Zaerini said, uncertain how to go on. A fleeting image of Edwin’s face filled her mind, and she could feel her face heat slightly.  
”Ah, don’t worry, I’m sorry for teasing you,” Alythrae said with a quick, warm laugh. ”There’s no need to answer, but if you don’t mind I’ll guess that you’ve wondered about it from time to time. You are a bard after all, like myself, and where would we be if we didn’t explore all sorts of emotions so that we might improve our craft? Without emotions, we might as well have golems to pluck the harpstrings for us. Don’t you agree?”  
”Absolutely,” Rini said, feeling just a little dizzy by the quick flow of words. She wondered what it was about the other woman that made her feel so out of her league, and at the same time so eager to please. _Don’t be stupid. She’s really skilled, of course you want to learn more from her._  
”At any rate,” Alythrae went on, ”the Matron Mother found out about the whole thing, and she punished both her daughter and Solaufein severely. It lasted a long time, and once it was over and done with, Phaere and Solaufein were as they are now. Dutiful daughter, obedient male, more or less.” She raised her hand in a warning gesture. ”I tell you this Veldrin, because I would not enjoy seeing you flogged or worse. Never, ever bring what you’ve heard here up in front of Phaere. Not with Solaufein either, but especially not Phaere. He would resent you for it, but she’d have you flayed alive. Do you understand?”  
”I understand,” Rini said with a fervent nod. ”Of all the things I’d like to do in Ust Natha, making Phaere want to rip my heart out is pretty far down the list.”  
”Good,” Alythrae said, smiling. ”I do enjoy your company Veldrin, it’s so nice to have somebody to talk to who follows the craft.” Her eyes brightened. ”I know! I’ll have to show you around the city some. Would you like that? And perhaps the upcoming talent scouting…yes, I’m sure you’d love that, it’s marvellous fun. What do you say?”  
”Sounds great,” Rini said, smiling back. Then her face fell slightly. ”Oh…I promised I’d do something tonight.” _Though the idea of that ’talk’ isn’t really tempting right now._  
”Ah, what a shame. But the scouting will be going on for several evenings yet, there’s plenty of time. Perhaps just a quick drink or two?” Alythrae smiled again, placing her hand lightly on Zaerini’s shoulder. ”Then I promise I’ll release you to whatever mundane task you have to look forward to. You are the leader of your group after all, surely they don’t expect you to be at their complete beck and call?”  
”No,” Rini said, and it came out a little more fiercely than she had originally intended. ”Of course they don’t.” She nodded, smiling back at her new friend. ”I’d love to come.”

-*-

It was perhaps two or three hours later that she returned to her room, in a considerably happier mood than she had been before she went out. It didn’t last long.  
”Where have you been?” Edwin asked, looking up from the thick spellbook he’d been pouring over. He didn’t sound angry, or irritated. That was worrying. She’d have felt more at ease if he had, this slowly simmering calm made her clear her throat uncomfortably.  
”Out,” she said, deliberately turning her back on him to pull her boots off. ”Having fun.”  
”With whom?”  
”Just somebody I ran into,” She replied, putting a slight sting into her voice. ”Seeing the rest of you were all so busy, can you blame me?”  
”You went out on the town with some strange Drow you met in a bar,” Edwin said, and now his voice was getting a bit louder. ”Does that sound in the slightest way sensible to you? Does it?! Or does it sound like the actions of somebody who lost her brain rather than her soul?!”  
”At least,” Rini snarled, ”She seemed to be enjoying my company, unlike you!”  
”I do enjoy your company, you idiotic female! Even if right now I have to suppress a very strong urge to strangle you with my bare hands.”  
”Oh yeah? Then why did you look at me that way, earlier today?” She sat down heavily on the bed, looking away from him. Her throat was burning hot, and there was a heavy lump in it that made it difficult to speak. ”I know what Irenicus did to me,” she said. ”I know he turned me into a freak. A monster. You don’t have to remind me of it. Especially not you.”  
Then she could feel his arms around her shoulders, warm and comforting, and he pulled her closer. She pressed her face against his robes, and inhaled quickly. There was the spicy tang of all those spell components he carried around, and underneath that the scent that was uniquely him. ”Eddie,” she started to say. ”I…I’m…”  
”Sssh,” he said, his arms wrapping themselves even tighter around her. ”You are not a freak, or a monster. He is the monster. (And when I catch up with him, he will be left in a state that will render him unsuitable for even the most macabre of freakshows.).” He cleared his throat, briefly. ”I was merely worried about you, earlier. What you did…” He was silent for a moment. ”Far be it from me to lecture you about how you should never remove an irritating obstacle such as those Githyanki from among the ranks of the living, but the manner of it left something to be desired. In your current state, you are vulnerable in a manner you weren’t before. If you give in to these urges of yours too often, you could come to great harm. I would never want that.”  
”I know. I’ll try, I promise. I really will.” She sniffed a little, wiping quickly at her eyes, and then she straightened up and smiled at him. ”Eddie? What about some of my other urges? Think it’d be safe to act on those?”  
He returned her smile, and leaned in closer, his breath warm on her face. ”I think,” he murmured, ”That would be entirely advisable.”


	166. The Favour Of House Despana

**Cards Reshuffled 166 – The Favour Of House Despana**

_The displeasure of princes is not to be courted, but sometimes there is equal course to fear their pleasure._

_Excerpt from ’The Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

”So, perhaps you aren’t entirely incompetent, Veldrin.” Phaere Despana casually glanced at the small group assembled before her. The priestess was smiling slightly, a smile that contained no trace of warmth whatsoever. Three paces behind her, Solaufein stood silently awaiting orders, the very picture of male obedience and servitude. There was something about his manner of looking at Phaere though, something that seemed just a little off to Edwin. Also somehow familiar, as if he were looking at a familiar face in a cracked mirror. 

_No, that’s preposterous. Fortunately I have never before set foot in a city populated by murderous Drow, and hopefully it will be the last time. Pretending subservience is just so…frustrating! How they manage it for years on end I will never know._

”We consider ourselves a force to be reckoned with, your Holiness,” Zaerini said, looking Phaere straight in the eyes. Her voice was firm, polite but in no way that of a woman addressing one above her in station, and for a moment Edwin worried that she’d gone too far. He needn’t have worried however, for Phaere’s smile widened a little.

”Do you now?” She said. ”Well, here in Ust Natha you will need to prove yourselves if you wish to achieve position. Fortunately enough for you, I’m about to give you just such an opportunity. Carry out my commands well, and you will gain my favor, and that of House Despana. Interesting prospects, no?”

Zaerini nodded. ”Of course,” she said. ”What is it that you would have us do?”

Phaere pursed her lips briefly. ”The first task is simple,” she said. ”The pathetic gnome tribe to the west of Ust Natha has proven less than respectful lately. You and your group will remedy that by properly intimidating them. Kill as many of them as necessary, but I especially want you to kill their snivelling little rat of a chieftain. Without him, they’ll lose direction and all will to even try to resist the might of Ust Natha. Kill him, and bring me his helmet as proof of your success.” She laughed, sounding genuinely amused. ”Oh, come to think of it, make sure his head is still inside.”

If Zaerini felt any hesitation at this, she didn’t show it. ”It will be done,” She said. ”Those wretched gnomes will soon feel the wrath of the Drow, and regret their impertinence.” 

”Good.” Phaere nodded, her eyes gleaming. ”I have some hopes for you, Veldrin. See that you do not disappoint me.”

-*-

”You cannot seriously mean to do this,” Anomen flatly said. ”Those gnomes are innocent.”

”What was I supposed to do, refuse?” Zaerini glared back at the cleric, and there was a dangerous look in her red eyes. ”She wouldn’t have enjoyed that. She’d have had me killed for sure, and don’t think she’d spare the rest of you.”

”Even so, this is wrong, and we must not do it. We are not assassins.”

”Regrettably so,” Edwin said in a scathing voice. ”Perhaps if you were, we would already be doing something to improve our situation rather than sit around lamenting your precious paladinesque principles. Good thing you didn’t come along to the meeting to spout platitudes in front of Phaere.” _How I wish Teacher Dekaras were here. He’d already have sorted this out, with none of this tedium._ Worry briefly stung Edwin’s insides, making him shift uneasily in his chair. _If only there were some way to make certain he’s allright. But we can hardly ask any Drow mages or clerics to perform a scrying._

”Little Rini won’t kill the poor gnome, will she?” Minsc said, his eyes wide and reproachful. ”Killing poor little gnomes is not the deed of a Hero.”

”What if the gnome is named Jansen?” Edwin suggested. ”I would say that would make it a deed heroic enough to have people rejoicing in the streets, possibly even throwing flowerpetals and composing bad poetry. (And some of us would gladly do it for free.)”

Anomen looked as if he was about to say something, but then fell silent. He looked rather thoughtful for a moment, and so did Jaheira. The druid recovered first. ”That is not the issue,” She said. ”We still must decide how to approach this situation. What do you intend, child?”

Zaerini sat silent for a short while, thinking, while her fingers idly stroked Softpaws black fur. The cat purred softly, her eyes halfclosed. ”That all depends on how the gnomes respond to us, doesn’t it?” She said. ”I’ll try to avoid killing the chieftain, since that’s important to you, but I have to keep all options open. You understand that, right?”

”I do,” Jaheira said in a firm voice. ”No Anomen, listen to me. I don’t condone unnecessary violence, but remember, we must blend in among the Drow, or none of us will survive this. Zaerini will do her best to avoid attacking the gnomes.” She turned to look at the bard. ”Will you not? For your own sake, if not for ours.”

The younger woman sighed, and then shrugged. ”I’ll try,” She said. 

The group headed out of Ust Natha not long afterwards, walking mostly in silence. Edwin noticed Anomen and Jaheira walking together, conversing silently, but he paid little attention whatever they were saying as it was bound to be uninteresting anyway. _Probably discussing ferns or acorns, or the mating habits of bears. Hm, come to think of it, she is a druid. I wonder if she ever tried…no, no. Don’t go there, Edwin. Just don’t._ He forced the disturbing thought away, and turned to his lover instead. ”You have a plan for how to deal with the gnomes, of course,” He said. 

She smiled wanly, and fidgeted with the sheath to her sword, trying to adjust it. ”Well…sort of. A few.”

”You do know, a few well aimed fireballs would sort the whole problem out without even requiring us to look for their chief especially.” He rolled his eyes. ”If these piddling little concerns of the others bother you, I can always claim that I slipped and my finger went off by accident. (Much as I would prefer to take proper credit for it.)”

Zaerini snorted with sudden laughter, a sound so welcome it made the wizard feel just as warm inside as any roasted gnome. ”Oh Eddie, I do love you. But tempting or not, it would make it a bit hard to find the chief and his helm if you burn the whole village to the ground, wouldn’t it?”

”Ah,” Edwin said, his face falling a little. ”I suppose it would, at that. Just remember that I’m ready and eager to help, should you require it.”

She smiled up at him, and for a moment the look in her eyes was almost that of her old self. ”I’ll remember. Thanks, Eddie.” Then she sighed, pointing ahead. ”Well. Looks like we’re there.”

It appeared that the gnome sentries had already noticed the approaching party of apparent Drow. A shrill horn suddenly sounded from ahead, and was followed by shouting voices. Perhaps a dozen gnomes appeared from within the village of Gnome-Again, all of them armed and all of them still looking very nervous. 

”What do the Dark Ones want here?” One of them asked. ”We have nothing of worth to great ones such as yourselves, but anything we can get…”

”Be silent, insect,” Zaerini said in a voice cold as ice. ”Ust Natha has no use for worthless gnome trinkets. Nothing you own could possibly compare to the belongings of the lowest Drow in the city.” She sneered, and placed her hand on the hilt of her sword.   
”What Ust Natha demands of you is respect. You have been lax in showing it lately.”

”We…we will grovel, oh great Dark Ones, we will plead and abase ourselves, anything you…”

”Did I give you permission to speak?” The disguised bard hissed, and even Edwin felt a little taken aback. She sounds as if she is about to rip his heart out with her bare hands. ”What we want, is one trifling little thing,” Zaerini said. ”Bring your leader here – Gandolan, is it? I want to speak to him.” 

It wasn’t long before Gandolan appeared. The gnome was sweating heavily, and he kept fiddling with the silver medallion around his neck. ”Ah…welcome to our humble village, oh most noble guests,” He said. ”How may I…”

”Spare me your feeble attempts at diplomacy, gnome,” Zaerini interrupted him. ”The message I carry for you from Ust Natha is this – your head is wanted. Oh, and your helmet, not that I see you wearing one.”

”O-only for weekends,” Gandolan stammered. ”My head? My…but…”

”But why haven’t I taken it already? Good question. I doubt your people would be able to stop me, even if they wanted to. And I’m not all that certain they would want to risk their lives for you, since the alternative is that I simply take your head and leave theirs alone.” Edwin looked at the assembled gnomes. No, none of them were attempting to attack, and several of them were trying to back away without seeming to. ”However,” Zaerini smoothly continued, ”There is an alternative. Come closer. Let me tell you all about it.” 

The gnome hesitantly stepped closer, and for a brief, maddening moment Edwin was reminded of certain stories Teacher Dekaras had told him as a child. Tales of ogres, or flesh-eating hags. There was one very important rule in those stories, to never ever ever go along with the monster. _What are you thinking? This is no monster! Soul or no soul, it’s her!_ He shook his head, trying to clear it of the ridiculous notion, but there was something about the eager, almost hungry way she looked at the gnome that… _No. No, no, no. Stop it. Don’t even think about it._

Whatever Zaerini told him, it made Gandolan go a little pale. ”I…yes,” He said. ”It will be done. Come with me.” 

”Don’t be ridiculous. We’re not about to entery your miserable village just so you can lead us into some kind of trap. No, we’ll wait right here, and you have exactly ten minutes to give me what I want.” She pointed at Edwin, who startled. ”Otherwise, my companion here will burn your village to the ground, and all of you along with it.”

”But…”

”Ten minutes.” She tapped her foot against the ground. ”Don’t keep us waiting.”

The wait seemed quite a lot longer than ten minutes to Edwin. Jaheira and Anomen kept watching his lover with stony faces, Minsc looked worried but thankfully kept from blurting something out, and Zaerini…she was the only one who seemed perfectly calm. The bard was humming softly to herself, tapping her foot in time with the rhythm. It wasn’t a song Edwin recognized, and it sounded like Drow music to him. _When did she learn that so well?_

Finally a group of cowering gnomes approached, one of them holding a dark, round object carefully in his arms. As he held it out, Edwin saw that it was, indeed, a helmet. There was a soft sound too, one he couldn’t quite place at first, apart from the scuffling of the gnomes’ feet and their rapid breathing. Then he saw it. Drops, dark drops falling to the ground at irregular intervals. His eyes felt glued to that helmet, as if they were trying to see straight through the metal. Zaerini reached her hand out and took it, then flipped open the visor and looked inside. Her face remained calm, unreadable. ”That’s all,” She said. ”You can all go now.” The gnomes didn’t need to be told that twice. They were gone and the gates to the village had slammed shut behind them almost before the sentence was finished. 

”What,” Jaheira said in a tense voice, ”Is that?” She pointed at the helmet. 

The bard smiled faintly. ”What I expected. Have a look.” She held the helmet up. Drip drop fell that dark fluid to the ground. Edwin looked closer, to see the face of a very dead, and very surprised-looking gnome peering back at him. It wasn’t Gandolan, he could see that even if the face was rather bruised and battered. 

”I suggested to Gandolan that in the eyes of most Drow, including Phaere, one gnome will look much the same as another,” Zaerini commented. ”Especially if the gnome is wearing the helmet she specifically asked for. I then suggested that if he didn’t want to part with his own head, it might be a good idea to find me an alternative.”

”And where do you suppose he did that?!” Jaheira asked, her voice now a low growl. ”Where?”

”How should I know? We know several gnomes died in that cave-in of theirs, he said so when we met him before. This could be one of them, I suppose.”

”That was some days ago! This head is still bleeding!”

Zaerini shrugged, and then smiled a faint half-smile that made Edwin’s stomach curl itself into a small, icy ball. That smile was…wrong. It reminded him of sunlight glittering off the scales of a snake, colourful, beautiful, poisonous. ”A spell, maybe? Or could be he found a head somewhere else. He’s a politician, they’re good at self-preservation. You want to go back and ask him?”

Jaheira’s dark face had paled to an unpleasant shade of grey, but her voice betrayed nothing of her emotions. ”No,” She curtly said. 

Zaerini smiled brightly, tucked the helment under her arm, and rubbed her hands together, seemingly as oblivious to the looks her friends were giving her as to the stains her burden had left on her slim fingers. ”Great!” She said. ”This conversation was starting to get boring anyway. Let’s get back to Ust Natha. I want to have some more fun.” 

-*-

”So, this is the chief of those impudent Svirfneblin, is it?” Phaere Despana smiled a fleeting smile as she peered into the grubby helmet she was holding. The face of a dead gnome stared back at her, glassy eyes wide open in frozen horror. She rather liked the look, she decided. ”Solaufein, make yourself useful for a change and tidy this away. I believe the Matron Mother’s favourite spider would enjoy a light snack.” She handed the severed head to the warrior standing by her side, smirking inwardly at the brief look of distaste on his face. Needling Solaufein was always enjoyable, it was one of her favourite pastimes. _And he deserves every single barb._

She turned to regard the group of adventurers standing before her. Most of them she payed only cursory attention to, as subordinates, though she did register that they seemed to be watching their leader with some apprehension. That hadn’t been present before, or at least not so strongly. _Interesting._ The leader, now, Veldrin, there was where Phaere’s real interest lay. Not a Drow of remarkable strength, size or appearance, there was nevertheless something about her, a presence. A strong will, and the wits to use it. Useful traits in a Houseless female seeking her fortune in a strange city. Also, Veldrin met her gaze steadily, showing respect but not outright fear. Briefly, Phaere wondered if she should have the stranger whipped for that, to leave no hesitation in her mind on where the power lay. But no. _She is still far too useful to me, and may be for some time yet. Then, we shall see._

”You impress me, Veldrin,” She said, tapping a perfectly manicured fingernail idly against the armrest of her chair. ”Clearly you are a female of some prowess.”

”Yes, because slaughtering Svirfneblin clearly requires extraordinary strength and guile,” Solaufein said in a sour voice, not even bothering to hide his mood. ”What will it be next, Phaere? Stepping on worms?”

”Enough!” She hissed, and her arm flared out, miniature sparks of dark light leaping from her fingertips to sear his face. His head was flung back, much as if she’d slapped him, and there were a score of little angry red marks on his skin. ”Remember your place, Solaufein!”

”I remember, Phaere,” He said, not wiping the blood away, which made her even angrier. ”I remember many things. Do you?”

”I said, enough!” It was only with great difficulty that she could contain her anger. ”You overstep your boundaries. Any more, and you will regret it.” _Why is he still alive? Why do I permit him to speak to me that way? Why…_ Memories came upon her unbidden, memories of hands caressing, eyes meeting, souls touching for a brief moment in time. Then other memories, darker ones. Pain, loneliness, her own screams ringing in her ears until she would say anything, do anything, if only to make it stop. _Yes Mother. Yes. I am an obedient daughter. I serve you as I serve Lolth, and Lolth above all others. Only please make it stop!_

Phaere swallowed, forcing the memories away again. She forced herself to breathe, hoping that Veldrin and her companions hadn’t noticed her moment of hesitation. _Curse you, Solaufein, for making me feel like this. Curse you for making me feel in the first place._ ”I will notify the Matron Mother Ardulace of your success, Veldrin,” She said, pleased that her voice was calm and steady once more. ”You have earned the favour of House Despana, and I believe you will be granted an audience with her very soon, for she has an imporant task that requires an able female such as yourself.” She stood to leave, but then had another thought. ”It may be that I will also choose to call on you myself. Should I do so, I expect you to report to me swiftly and promptly, do you understand this?” She barely heard the other woman’s reply, her mind completely focused on her new purpose. _Yes Solaufein. I remember. But the difference between us is that I no longer want to._

-*-

_I really don’t get what their problem is_ , Zaerini thought, irritably kicking at the leg of the chair in which she was sitting. She’d been trying to read, then to write, then to practise some of her songs, but she wasn’t really in the mood for anything. _How can they be so uptight? I get it from Anomen, but the others...what did they expect me to do anyway? Am I supposed to feel guilty about giving Gandolan a way out? They asked me not to kill him, and I didn’t, but are they happy? Oh no, not them. I’d like to see any of them come up with a better plan._

Something occurred to her then, that made a fleeting smile cross her face. _I bet Sarevok would understand. Sometimes there just isn’t a nice way of doing things. Especially when you’re a Bhaalspawn. Yeah, I bet he’d understand. The others don’t._ She winced. _Not even Eddie._

A voice inside her head, as familiar as her own. _They are concerned for you, Kitten._ Softpaws raised her head from her paws, looking back at the half-elf from her spot on the bed. _So am I._

_You? I thought you’d tell me that cats do what they have to when they’re on a hunt._

_Cats don’t worry about what humans might think of them. You do, and it’s making you sad. When you feel sad it’s like an itch between my shoulders that I can’t reach to scratch, or a snarl in my fur I can’t untangle. That’s why I’m concerned for you._

The bard sighed. _I don’t know Softy. I just don’t know anymore. Ever since Irencius stole my soul I haven’t been right. I try to act normal, but it’s getting harder and harder. And even when I try my best the others seem to get all weirded out by me._

_Perhaps you need something to help you relax? A nice long mating session ought to do it._

_Mmm. If he doesn’t act as if I’m made of glass and might break when he touches me. We’ll see. I think I’d better wait a bit at least. They all expect me to feel terribly upset about some random gnome who just got unlucky. Don’t see why, but they do. If I act too happy they’ll try even harder to ’explain’ things to me, Jaheira especially. I’d rather not have to listen to that._

There was a knock on the door, and she went to open it, hoping that perhaps it was Edwin having decided not to act awkward any longer. It wasn’t. Instead it was a drow servant, bearing a small sealed note on a silver tray. She took it, and once the servant had left she read it with curiosity, a small smile playing on her lips. _What do you know, Softy. Seems I’ll get some fun and games after all. Alythrae wants to see me. She says she’ll show me some hot spots around town. Sounds like just the thing I need._ She stood, glancing at the mirror while she hurriedly fixed her hair, and then she grinned, feeling full of life and mischief once more. The gloomy thoughts of just a moment ago had been quite banished. Soul or no soul, there wasn’t anything seriously wrong with her. There couldn’t be, as long as she could feel like this. _I don’t think we’ll need to tell the others. Wouldn’t want them to spoil the fun._

_As you wish, Kitten. Good hunting._

_You’d better believe it._ Zaerini sauntered out the door, her mood quite restored once again. _Finally time to have some fun._

Alythrae certainly seemed very pleased to see her, Zaerini thought. The Drow bard greeted her warmly, and then asked how her day had been. ”I understand your favour with House Despana is on the rise,” She said, winking. ”Phaere may not be the sort to gush, but she’s clearly satisfied with your conduct so far.”

”You seem to know her opinion well,” Rini said. ”How well do you know Phaere?”

The other bard shrugged with a comical grimace. ”How well can anybody know Phaere, really? She’s not the sort to let others get too close. But I’ve got patrons and clients all over Ust Natha, and they tell me all sorts of things.” She grinned. ”I bet you didn’t know that Solaufein’s favorite drink is Pink Passion.”

”Can’t say I’d have guessed, no.” _I bet Immy would love that drink, whatever it is. Gods, I hope she’s all right._ ”So where are we going tonight?”

”Something to eat first,” Alythrae promptly responded. ”And after that, I thought you might like to see the tryouts for The Chosen.” She gave the disguised half-elf a very expectant look, one that made Rini suspect that it wouldn’t be a good idea to mention that she didn’t have a clue what ’The Chosen’ was. _For all I know, it’s something every single Drow knows about._

”Sounds great!” She said, hoping she sounded suitably enthusiastic. _Well, no problem. I’ll just tag along and see what is, and try not to ask any stupid questions._

Dinner, which was had at a very fine eating establishment, was excellent. True, Zaerini didn’t quite know what all the courses consisted of, and thought it was probably best not to ask, but they did taste exquisite. Alythrae was her normal entertaining and amiable self, cheerfully chatting on about various local celebrities and customs of Ust Natha, and listenting with interest to whatever her guest had to say. ”I really enjoy your company, Veldrin,” She said as the two women leaned back in their chairs, full almost to bursting from the meal. ”It’s rare for me to find somebody I enjoy talking to this much, and somebody who shares my love for music as well as for life. Well, they are connected, after all.”

”How do you mean?”

”Why, if you want to make the most out of your music, you must experience life to the fullest,” Alythrae said, sounding more serious now. ”Live, feel, learn as much as you can about what makes us who we are. Learn from others as well as from yourself. Perfecting your technique is invaluable of course, but no technique in the world will make your music truly great if you don’t pour your feelings fully into it.” She was leaning forward now, emphasising her words by tapping her fingers lightly against the soft spidersilk tablecloth. ”Passion, Veldrin. Passion is what will let your music truly soar. You know this, I can tell.”

”I…suppose I do,” Rini slowly said. It felt right, what the other woman was saying. True, she hadn’t had much time to compose lately, but when she had, it had always been best when she was feeling strongly about something. ”Yes. I know what you mean.”

”Of course you do,” Alythrae said, smiling warmly. ”But I fear I’ve allowed myself to get carried away on my pet topic, enough that I’ve nearly made us late. I’m sorry that I have to hurry you along, but we really wouldn’t want to miss the tryouts, now would we?”

”No,” Zaerini said, nodding. She was feeling slightly dazed, possibly by the food and wine, possibly by her interesting companion. ”Wouldn’t want that.”

Alythrae brought her along to a vast arena, where large banners hanging from the walls announced ’The Chosen Tryouts Tonight’. Rini had expected them to have to wait in line, seeing the masses of people crowding around the entrance, but instead Alythrae walked towards a smaller sideentrance. 

”Greetings, Mistress,” Said one of the two muscular females standing guard by the door. ”Shall I direct your companion to a good seat?”

”No, no,” Alythrae laughed merrily. ”I’ll take care of Veldrin myself. In fact, I intend for her to sit in with me.”

The guard looked surprised at this, but she bowed respectfully. ”Of course, Mistress. As you say.”

Rini desperately wanted to ask where they were going, but she also didn’t want to admit her ignorance. So she kept her mouth shut and trailed after Alythrae through dark corridors leading deeper into the building. She could feel the buzz and hum of the large crowd, around and above her, the pulse of a thousand and more hearts. Whatever was going to happen here, it was going to be big. Finally, they arrived at their destination, and a curiously familiar one it was too. There were stagehands busily milling about, there were magical lights carefully hoisted into the darkness above, and there, in front of her, was a deep red curtain. _A show. But what kind of a show?_

”Don’t worry, Veldrin,” Alythrae told her. ”You’re perfectly qualified for this, follow my lead and you’ll see how it works.”

_How what works?_ Zaerini thought, but before she had time to ask anything else there was a booming, amplified voice from the other side of the curtain. 

”And here, ladies and gentlemen, the moment for which we’ve all been waiting! The one, the allmighty, the allpowerful jury of the Chosen Tryouts, headed by the supreme singer, the primal primadonna, the most noble and highly regarded…Alythrae Despana!”

Zaerini’s head whipped around, and she stared in shock at her companion, who simply grinned in amusement at her. ”What can I say,” Alythrae chuckled. ”Family. We don’t get to choose it, we just get to cope with it, no?”

”Accompanied,” The announcer’s voice went on, ”By a Drow new to our fair city but already making a name for herself. We welcome Veldrin of Ched Nasad, and hope to see her live up to her growing reputation!”

_Oh shit. Oh shit. What am I doing here? What do they want me to do? What if…_

But the curtain was rising already, and there was no turning back. She blinked at the bright lights surrounding her, forcing an equally bright smile onto her face. She could do this. She was an artist after all, and the show must go on, that’s what one always said. She couldn’t break her cover. 

_Yes. The show must go on. No matter what._

Zaerini stepped out onto the stage, and the roar of the crowd scattered her concerns, making her heart soar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of Dark!Rini - hope it feels realistic that the combination of the loss of her soul and drow influence would affect her like this.


	167. Ust Natha’s Got Talent

**Cards Reshuffled 167 – Ust Natha’s Got Talent**

_Some say that for the aspiring artist, any kind of publicity is good publicity. I say the people who say that never performed in the Underdark._

_Excerpt from ’Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

There was something very, very wrong about the idea of a male Drow wearing a white bunnysuit, complete with fluffy tail and floppy ears. When he smiled nervously he revealed a pair of huge bunnyteeth, and that added to the general impression of complete and utter Terrible. 

”What,” Zaerini whispered to her companion, ”Is up with that?”

”Oh, he’s trying to be cute,” Alythrae Despana replied with a disgusted grimace. ”Some of them will do anything to get past the Chosen tryouts, you’ll see. Anything that they think will get them attention and skyrocket them to fame and fortune.” The Drow bard leaned forward across the table that she and Zaerini were sitting at, and smiled a predatory smile. ”Number one. And what do you intend to sing for us?”

”AsongI’vewrittenmyself,GreatMistressoftheAllPowerfulJury,it’scalledHophop.”

”Hop hop.” Alythrae pursed her lips. ”How interesting. Well, go on then.”

The male opened his mouth, took a very deep breath, and began to sing, all the while bouncing up and down in one place. ”Hophophopgoesthefluffysurfacecritter,hophophopthroughthestinkingsurfacefieldsthatnotrueDrowwouldwanttogoto,PRAISE LOLTH!”

”Enough!” Alythrae called. ”Ladies, your opinion?”

”An excellent display…” Smirked the elderly female sitting on Alythrae’s other side, her pile of white hair tilting dangerously as she leaned her head to one side. ”…of complete and utter garbage! I say we let this male hop, hop, hop his way straight to the Drider pits!”

”An interesting suggestion. And what of our guest of honor Juror for the evening? Veldrin?”

”Me?” Zaerini said, her head still reeling after the horribly false notes it had just been subjected to. ”Well, I think he’s got a promising career ahead of him, actually.”

”Indeed?”

”Yep. As a dung spreader. Just please don’t let him ever sing in public again, for the sake of public sanity.”

”That can be arranged,” Alythae said, smiling like a shark. ”Guards! Get him out of here!” A pair of burly females dressed in black and very spiky armor dragged the protesting would be singer off the stage, accompanied by the approving roar of the crowd. 

It went on in the same vein after that. Some of the participants were decent enough, a few were even good, and those were selected for participation in the next tier of the Chosen content. Whoever eventually won the final would be lucky enough to get called Chosen of Ust Natha, and would apparently be awarded a fine price. Most of the contestants were utterly abysmal however. After having been forced to listen to five of them, Rini felt ready to perforate her own eardrums. After ten, she was more than ready to do it to the contestants. 

”I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” She whispered to Alythrae. ”How many left?”

”Only two more. Here’s the second to last, it seems.”

A very skinny male stepped into the arena, nervously twitching. ”Honored females, if you would hear me out, my song will transform your lives, yes, for my spiritual spirit makes me unique and rare and…”

”Spiritual? Right. So what are you going to sing?”

”A song for all the darling little children out there,” The man twittered. ”Because I just love little children.” He cleared his throat, closed his eyes, and started wailing, his face instantly becoming wet with tears. ”Save the worrrrrld, with cuddles and hugs and sweetness, save the worrrrrld for you and meeeeeeee! Save the worrrrrld, with peace and love and goodness, save the worrrrld and set us freeeee!”

”Enough!” Alythrae barked, standing up. ”That was too horrible to even wait for the show to finish.” She smiled a wicked smile, one that was basically a showing of teeth. ”This calls for…the ANVIL!”

There was a rumbling far above, and a lot of ooohing and aaahing from the Drow crowd. The singer went on cooing and crying, oblivious to his surroundings right up until the point when a very large anvil plummeted down from the rafters above, instantly squashing his head like a melon. ”Well, I don’t know about him,” Alythrae said, chuckling, ”But I certainly feel as if the world just got saved from a fate worse than death. Don’t you agree, Veldrin?” The crowd roared its approval. 

”I…er…I’d have to say he looks a lot more peaceful now,” Zaerini replied, unable to take her eyes away from the rapidly spreading red pool under the anvil. _Gods what have I got myself into?_

Luckily, Alythrae seemed to approve of her comment, as did the audience, for they clapped and cheered her as much as her companion. She managed to keep a frozen smile on herself all the way through the final performance. That one, a frizzyhaired and rotund female was actually quite good, better than good even. 

”Marvellous!” Alythrae called out once the final notes have sounded. ”Ladies and gentlemen, we have our clear winner who’ll take part in next week’s performance along with the semicompetent bozos who’ve just managed to get by. Let’s give them all a big hand!” All the judges stood, as did the audience, clapping eagerly as the successful contestants bowed and smiled. ”As for the rest,” Alythrae continued, ”They won’t torment anybody’s eardrums again, but that’s not to say they don’t have their uses. FOR LOLTH!”

”FOR LOLTH!” All the Drow shouted in unison, even as a large cage was wheeled into the arena. All the losing contestants were inside, some crying, some screaming, but most of them still protesting that they were excellent singers, really they were, their very own mothers had always told them so. They went on doing this right up to the point when a hatch was opened on top of the cage and the dozen or so of very large spiders were dropped in. The following spectacle got even more of the audiences’ approval than even the winning contestant had. Rini tried to look away, and then tried even harder not to be obvious about looking away. 

”Enjoy yourself?” Alythrae asked as they were heading out. The other woman linked arms with her, and gave her a warm smile. ”I personally always feel exhilaration afterwards. That, and a craving for sausages that I hope to satisfy shortly.”

”Sausages?” Rini said, still feeling incapable of complicated sentences. Those spiders had been quite hungry too, and not too picky about killing their victims off before they started feeding. ”Oh. Oh yeah, it was great, never would have imagined anything like it.”

”Every time a truly bad singer dies, I feel this warm glow of satisfaction,” Alythrae went on. ”This project really has been a great success, Drow bardic skills have reached a higher average than ever before. I’m thinking of expanding it to poetry eventually, but perhaps that’s not quite flashy enough for an audience, what do you say?” She snapped her fingers at a passing streetvendor, ordered two sausages covered in spicy sauces, and started munching happily on one even as she handed the other to Zaerini. 

”Poetry?” Rini echoed, taking a careful bite of her sausage. It was quite tasty, and she tried not to think of what it might contain. ”No, you’re probably right. Maybe dancing instead.”

”Excellent idea!” Alythrae exlaimed, beaming approval to her. ” Yes, dancing will have an enormous audience appeal, and perhaps they clumsy fools might be paired off with some professionals to make the contrast even greater. I’m very very glad you came along Veldrin, you complement me so nicely. Now don’t you worry about a thing, I’ll make certain to put in more than one good word with Mother for you, and you’ll soon be rising in rank, enabling you to join in partnership with me more easily.”

”About that ’Mother’ thing, I…”

”Oh I know, I should have told, but I’m so tired of people just wanting my company due to the prestige they think it might grant them.” Alythrae took her hand, squeezing it gently. ”It’s so refreshing with somebody who appreciates my company for my own sake, not for hers.” She looked momentarily saddened. ”That’s a far more rare thing than you might think.” Then the bright smile returned. ”Now I’ll let you rest, you look tired. I hope to see you again soon, Veldrin. You’re so much like me, I can tell we’ll have a grand time together.”

”Yes…” Zaerini said, as she mechanically waved goodbye. ”I bet we will.” She turned and walked inside her inn, trying very hard not to think of anything, but not succeeding. Up the stairs, into her room, and there was Edwin, sitting on the bed, glaring at her. He opened his mouth, clearly intending to say something, but then he must have seen the look on her face, for his expression changed. Unable to speak at all for several minutes she simply clung to him, her face buried in his shoulder. She wasn’t crying, but her body seemed to be unable to stop shaking. 

”Where were you?” He eventually asked, sounding more calm than she’d expected.

She told him, not leaving anything out, though the tale got a bit jumbled at times. ”I’ve killed people before, you know that,” She eventually said. ”So have you, so have we all. But not like this. For giggles, for pleasing a crowd. And do you know what else?”

”What else?”

”I liked it. Part of me, at least. Really, really liked it, and wanted more of it. I want to think that’s just the Bhaal part, but I don’t know for sure.” She raised her head, looking her lover straight in the eyes, and now she felt her own eyes going hot and wet. ”I don’t know who I am anymore, Eddie.”

”Then it is a good thing I do, wouldn’t you say?” He held her face between his hands, looking straight at her. ”Shall I tell you?”

She nodded mutely, prepared for the worst.

”You are an infuriating woman who sometimes contradicts her brilliance with all the common sense of a lemming. You’re stubborn, impulsive and seemingly hellbent on getting yourself killed in some agonizing manner, egotistically ignoring the fact that some of us would prefer you didn’t. (Then again, not everybody can be expected to have my own superior sense of judgment, I suppose.) You’re clever, beautiful, frequently amusing and completely oblivious to what it would do to me if I lost you. You’re also currently not entirely yourself, and though I personally won’t lament the deaths of a few bad musicians, I still say it’s high time we got you out of here before things get even worse than they are. Then we can get on with Irenicus, hopefully by pulling his spine out through his nose, and then…”

He fell silent, looking at her thoughtfully, a small smile on his face.

”Then?” Rini asked, holding her breath.

”That we will discuss once you have your soul back in its proper place. I want you to feel better first.”

”You know…” Rini said, reaching up a hand to gently stroke his cheek, fingers trailing along the line of his jaw. ”I’m feeling a little better already. And you’re right too.” She grinned, blinking to clear her vision. ”Soon as we can get our hands on those eggs, we’ll blow this joint. And Eddie?”

”Yes?”

”I don’t know what I’d do without you either. Don’t ever let me find out, please?”

He smiled at her then, that slightly smug but also tender smile that she loved so well, and for the rest of the night, they didn’t speak much of anything.

-*-

_Elsewhere…_

Sunlight. That was the first impression, warm sunlight against closed eyelids. Then sound, birds chirping in the far distance. Sensation, something warm and solid on top, and softness tickling his nose. Pleasant, yes, but also a little worrying. Vadrak Dekaras carefully opened his eyes, trying to make sense of his surroundings. He was on his back on the ground, not on fire, apparently not dead, and with nobody presently trying to kill him. So far so good. No pain, so no lifethreatening or incapacitating injuries, which was also good. Unable to move his arms or legs, due to the pinkhaired girl lodged on top of his chest and clinging tightly to him. She was snoring gently in his ear, and it was definitely her hair that he’d felt earlier. Which was also…no, no. Not very good at all, was it?

_But yes, it is. We’re alive. I hadn’t expected that._

”Imoen?” The assassin said, trying to gently dislodge the girl. It was harder than he might have guessed, she seemed to have as many arms as an octopus. ”Imoen, wake up.”

”Aw, come on Gorion,” She muttered, not opening her eyes. ”I’m having the best dream here, I can do my chores later…”

”Imoen, it’s not Gorion.”

”Huh? What d’you mean you’re not…Gorion…” The young rogue’s bright blue eyes flickered open, not two inches away from his own. She gave a small squeak, leapt to her feet and promptly fell over again. ”Ow…” She said, and winced as she rubbed her posterior. ”Um, sorry about that, really. I didn’t know.” Her cheeks had gone a faint pink. 

”There is no need for apologies, I assure you,” Dekaras said, trying his best to ignore the fact that his own face felt somewhat hot as well. _The sunlight. That’s what it is, very hot for this time of year._ ”Let’s speak no more of it.”

”Right,” Imoen said, nodding gratefully. ”So, we’re alive then? That’s great and all, but how did it happen? And where are we?”

”I’m not entirely certain of that myself,” Dekaras said, frowning in thought. ”The last thing I remember is leaping off a burning tree in Suldanesselar. We’re still in a forest, and it could even be the same one, but there’s certainly no city here. At least we no longer seem to be disguised as elves.”

”Hm…think we’re still in Once Upon A Time?” Imoen replied, running quick fingers through her tangled hair. ”Because if we are, we could make a fortune placing bets on famous battles and things! By the time we get back to our friends we’ll be rolling in gold!”

She grinned with delight at that prospect, and the assassin couldn’t help smiling in return. It seemed no matter what the world threw at Imoen, she’d never stay down for long. _An enviable talent._   
”Forests look much the same no matter what year it is,” He said. ”I suggest we try to reach the nearest settlement, then we should be able to learn more.” One more thing occurred to him. ”I wish I knew how exactly we were brought to that particular place, and then back. Much as I’m relieved to look like myself again, I really would prefer to know how it happened.”

”Yeah me too…it’s all just a little bit too tidy isn’t it? Us ending up in that spot, right where he was, just happening to see what happened there? And then just happening to survive like we did, when really we shouldn’t have. Not that I’m complaining or anything, but it’s fishy isn’t it?”

”It amounts to an entire cartload of fish, I would say. Predominantly decomposing ones.”

”Mmm, it does stink.” Imoen shrugged briefly. ”But nothing we can do about it right now I guess, so we might as well move on.” They walked in silence for a short while. ”Vadrak? Do you think the others are all right?”

”I’m sure they are,” Dekaras said, trying to ignore the tiny, gnawing sensation in his stomach. _After all these years I ought to be used to it._ ”The last we saw of them they were on a sturdy boat, safely on their way from Brynnlaw after all.”

”I know but…this is Rini we’re talking about. She always gets herself into trouble. So does Edwin, doesn’t he?”

”Regrettably I must agree with that assessment.”

”Nothing like us, huh?”

”Not in the slightest.”

”Well then…?”

”Yes.”

A long look of mutual understanding passed between them, and the two rogues picked up their pace to a near run. 

-*-

Two shapes shimmered into being in the glade which Imoen and Dekaras had just left. While they had absolutely no need to assume a physical form, it was helpful for observing the finer details of the world. Also, there was something to be said for the pleasure of warm sunlight felt from this particular angle, rather than seen from outside. 

The first of the two people in all ways resembled a human male. He was wearing full plate armor, polished until it shone like a star, and he looked both tall and strong. A solemn face was dominated by penetrating eyes, eyes that seemed able to look directly through a soul as through a sheet of clear glass. Right now, he was observing his companion, frowning slightly. 

The other person seemed to be an elf. Fair of form as they usually were, with wispy red hair, and green eyes sparkling with mischief. He was wearing green as well, and he was sitting on top of a wild flower, dangling his legs. This was made easier by the fact that he was only the size of a bumblebee. 

”Attempting to pollinate, are we?” The first person said, in a deceptively mild voice. ”I’d be careful if I were you, you might end up spawning a race of elves with flower-shaped privates.”

”I just enjoy seeing things close up and personal,” The other person grinned. ”But if it bothers you so much…” He was standing on the ground now, quite as tall as the armored man. ”Better?”

”Much better. But I didn’t really come here to discuss your odd fondness for micromanagement.”

”Oh?” The elf yawned briefly. ”Sorry, was up for a century or so with this charming soul I know. Fair warning, never drink Beshaba’s Old Peculiar Nectar, not unless you like waking up in the shape of a cockroach.”

”Erevan…”

”Right. So what can this humble member of the Seldarine do for the Great Watcher?” He grinned again. ”If you _were_ watching, I hope it was as good for you as it was for me.”

”Erevan!”

”Guess not then. What a shame.”

”You know perfectly well why I’m here, Erevan,” The armored man said in a level voice. ”You interfered with one of mine. A rather large interference, at that.” He suddenly seemed to loom a few feet taller than before, and though his voice didn’t change in the least, the elf’s smile cracked a little at the edges. ”I am not amused.”

”Right…” The elf said, and now he looked quite serious. ”I know that was a breach of protocol.”

”Yes, it certainly was.”

”May I just ask why in the world _that_ mortal is one of yours?”

”No Erevan, you may not. And consider yourself lucky that I’m the only one here. At least I’m giving you the opportunity to explain yourself. Tymora wanted to give you donkeyears and make everything you touch turn into slugs. If I hadn’t talked her into letting me represent us both…” He left the last word hanging in the air, and the elf swallowed quickly. 

”You know what’s at stake,” He said, and there was no hint of mockery in his voice now. 

”I do. And we aren’t supposed to interfere.”

”I didn’t! Not much. Not directly.”

”Not directly? Transportation through space and time? Shapechanging? What would you call ’directly’? Giving them both the power to read minds? And don’t even think about doing that to mine for a lark, or he’s bound to wreak utter havoc.”

”They have places they’ll need to be in not too long,” Erevan said defensively. ”You know that as well as I do. I just made sure they’ll get to where they need to be. Also, I needed to pass important information along to my charge.”

The armored man briefly touched the palm of his hand to his face. ”Did you ever hear of ’letters’, Erevan? A very convenient invention that mortals came up with some time ago.”

”Ha ha. This was far more impressive, as well as more amusing, and you know it. Plus the information is coming directly from two of the people she trusts the most.” He crossed his arms defiantly across his chest. ”I’m only doing her a favour, Helm. I have that right, you know that.”

”An interesting choice of favours, given the trouble she’s currently in.”

”You know I only help those who help themselves. She is, so I am. But I have my ways, just like you have yours.” The elf smiled again, slightly maliciously. ”I wouldn’t want to be in _your_ mortal’s clothes if you ever get around to passing along some help of your own. One of your little…character improvement schemes. Those are bound to either kill him or make him wish he was dead.”

”Favour always comes with a price,” The armored man replied in a calm voice. ”He wouldn’t be one of mine in the first place if I didn’t have faith in his capacity to pay the price necessary. But that has nothing to do with this discussion. No more interference of this sort, Erevan. I want your word on that. Not without asking permission.”

”Oh, very well,” The elf sighed. ”I won’t, I promise. But I will keep watching.”

”So will I.” A grim smile. ”So will we all, I should say.”

”Yessss…” Erevan made a grimace. ”And some of the others won’t play as nice as I do. You do know what Loviatar is up to, I suppose?” He gave the other man a sly look. ”Or shall I tell you, Oh Great Watcher?”

”Perhaps. Yes, perhaps that would be wise.”

”Not here, then. One of the others may be poking around. I’ll see you at my place, and I’ll share all the juicy gossip I can as payment for messing with your mortal.” He grinned again, his eyes sparkling with green fire. ”If you stop scowling at me, I’ll let you know what Beshaba looks like in primordeal form. Ooooh mama!”

The air shimmered again, and the clearing was empty and silent once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's just something about the duo of Erevan and Helm that I really, really enjoy writing. Probably it's the inherent Lawful vs Chaotic that always makes me enjoy bouncing them off each other.


	168. Despana Dynasty

**Cards Reshuffled 168 – Despana Dynasty**

_I think it’s fair to say that I have about as twisted a family as it’s possible for anybody to have. Even so, in my travels I’ve come across people who manage to come very close. And that’s not even including the Jansen family._

_Excerpt from ’Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

”So, this is Veldrin. The newcomer who has managed to impress not one, but two of the mewling worms I have for daughters.” Matron Mother Ardulace spoke these words in a calm, even pleasant voice, but her eyes were as flat as red stones. She seemed old for a Drow, white hair turned a pale yellow, and she was wearing austere yet elegant robes of silver and white. Her black skin was smooth apart from a rare few wrinkles – and the scar. It was a long, slanting scar that twisted the corner of her mouth into a sardonic grin, and crept up towards her left ear, a twisted mass of pink tissue. 

”Yes, Matron Mother,” Zaerini said in as neutral a voice as she could manage. _Don’t stare. Don’t stare. She’ll have us all killed if I stare. Don’t even glance at it!_

”She has performed well – so far,” Phaere said. The priestess aimed a sour look at her sister. ”I, of course, spotted her capacity at once, and put it to test. Unlike some people, who waste their time on frivolous games.”

”Ah, but games can be enlightening too,” Alythrae said, winking at Rini. ”I learnt a lot in the time I spent with Veldrin here. Why, I feel closer to her than to my own kin, sometimes.”

”Silence, whelps,” Ardulace cut in, still in that low, pleasant voice. ”I have not given you leave to speak, so hold your flapping tongues unless you wish me to remove them. Now, Veldrin. You are but newly arrived in Ust Natha, but already you have shown yourself to be capable. I believe you may deserve the favour of House Despana, a chance for you to rise above the common rabble.”

Rini chose not to reply, but simply bowed before the Matron. This was what she had been aiming for, but now the moment had come she felt as if her stomach had twisted itself into knots. She deliberately didn’t look at her friends, standing in a small semi-circle a little behind her, an attentive entourage. _Please all gods, let Minsc remember to keep his mouth shut._

”I am in the final stages of a highly important and delicate project,” Ardulace went on. ”For your final test, I wish you to acquire the blood of one of the elder races. Not from any specimen, mind you, it must be from one of their most powerful princes. A small sample will do. If you are as you seem, you will manage this.” She made no move to explain herself further, and the half-elf’s mind spun wildly as she tried to remember. _Elder races…elder races…_

”Forgive my intrusion, Holy One,” Edwin smoothly intervened. ”But we already have that which you desire.” He reached into one of the pouches dangling from his belt, and pulled out a small glass tube. ”The blood of an Elder Brain we chanced across during our journeys. I trust it will suffice?”

The Matron Mother’s eyes widened but a fraction, but her fingers trembled slightly as she took the tube. ”Yes. This will do. This will do very well. Well then. If there is nothing else, I will see you at the Temple of Lolth tomorrow at the tenth hour. You will be on time.” She made as if to turn around, but then smiled slowly. ”You. The tall one in the back. I see you watching my scar. Are you curious about it?”

_Crap. Crap, crap, crap._

”Aye, very curious!” Minsc piped up, nodding vigorously. ”For I’ve many scars myself, scars of glorious battles that gave me great honour. You must be a great lady to have such a magnificently huge scar.”

The world hung in balance, the silence of the room pressing in from all sides. Ardulace looked at the ranger, her face completely expressionless.

_Ok, we’re all dead then. Good bye world, we had some good times. I wonder how much this is going to hurt?_

”You are an amusing male,” The Matron finally said. ”I shall tell you. This scar was given to me when I was a mere stripling. One of my sisters, eager for advancement, crept into the nursery and attempted to slit my throat.” She smiled a small smile. ”She did not know how highly I stood in Lolth’s favour, but she learnt all about that as I stripped the skin off her still quivering flesh using but a single spell. It made for an interesting if somewhat tacky cloak. As for the scar, I could have had it healed of course, but I chose to keep it.” She turned to Zaerini again, looking her straight in the eyes. ”Why do you think that is, Veldrin?”

”Because…” Rini said, her mouth feeling very dry. ”Because you wanted for people to see it, perhaps even ask about it. You wanted to make certain they remembered the story.”

”Very good. Yes, very, very good. I think you will do well. Until tomorrow, then. Dismissed.”

The party left in silence, nobody speaking until they were well away and certain they wouldn’t be overheard. ”That is one very dangerous woman,” Jaheira said. She sounded thoughtful. ”We were lucky she took no offence.”

”I’m not sure how much longer I can go on with this,” Rini admitted as she wiped sweaty hair away from her forehead. 

”You are doing well,” Edwin reassured her, and his fingers sought hers out, discreetly squeezing. ”Dealing with powerful political figures inclined towards instant elimination of opposition is no easy task, and not everybody is possessed of my own finely tuned sense of diplomacy of course.”

”Of course,” The bard gave her lover a fond smile. ”You did well too, I was impressed. You didn’t sound the least nervous.”

”Of course not. Fearsome as she might be, the Matron would still come out second best in a staring contest against Mother.”

”You know, I’m starting to think that maybe I’ll want to wait a while before I meet your Mother. A few centuries or so should do it.”

”Nonsense, she’ll adore you immensely,” Edwin said. ”How could she possibly not?” He nodded to himself. ”Besides, Teacher Dekaras likes you, and she usually listens to his opinions. You have nothing to worry about.”

”I hope so.” Zaerini looked up at the tall black spires far above, and the milling crowds of Drow. ”Well. Apart from all this. One thing at a time, I guess. Yep. One thing at a time…”

They had just reached the inn when a thin and nervous-looking male Drow came running up to them. He bowed deeply to Zaerini, his hair nearly scraping the floor. ”Forgive me, Mistress,” He said in a low voice. ”I have an important message for you. I was told to wait for your reply.”

The bard simply nodded, carefully unfolding the letter to study its contents. 

_Veldrin_

_I have a matter of some importance to discuss with you. I expect you at my quarters within an hour. The messenger will direct you there. You will come alone._

_Phaere_

”I’ll be there,” Zaerini told the messenger, and she handed the letter over to Jaheira, motioning for the druid to pass it around. ”I will accompany my companions to the inn, and then you may take me to Phaere.”

”Are you certain this is a wise decision?” Anomen whispered. He sounded concerned. ”I dislike the thought of you going there alone.”

”As do I,” Edwin said, scowling darkly. 

”Whatever Phaere may want, it would be a bad idea to antagonize her at this point,” Jaheira said. ”I agree that you should go, but be very careful.”

”As careful as I can,” Rini said. Which may not be very. ”Try to get some rest and relax while I’m gone, would you?”

”I find that extremely unlikely,” The druid said in a dry voice. ”But I will see what can be done.”

-*-

Phaere turned to have a large and luxurious apartment close to the Temple of Lolth. She impatiently beckoned Zaerini inside, and then motioned for her to sit on a vast and very soft couch made of some kind of leather the bard hadn’t encountered before. She did so, observing her hostess warily. Phaere was wearing a white robe, very similar to the one her mother had worn earlier, but with fewer decorations. It had a high neck, and it showed only the barest hint of ankle, but it clung to the contours of her body in a way that was anything but modest. Phaere busied herself with glasses and bottles at one end of the room, and then handed Zaerini a tall glass filled with a clear green fluid that was fizzing gently. It tasted a little like pears, but was more sour than that, and it was quite delicious. 

”So, you have met with my sister,” She abruptly said. 

”I have,” Rini said, trying to sound less nervous than she felt. ”I didn’t know who she was at the time, though.”

Phaere smiled a smile that made the green drink seem positively sugary. ”Yes, that is like her. She enjoys her little games. She also enjoys getting in my way, preferably taking what belongs to me.” She sat on a chair opposite the bard, red eyes fixed in a cool stare. ”I found you, Veldrin. I have raised you up, and I can let you fall again. Is that clear?”

”Perfectly.” Rini shrugged briefly, as nonchalantly as she could. ”Of course, I’d probably say that even if I were Alythrae’s loyal retainer. Perhaps even more so in that case.”

”True,” Phaere said. She took a slow sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving Zaerini’s face. ”I do not believe you are, however. She has undoubtedly tried to charm you, but it would do you well to remember that her only interest in you lies in taking away a toy that belongs to me.”

”That may be so,” Rini said, and now she couldn’t keep anger from colouring her voice. ”But if it’s true, then she’s badly mistaken. I am nobody’s toy.” She met Phaere’s eyes with a challenging stare of her own. ”Nobody’s.”

Phaere was silent for a moment, and then nodded in seeming satisfaction. ”Good,” She said. ”I have no need for whimpering slaves, but I do have need of an agent with a spine.” She smiled pleasantly. ”Of course, if you cross me I will still have you killed.”

”Of course.”

”That’s settled then. Now, as to my sister. What did she speak to you about?” Phaere tapped her fingers against her glass. ”What did she have to say about me?”

”Not much,” Zaerini said. This was dangerous ground she was tiptoeing across. 

”But there was something, was there not?” Phaere leaned closer. ”Something about…Solaufein, perhaps?” She straightened up again. ”Yes, I see the answer on your face. She does so love to tell that story.” A sudden flash of cold anger twisted her mouth. ”And so does he. Gloating over my past weakness, trying to diminish me in the eyes of others! Well, no more. Veldrin, I have come to a decision. Solaufein has long outlived his usefulness, and now he is nothing more than an embarrassment to me. You will rid me of that embarrassment, with no delay.”

”Rid…”

Phaere nodded, and then she smiled brightly. ”Oh, and once you’re done, make certain you bring me his cloak. I know it well, and I want it for a memento.”

”But…”

”You will do this for me Veldrin, won’t you?” Phaere’s smile had left her face, and once again her voice was cold as ice. ”Or am I to believe you are an agent of my sister after all?”

”No, of course not,” Rini heard herself say. Her tongue felt thick and hot in her mouth. ”Solaufein will die, as you say.”

”Excellent,” Phaere said, beaming. ”I think that you and I will get along very well after all, Veldrin. You may leave now, and when you return with the cloak I will have an important proposal for you…”

_I wish those words didn’t make me feel like I’m about to throw up_ , Rini thought as she left the apartment on shaking legs. _Gods. What am I supposed to do now?_ She surreptiously wiped a tear out of the corner of her eye, taking care not to let any Drow see her. Drow weren’t supposed to cry in public, she was sure of that much. Drow weren’t supposed to feel desperate. Drow weren’t supposed to feel. _And I’m not sure how much longer I can manage to be a Drow._

-*- 

”I cannot believe you are even contemplating this, my lady!” Anomen sounded angry, angrier than Zaerini had seen him in quite some time. He was actually scowling at her in a way that almost made her regret having decided to discuss the situation privately with all her friends. 

”Of course she is, she is not a blundering would-be paladin with a virtue obsession,” Edwin snapped at the cleric. ”It is the logical, sensible thing to do, not that I expect your miniscule mind to grasp the fine subleties of realpolitik. Our position is a delicate one, and it demands we carry out Phaere’s orders. If it makes you that queasy, perhaps you should have stayed at home to dispense bread to the poor and find homes for orphaned puppies. (He would probably insist on stale bread too.)”

”I do understand the situation,” Anomen retorted. He was speaking in a low voice, but that didn’t make him sound less furious. He turned to Zaerini, distress evident on his face. ”I do understand. It is so easy to do what is expected of you, but that doesn’t make it right.”

”Right?” The bard said. She laughed, a hollow little laughter. ”I don’t know what’s right. I wish I did.”

Edwin gave her a worried look, and she could feel his hand lightly touching her, comforting. She managed a weak smile in return. 

”I wish that Teacher Dekaras was here,” Her wizard said, sounding almost as distressed as she felt. ”He would be able to easily sort the situation out.”

”I’m sure he would,” Rini absently said. ”But as he isn’t, we’ll have to manage anyway.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. ”It’s not as if we owe Solaufein anything. Killing him would be the safe thing to do.” She sighed again. ”It’s just…the other day, I saw what I could become if I stay here for much longer.” She looked her lover straight in the eyes. ”I don’t want to be a Drow on the inside as well as on the outside, and the more I act like one, the more I feel what’s me slipping away. But I don’t want to risk all of our lives either. I just don’t know what to do. Jaheira, what do you think?”

”I think it is good that you’re considering the options carefully,” The druid replied. She leaned her head in one hand, level eyes studying the other woman. ”It is…an improvement. The way I see it there are only two possible paths, kill Solaufein or don’t.”

”Well sure, but…”

”Don’t interrupt,” Jaheira cut her off, raising a hand. ”If you do, it is the simple path. Phaere will be pleased. If you don’t, then we cannot risk her ever laying eyes on him again, or at least not until we are safely out of this place.”

”True.”

”That would require his cooperation. So what it comes down to is this – can he be trusted, or not?”

”I don’t know,” Zaerini slowly said. She straightened her shoulders, and took a deep breath. ”But I think it’s time to find out.”

”Don’t worry, Little Rini,” Minsc said, patting her hand. ”Minsc knows he couldn’t ask for a better Witch, and Boo says he knows you’ll come up with something clever enough to make my head hurt and make Evil run screaming for its mommy to wipe its runny nose clear of the nosebleed of Justice.”

”Um, thanks,” Rini said, managing to smile back at the berserker. ”Tell Boo I’ll do my best.” 

Finding Solaufein proved less difficult than Zaerini had thought. Apparently whatever time he had for himself between his various missions he spent at the Male Fighter’s Society, either practising his sword or simply lounging about. This day, it was lounging about. The adventurers were directed to Solaufein’s apartment, a small and rather dreary place near the top of the Male Fighter’s Society. There was a stuffy smell inside, dirty dishes piled high on a counter along with several empty bottles, and several heaps of laundry on the floor. ”Hello?” She called out. ”Solaufein? It’s Veldrin.”

There was a subdued groan coming from further inside the apartment, devoid of articulation or indeed of words. 

”It would be typical if somebody else got here first,” Edwin said with a disgusted curl of his lip. ”I told you all, you can’t be this tardy with assassinations.”

”You could avoid talking out loud about it in the would-be victim’s presence as well,” Jaheira said, smirking slightly. ”Also, nothing of the sort has been decided as yet, remember?”

”Regrettably so. (One fireball. That’s all it would take. Just one. Maybe two.)”

”Shush,” Rini admonished, and she cautiously approached the doorway in front of her. It was standing partly open, and there was a faint light inside, such as might come from a single candle. ”Solaufein? Is that you?”

”Go away,” Solaufein’s voice groaned from inside the room. ”All of you. Or kill me quickly, I don’t care.”

”Well, there you are then,” Edwin said in a bright voice, rubbing his hands. ”The pathetic elf is asking for it, and who are we to deny him? One toasty fire coming right up…”

”Wait!” Rini called out, grasping her lover’s hand, then grinned at his sour look. ”Give us a second, ok?” She stepped inside the room, Minsc and Anomen flanking her in case Solaufein was merely feigning and preparing attack. However, it soon became quite apparent that he wasn’t. The room was a small bedroom, with a single bed that was covered with a hive of bedlinen. There was a vaguely humanoid shape underneath it all, and a tuft of white hair sticking out from under the blanket. Even more bottles were lying on the floor, and there was a thick smell in the air, part sweet and part sour, cheap wine mingled with sweat. The blankets quivered, and Solaufein’s face emerged, looking more grey than black and sweating heavily. ”Must you all breathe so loudly?” He complained. ”I know why you’re here, Veldrin. Phaere sent you, didn’t she?”

”Well, yes.”

”As I thought. I knew this day would eventually come. Did she order you to make it lingering?”

”Um, no. Not really.”

”Good. I’d like to think that means there’s at least a smidgeon left of the fondness she used to have for me, but that would be foolishness. Even so, make it quick please. As you can see I’m in no state to defend myself, and don’t really care to.”

”You’re screaming drunk, man,” Anomen said, wrinkling his nose in disgust. ”Have you no shame, ruining yourself like this? Have you no pride?”

”Not really, no,” The Drow responded. ”For Phaere it was love that died. For me, it was pride. I think she was the lucky one, really.”

”You’re saying you still love her?” Rini asked, not caring to mask her incredulity. 

”Very unsuitable for a Drow, I know. But since you’re going to kill me anyway, it doesn’t really matter, does it?” Solaufein gave a short, bitter giggle. ”I wrote a poem about it, but it’s not very good. Want to hear?”

”No,” Jaheira said in her firmest voice. ”Absolutely not.”

”Didn’t think you would. You don’t understand. Nobody does. Go on, kill me then, see if I care.”

_And boy am I ever tempted to_ , the half-elf thought. _Maybe I should. It’s not as if he’s very likable. Then again, it’s my soul on the line here. Or my sort-of soul. Whatever. And even if he’s a miserable sort, he was able to love._

”You’re right,” She said, nodding. ”Phaere sent us to kill you. But we’re not going to, if you cooperate.”

Solaufein gave her a doubting look with halflidded eyes, and then yawned. ”Is that so.”

”Yep. Though if you don’t start acting a little more enthusiastic about it, I might just change my mind.”

”Why?” The Drow asked in a flat voice. ”There is no benefit to you in leaving me alive that I can see.”

”It’s none of your business why, you winesoaked whinepigeon,” Edwin sneered. ”One as high above you as the eagle soars above the lowly earthworm has seen fit to spare your miserable life. Question her not, unless you desire for your gullet to overflow with magma. (Fingers itching. Go on, make them twitch.)”

Solaufein blinked and sat up in bed, looking very puzzled. ”What’s an eagle?” He asked.

”Never mind that,” Rini hurried to add. ”Now, first of all, I need your cloak. Phaere wants me to bring it to her.” Solaufein mutely pointed at a chair covered with dirty linen, and she gingerly toppled the pile until she found the cloak in question. A fine garment, shimmering black, but it had a smell about it that made her swallow heavily and clutch her mouth.

”Sorry,” Solaufein said, not sounding as if he meant it. ”It made for a convenient towel.”

”Oh, lovely.” The bard rolled the cloak up in to as small a bundle as she could, and tucked it away in her pack. ”Right, next step. We need for you to disappear, permanently. Once you do, you can’t ever be seen in Ust Natha again, got it?” She waited only long enough to see the Drow nod before she went on, an sharp grin on her face. ”Now, I may not be an assassin, but one thing I do know about is putting on a show…so this is what we’ll do…”

The Male Fighter’s Society had a convenient balcony on one of its top floors, jutting out over a deep chasm between two walkways. The muted roar of the city pulsed in Zaerini’s ears as she pushed Solaufein in front of her and out onto the balcony, making her heart beat faster. Better yet, a few of the warriors of the Society were watching cautiously from the windows. They wouldn’t interfere, not with a powerful female backed by House Ardulace and her armed followers. ”Move, slug!” She shouted, and the amplification spell she had cast made her voice ring out loud enough to be heard by anybody in the building. ”Show some pride in death, if you have none in life!”

Solaufein didn’t answer, but he turned his head to give her a weary look. ”This is the end, Solaufein!” Zaerini called out again, wincing inwardly at the dramatic ring to her voice. _Am I overdoing it? No, have to make sure I get their attention. The show must go on._ ”No more will your insolence be suffered. By the glory of Lolth, DIE!” And she rammed her sword straight through the warrior’s unarmed back, following up with a mighty kick that sent his limp form tumbling helplessly over the balcony’s railing and into the abyss below. _There, that should do it._ The half-elf hurriedly resheathed her sword, before any of the spectators could notice that there was in fact no blood on the blade, and she turned around to glare at them with bared teeth. The men who had been watching all retreated back inside the building, carefully pretending that they had in fact seen nothing at all, and certainly nothing for which they might be held accountable. Satisfied that they were all gone, Zaerini stepped back inside Solaufein’s apartment. 

”Silent Image is a very underrated spell, I always thought,” She said with a small and smug smile on her face. The smile widened, taking on an air of sadistic mirth. ”And I see you’ve been busy as well, my dearest.”

”A ludicrously simple feat for a mage of my prowess, of course,” Edwin replied, contentedly folding his hands inside the sleeves of his robe. ”Still, I found it a mildly enjoyable task. This illusion has been warded against spells of divination, and it will last for an hour or more, enough time to remove this pathetic slave from the glorious city of Ust Natha. (Preferably by a boot to his backside.)”

”Works for me. Solaufein, ready to go?” Zaerini looked down at the disguised Drow. The illusion was very good, she had to admit that. The warrior had taken on the perfect resemblance of a tiny goblin, bright green like a pea and with big floppy ears. A female goblin at that, with bushy brown pigtails, and a wide mouth. A wide and very pink mouth. 

”Was the lipstick really necessary?” Solaufein complained. 

”Nope,” Zaerini said, still grinning. ”But hey, you won’t deny a girl her bit of fun, will you?” She snapped her fingers imperiously. ”Now, move it. You’ve got an escape to make, and I’ve got an appointment with your old girlfriend…”


	169. Ritual

**Cards Reshuffled 169 – Ritual**

_Demon summoning is a risky business in general. If you absolutely insist on summoning one, try to remember the Protection from Stupidity spell. It’s amazing how many experienced people concoct convoluted plans for their Rule of Tyranny yet neglect this simple little precaution which would keep them from getting into trouble in the first place._

_Excerpt from ’Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

”So, Solaufein is dead then,” Phaere said. ”The news are all over the city, they reached me even before you did.” Her face was very still, and Zaerini couldn’t imagine what she was thinking. 

_She has to be thinking something. She did care for him once, and she felt…something for him now, whether it was hatred or something else._

”Yes, Holy One,” She said, bowing respectfully. ”As you commanded.”

”Yes,” Phaere said, nodding. She blinked, just once, and straightened her shoulders a little. ”It is done. Now, Veldrin, we must look towards the future.” She leaned forward, and a keen look came into her eyes. ”You have gained the favour of the Matron Mother, and she will want you to be present during the Ritual of Summoning.”

”The Ritual of Summoning?” Rini asked cautiously. Not for the first time, she wished at least some of her friends had been with her, but once again Phaere had requested to see her alone. 

”The summoning of a powerful demon,” Phaere said, a content little smile playing along her lips. ”We…that is, the Matron has acquired a powerful boon to tempt him. The eggs of a silver dragon, the very one who lurks outside the city. To a demon, it will be a priceless gift, and he’ll grant almost anything to the one who presents them to him.” She stared directly into the half-elf’s eyes, a look both challenging and nervous. 

_Ah. So that’s it._   
”The Matron Mother,” Rini said, keeping her voice carefully neutral. ”Or somebody else?”

”Indeed. Or somebody else.” Phaere’s smile grew a little warmer, and she placed her slim hand on Zaerini’s arm, squeezing just a little bit. ”It so happens that I’ve had a few copies of the eggs made – a precaution, you understand, in order to fool possible thieves. There was no reason to bother the Matron with this. She has so many important affairs with which to occupy herself.” She stepped over to the wall and unlocked a small chest, made from carved stone. Inside, four silver eggs rested, shimmering dully in the faint light of the room. ”The demon would not be content with these of course,” Phaere said, still smiling. ”No, not content at all. I’ve made a small mark on the top of each one, right here. We wouldn’t want for there to be any accidental mixups.”

”Oh, of course not,” Zaerini said, her heart beating faster. ”That could get very messy.”

”Yes, very.” Phaere picked one of the false eggs up, tenderly stroking its smooth shell, and then handed it over to the bard. ”Of course, in the event of such an accident, the new Matron Mother would need to step in and complete the ritual. She would not forget who helped her rise, Veldrin, and would reward her accordingly. And in the event that you repeat any of this to those who should not know, she would have you flayed slowly alive.”

Zaerini slowly tossed the false egg from one hand to the other, smiling her best cocky smile. ”Sounds fun,” She said, looking Phaere straight in the eyes. ”When do we start – partner?”

The drow smirked back at her. ”Right now. Let me tell you some more about the real dragon eggs…all in the interest of properly guarding them from wicked thieves of course…”

-*-

”So,” Rini explained to her friends. ”The real eggs are kept in the Temple of Lolth, under heavy guard. There are fanatically loyal guards, guardian golems, deadly traps, not to mention that the eggs are kept inside a special vault.”

”And all we need to do is go and fetch them,” Jaheira commented in a very dry voice. 

”Well, yeah…and we need to be subtle about it too. We can’t just charge in there, or we’ll get creamed by a city full of Drow. This calls for a more stealthy approach.”

”True,” Jaheira said. She sighed, leaning her head in her hands. ”And here we are, with both our rogues stranded Silvanus knows where.”

”I know, but we can’t do anything about that.” Rini thought for a moment. ”Maybe we can figure out what they’d advice us. Let’s see. What Would Imoen Do?” She thought hard and then made a grimace. ”Meh. No good, Immy taught me a lot about pickpocketing, but I can’t make head or tails of the other stuff.” She turned to her lover. ”Eddie? How about you?”

The mage shrugged, arms spread wide. ”Needless to say, I would have made an excellent rogue, had I devoted myself to it. However, Teacher Dekaras always did discourage me from experiments along those lines, he said he didn’t want me losing focus on my studies.”

”Or possibly he didn’t want you getting your hands blown off,” Anomen said, eyes twinkling.

”At least I’m more capable of stealth than you are, you clank enough for a whole mine full of dwarves! (And I would not have blown myself up. Others possibly, but not myself.)”

”Right,” Rini said, hastily intervening before the conversation could deteriorate further. ”We’ll just have to work with what we have, namely a No Rogues group. Like I said, we’ll just have to try our best to be subtle and avoid being noticed.”

”Minsc and Boo can be subtle! Any evil elves who stand in our way will be pounded into eggnog, yes! Eggnog with crunchy elf bits and lots of nuts.”

_We’re all going to die, aren’t we? Gods, I wish Immy and Vadrak were both here._

_As do I, kitten, Softpaws replied. They’re both good at scritching behind my ears. Yes, there, that’s the spot. You need to practice more though._

_If we all live long enough to get out of this place, I will. Promise._

-*-

Having dithered a little about who should go along on the expedition, Zaerini eventually decided to take the whole group. At least that way, if something went wrong, they’d all be together. _Don’t want to have to leave anybody else behind, ever again._ They headed towards the Temple of Lolth, walking in silence. They’d made what preparations they could, but it hardly seemed enough. Then again, it probably wouldn’t have if she’d spent a month preparing. 

Deep in thought as she was, Zaerini was quite startled to suddenly feel a hand grasping her ankle. She reacted swiftly enough though, sword out and pointed at the attacker even before she came to see he wasn’t in fact attacking her. A hunched up shape, mostly covered by a thick cloak, sat on the ground next to her, its thin hand firmly attached to her ankle in a grip that seemed entirely too strong for its looks. A long rope of fat white onions hung around its neck, and two others crisscrossed its chest. She thought there was garlic in there as well, and the stench made her nostrils twitch in affront. 

”It is I!” The figure said in a whisper, raising its hand to cover its mouth dramatically. ”Solaufein!”

Rini blinked. Then she peered under the figure’s cowl, trying to ignore the horrible smell. ”What are you doing here, you idiot?!” She replied. ”Didn’t we just help you escape the city? Why are you trying to throw it all away?”

”It’s all perfectly safe,” The Drow replied, sounding a little affronted. ”I’m disguised as a humble onion-seller, nobody will look twice at me.”

”He’s probably right about that,” Jaheira admitted. ”The stench is truly atrocious. I expect nobody will want to come within nostril-reach of him if they can help it.”

Solaufein nodded. ”You have business in the Temple of Lolth, I believe?” He whispered. ”Business of a shall we say secretive nature?”

”I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Rini furiously whispered back. ”What ever you think you know, you’re wrong.”

”Oh, I don’t think so.” The Drow peered up at her, his eyes glinting red in the deep shadows of his cloak. ”It concerns eggs, does it not?” He smiled a quick, mirthless smile. ”Yes, I thought as much. I can help you.” He carefully opened the dirty sack sitting on the ground next to him, and Rini had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself silent. Silver glinted inside, shining silver eggs. ”You see?” Solaufein went on. ”These are replicas, perfect replicas.” Another smile, this one triumphant. ”And unlike those given to you by Phaere, these aren’t marked. I’m sure you see the advantage this could give you?”

_I could take the real eggs, put Phaere’s replicas in their place, and give her these. She’d be none the wiser. We could slip away before she notices._

”How do you know all of this, and how is it you are so conveniently able to make us this offer?” Edwin asked. His fingers twitched briefly into a cantrip, red sparks dancing off them, arching into a flame. ”If you think to betray us, be assured you’ll regret it – very briefly.”

”I am not without allies in the city,” Solaufein replied. ”I cannot give you their names, but I give you my word, I do seek to aid you. If I wanted to betray you it would have been simple enough to do so already.”

”Politics and plots,” Anomen said with a scowl. ”I don’t like it, but he has a point. He could have betrayed us already had he wanted to. Accepting his offer can hardly make things worse.”

”Yes,” Rini said. ”We’ll accept it.” She took the sack, handing it over to Jaheira. ”Here. We’d better not get them all mixed up.” She nodded to Solaufein. ”I don’t really trust you all the way, but for now, thanks.” She grinned quickly. ”Now go get a bath, would you?”

The warrior smoothly got to his feet, giving her a quick bow. ”Farewell,” He said. ”I think we will not meet again. Good luck in your enterprise.” He swiftly walked off, disappearing into the shadows of the city until he was gone from sight.

”One thing’s for sure,” Rini said with a brief sigh. ”If we all survive this, I won’t want to see another egg again for as long as I live, except maybe scrambled. ” She straightened her shoulders. ”Well, no putting it off I guess. Let’s go to the temple and try to act as rogues.”

The Temple of Lolth was a large building, dominated by a black cupola crisscrossed with silver spider-web patterns. The spider motif was prevalent everywhere else as well, including two big spider statues on either side of the entrance, each one as large as a horse. 

_Yuck_ , Rini thought. _I get that they like spiders, but that’s just tacky._

Inside, they first entered into a public area, a big hall with corridors leading off in different directions. Signposts marked the way to different areas such as ’The Sacrificial Grounds’, ’The Drider Pits’, ’The Halls of Exalted Questioning’ and ’The Canteen’.

”Horrible,” Anomen muttered under his breath.

”Mmm,” Rini absently agreed. ”I don’t really want to think about what their food is like here. I guess they won’t eat spiders, but they might eat the sacrifices.” A thought occurred to her. ”Actually, let’s go check it out.”

”I hardly think this is an appropriate time for a snack,” Jaheira reproached her  
.   
”Oh, I know it’s not. But there might be other things than food there, you see. Let’s go take a look.”

Half an hour later Zaerini found herself creeping up behind a very irate Drow cook. It was no wonder he was irate either, given that Edwin was waving his hands and treating him to a very long and angry rant about the quality of the food in the canteen. The wizard was suggesting that mashed cockroaches would be a superior alternative to the slop called ’soup’ by the cook, and that the roaches would also trump the cook when it came to breeding and ancestry. The man never noticed the half-elf bard edging in behind him, and towards the open door of a certain closet. Nor did he notice her triumphantly withdrawing…

”…a bar of soap?” Anomen asked once the group had retreated to the safety of an empty corridor. ”Forgive me for saying so, but couldn’t we just have bought one if we needed to wash?”

”Not this kind, we couldn’t,” Rini explained, gingerly placing the fat yellow bar in her pack. ”This is found only in the Temple of Lolth. They make it from the… the people who get sacrificed to the Spider Queen. It’s especially slippery.” She noticed the rather frozen looks on the faces of her companions and shrugged irritably. ”Alythrae told me, all right? She told all these stories about the rites of Lolth when we were out together and…look, I know it’s horrible and gross, just bear with me here. Now, Phaere told me more or less what to expect, and we need a few other things to get this job done. A rag of some kind – thanks Minsc, that hankie will do nicely. A disctraction, invisibility potions for us all, of the strong kind, and I know that Eddie has that covered.” She smiled at her lover. ”And last but not least, a ten-foot pole. You can’t go wrong with a ten-foot pole.”

In the distant reaches of the Temple, past both the Orgy Hall, the Forge of Souls, the Pool and the Halls of Pwn, lay the Treasury, conveniently marked out as such by the sign above the corridor leading to it. The corridor itself was mostly empty, apart from the regular kind of artwork decorating the walls and featuring mostly scenes of bloody carnage, but occasionally erotic art and in one case what was apparently a knitting pattern adapted for humanoid intestines. It ended with an open archway, and on either side of that stood a large and burly female Drow guard, wearing armour that Sarevok would have been drooling for, had he been alive and there to see it. It was black, it was spiky, and each helmet was decorated with a giant spike that made the guards resemble that not-so-gentle grey denizen of the savannah, the common rhinoceros. There was no locked door, but past the archway it was possible to see the next two guards, two large stone golems standing motionless next to a niche in the wall. Little flickers of lightning fizzled through the air in front of the niche, blocking access to whatever lay inside. 

”It’s time,” Rini whispered, edging back around the corner of the corridor before the guards could see her. ”It’s just like Phaere described it. Eddie?”

The wizard nodded, and deftly wove the necessary spell, whispering the words so they wouldn’t be noticed. ”Done,” He murmured. ”We are now all of us invisible, as is all our gear. But we can still be heard, sensed or smelt, so be careful. (Not everybody has the natural affinity for being a masterful rogue that I do, after all).”

The bard smiled to herself, and carefully assembled the next part of her plan. There hadn’t been a ten-foot-pole as such, but there had been two broomsticks in the Canteen’s janitorial closet where she’d filched the soap. Tie them together with a sturdy leather whip from the Orgy Hall – and hadn’t that been a weird place to visit – and then add a certain other oblong object from the Orgy Hall that made Anomen blush tremendously whenever he looked at it. That made it ten feet exactly. 

_Why ten?_ Softpaws asked, her mental voice filled with curiosity. _Surely nine would work just as well?_

_Nah. It’s always ten. Not sure why, but there’s some very subtle magic involved in that, it’s basic adventurer stuff. About as basic as combining random stuff you find lying about the place and making something very useful out of it. You ready?_

_I’m a Cat_ , the familiar smugly returned. _I’m always ready, but I expect cream afterwards._

_When we get out of here. Just be careful._

_As careful as you, kitten. Now go._

Nodding silently to her companions, able to make them out as a flickering blue outline under the spell which hid them from all others, Rini slowly moved towards the guards. She may not be as good at this as Immy, but she knew she was far from useless. Once she was close enough, she raised the pole, carefully and delicately edging it between the two guards. The space between them was quite wide, it didn’t even come close to touching them. At the end of the pole, there was Minsc’s handkerchief of course, thoroughly drenched in slippery grease. It, too, was invisible, but she still had to take care not to be heard. Finally, she deemed that the floor behind the two guards was about as slippery as it could get. 

_Go!_

Softpaws slunk off towards the door, nimbly leaping across the grease and inside the room. There was a brief moment of silence.

”Meeeeeeooooowwww!”

”INTRUDER ALERT! INTRUDER ALERT!”

Heavy, booming footsteps as the golems activated, a black furry streak shooting past her as well as the surprised Drow guards, and then…

RUMBLERUMBLEBOOM

Rini winced, covering her sensitive ears as the two golems skidded along the greasy floor, crashing into the guards and knocking them out cold. Trying in vain to get to their feet again, the golems simply succeeded in thoroughly mashing the Drow against the floor, and angry curses were mingled with shrieks and grunts of pain. Their situation was made even more awkward by the horns decorating their helmet, which now seemed to be poking them in some very unpleasant places.

_Better hurry._

She motioned her friends closer, past the heap of guards and golems who were unaware of the invisible intruders in their midst, and finally inside the treasury. The lightning sparkled up and down in front of the niche, and inside lay what she sought, four gleaming silver dragon eggs. 

_Hurry hurry_

She didn’t like this next part, didn’t like it at all. She would have done it herself, but Minsc wouldn’t hear of it, not his Witch. And he was stronger than her, true, but even with Anomen’s regenerative spell his skin still scorched and blistered as he reached inside, again and again. The smell stung her nostrils and her eyes, but she didn’t look away. It was her plan. She owed him to watch, and if he didn’t cry out with pain, she did. Inside, she did. 

Finally, it was done. The golems and the guards were still down, the real dragon eggs in her keeping, Phaere’s replicas stored safely inside the niche, and the grease wiped away. Once the guards got back in business, they would have seen nothing but some stray animal, and they’d find the eggs safely where they should be. No alarm would be raised.

_Almost done_ , Rini thought, deep relief flooding her. _Almost done with this hellish place. Almost._

Only Phaere left to deal with now. And if she closed her eyes and focused, she could almost fool herself that it would be easy. Almost. 

-*-

”It is time.” Matron Mother Ardulace smiled, the scar twisting her mouth turning the smile into an unpleasant grimace. She directed an approving glance at the heap of silvery eggs lying in the very center of the summoning chamber’s floor. ”Phaere, do you stand ready?”

”I do, Matron Mother,” Phaere said with a smile of her own. She didn’t look at Zaerini, but the half-elf fancied she could feel the drow’s gaze burning through her skin all the same. I have no choice. ”The demon lord is sure to grant glory to the one who gains his favour, and I intend to be present to see it.”

”Good. And you, Veldrin? Are you as anxious to see this as my dutiful daughter is?”

”Yes, Matron Mother,” Zaerini said, her mouth feeling as dry as dust. She didn’t dare look at her companions. Only Jaheira and Edwin were present, Minsc and Anomen were outside, keeping watch over the eggs. The true eggs, she hoped. _What if we mixed them all up somehow? I was looking at the markings, but what if…_

”Then let us begin,” Ardulace interrupted her thoughts. The Matron Mother was wearing a plain white robe, as was Phaere, decorated only with a narrow belt of silver links. The reflected light from the torches around the walls of the round room made them glow a deep red. The room was white as well, pure white stone walls and floor, smooth and shining. In the very middle of the floor there was a small hollow, in which the eggs lay, and around them Ardulace had drawn her summoning circle. Gently curving symbols and letters, spiraling round and round, the beauty of their symmetry belying their intent. They glistened wetly, a red so dark it seemed almost black. Blood. _How many people died for it? Or is it animal?_ She didn’t dare ask. A true servant of Lolth would never do so. She desperately wanted to reach out for Edwin, for comfort, but she didn’t dare do that either. _I’m a drow. For a while longer, I must be a drow._

She stood silently, listening to Ardulace chanting the words of the summoning spell, but the words themselves blurred into a low rumble, a painful throbbing inside her skull. And there was another sound now, just on the edge of hearing. The flapping of wings, great dark wings. She could almost see them, almost feel the wind against her skin.

”Attend me, great one!” Ardulace called. ”Attend me, Lord Uzen, and claim your sacrifice!”

The air seemed to be slowly seeping out of the summoning chamber, and Rini swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep breathing. It seemed dark too, the torches were still glowing but their light was dim, as if seen though an oily mist. And it was cold, so cold. She shivered briefly, and then made herself stand still. _If Eddie ever tries to summon something like this, I’m so putting my foot down about it. On top of his foot, I think._

Something was forming inside the summoning circle, a dark shape, cold smoke coalescing into a solid form. Amorphous at first, it gradually became more humanoid, but nobody could possibly have mistaken it for a human. Lord Uzen stood half again as tall as a tall man. He was muscular, with a coldly handsome face, and curly silver hair. He had silver eyes as well, molten silver with no pupils, and yes, wings. Enormous wings, with black feathers that rustled lightly as he moved. That wasn’t his most striking feature however. No, that would be the mouths. Hundreds, thousands of mouths, covering every square inch of bare skin, until it was impossible to see what colour the skin between them was, or if there was any skin at all. Grinning, leering little mouths, with moist pink lips, flickering tongues and teeth like sharp needles. 

_If I sick up on the demon lord’s feet_ , Zaerini thought, _will he eat me?_ She glanced over at Edwin, and was gratified to see that he was looking quite pale under the dark drow skin. _Good. Maybe this’ll take the demon summoning urge away._

”Who calls Lord Uzen of the Shivering Walls?” The demon asked, in a low, pleasant voice. No, in many voices, as all the mouths spoke, slightly out of sync with each other so that there was a constant chittering echo.

”I do,” Ardulace said, and it had to be said for her, her voice didn’t tremble. ”I bring you a great offering, oh great one, in return for the power I seek.”

”Oh, you do, do you?” The demon lord chuckled. The mouths offered a shrill, cackling chorus for a few seconds after he’d finished speaking, and his wings stirred. ”A gift worth disturbing me for? This I should like to see. Very well, little drow. What is it?”

”Dragon eggs, my lord. The unborn children of a hated silver dragon, a meal fit for your consumption.” Ardulace pointed an elegantly manicured finger at the eggs. ”Let this offering prove the sincerity of my offer.”

Uzen watched the eggs for a moment, and then the multitude of mouths all sneered. ”These,” He said, are forgeries. Not even very good ones, I might add.” His wings bestirred themselves, their shadows lengthening as he took a step towards Ardulace, then another. ”You would disturb me for this?”

The Matron Mother backed slowly towards the wall, until she could go no further. ”Great Lord, I…”

”Enough! As you said yourself, little one, your ’sincerity’ has been proven.” The mouths opened wide, hot and fetid breath filling the summoning chamber with the stench of sulphur. ”And as it seems I won’t be feasting on dragon souls, I must settle for yours instead.” A large hand grabbed Ardulace by the waist, and the demon began to feed. Many mouths at once, nibbling, tearing, gouging, swallowing, until even the screams of pain stopped and the last lumps of raw, quivering meat disappeared down the demon lord’s many gullets. Zaerini stood absolutely still, her face spattered with hot blood, and tried to remember to breathe. 

”Well,” Uzen finally said, thousands of pink tongues simultaneously licking moist lips. ”That put me in a slightly better mood. Are there any other interesting offers, I wonder, or are we done?”

”Yes!” Phaere exclaimed, pointing towards a panel in the wall that was slowly sliding open. Inside, there was a small compartment, and another pile of silver eggs. ”I have the real dragon eggs, and for the boon you would have granted my mother, they are all yours.” She was smiling triumphantly, her eyes gleaming. ”I am the Matron Mother of Ust Natha now, and this power will be mine.”

”Interesting,” Uzen said, bending over the newly revealed eggs. ”Yes, this is much better.”

”As it should be, my lord! Now, the power I desire is…”

Uzen raised his hand, cutting Phaere off. ”As I said, much better. A much better forgery that is.”

”What?!” Phaere’s face turned grey with shock, and as she turned around to face Zaerini her eyes filled with growing comprehension. ”Veldrin. You. For this betrayal, I’ll…”

”You’ll do nothing,” Uzen interrupted her. His mouths were opening hungrily again. ”Except possibly serve as an afterdinner treat. I’ll save you for later, I think. One must watch one’s figure, after all.” With a snap of his fingers, Phaere tumbled unconscious to the ground, only to be picked up and slung across the demon lord’s shoulder. Uzen smiled pleasantly. ”Dark, bitter drow,” He said, smacking his lips. ”Should go marvellously with roast gnome.” He bent closer, and Zaerini suddenly found that terrible face staring directly into hers, so close that she could her the whispering of a thousand restless tongues. ”Any more eggs to offer, oh most interesting Daughter of Bhaal? Yes, I know what you are.” He grinned. ”Your sire would have approved of your conduct here, to be sure. Chip off the old god, hmmm?”

”Go away,” Rini said, her lips feeling numb and cold. ”I’ll give you nothing.”

”Ah, but you already have!” The demon lord laughed, a darkly seductive chuckle echoing from all his lips. ”A dragonling’s soul, tempting as it would be, pales against that of a mature sentient being, after all. Daughter of Bhaal, I am well content with your gift. But if you ask nothing in return, then you shall receive nothing, a wise choice to make.” Silver eyes sparkled with amusement. ”Now goodbye. Let’s see how fast you can run.”

There was a loud hiss, a cloud of swirling silver dust, and then it cleared, the demon was gone, leaving the scene of carnage behind. 

”I think,” Edwin said in an uncharacteristically quiet voice, ”It would be an excellent idea to take him up on his advice and get out of here. Now.”

”Ah, leaving already?” A new voice cut in. ”Such a shame, and here I wanted to thank you all properly.” Zaerini turned around, feeling no surprise at all, only a sense of dull appreciation. _Of course. I should have known._  
”Alythrae,” She said, looking her fellow bard straight in the eyes. ”Or should I say, Matron Mother?”

”If you like,” Alythrae said, smiling. ”Though such formalities are hardly necessary between us, my dear. Not after you’ve helped my ascention along so nicely.”

”You planned all this?” Jaheira asked in a flat voice. ”All of it?”

”Well. Not all of it, of course. Summoning the demon was my mother’s idea in the first place, after all. And Phaere did what she did of her own accord. I simply took advantage.” Alythrae wrinkled her nose as she surveyed the stained walls and floor of the summoning chamber. ”Phew. It’ll take ages to get all this blood out. Let’s hope mother didn’t do something foolish such as sacrifice all the cleaning staff.” She turned around again, and shrugged. ”For what it’s worth, I really did enjoy your company, Veldrin.”  
Her smile took on a slightly wistful edge. ”Ah, what might have been. I would ask you to stay, if I thought you’d accept. But I won’t pine. I’m not my sister, after all, or her pitiful former lover.”

”Solaufein,” Rini said, not taking her eyes off the other woman. ”Was he in on your plan?”

”Him?! Hardly, he couldn’t dissemble his way out of an empty bag. No, I made certain he conveniently just happened to meet up with some charming people claiming to be the Cult of Eilistrae. Solaufein being Solaufein, he saw what he wanted to see.”

_Eilistrae. The goddess wanting something more for the Drow than darkness. I wonder what she’d think of this._

”I should have known,” She said, surprised at how calm her voice sounded. ”It was all so very convenient, him just happening to be able to get hold of those perfect copies of the eggs like that. I really should have suspected something was wrong.”

”Don’t be too hard on yourself, my dear. I’ve been doing this sort of thing for a very long time, after all.” Alythrae smiled again, that warm, enchanting smile. ”You wanted the eggs, Solaufein wanted revenge on my sister. I wanted Ust Natha ruled by the most capable person around, myself. There, everybody happy.”

”You won’t try to prevent us taking the eggs?” Jaheira asked, scoffing. ”I find that hard to believe.”

Alythrae sniffed. ”What would I want with them? The demon is gone, and good riddance. Deliver them to the dragon, sell them, or make omelettes from them. I don’t care.” She briskly walked towards the door. ”Now, you’d better hurry. Mother had the city sealed, but I’ll send word to the gates that you’re to be given free passage. You are leaving, aren’t you? Yes, I thought so.” She looked back across her shoulder as she walked out the door, eyes glittering with amusement. ”Goodbye, dear Veldrin. It’s been fun.”  
The journey to the city gates seemed to take an eternity, but perhaps, Zaerini thought, that was just a reflection of how long her entire stay in Ust Natha had seemed to last. She tried to think of nothing much, nothing but the sack of eggs that Minsc was carrying very carefully in his arms. She was trying not to think about the illusion spell on her, or of the fact that she could feel it begin to unravel now, Adalon’s magic slowly coming undone now that the eggs were hers. She was definitely trying to not think about Alythrae. 

”We have what we came for,” Edwin said, speaking quietly so only she could hear as they walked along. ”None of the rest matters. Soon enough, we’ll catch up with Irenicus and settle things once and for all.”

”She tricked me,” Rini said, equally softly. ”Would that have happened if I still had my soul, I wonder? Would I have been taken in so easily?”

Her lover paused. ”I don’t know,” He finally said. ”Unbelievable as it might sound, even my vast intellect cannot determine ’what might have been’ without a certain small margin for error.” He reached up to touch her cheek, warm fingers trailing along her jaw. ”But I do know this. From the moment I first laid eyes on you, my Hellkitten, you’ve never been the kind to give up. You will not do so now either.”

Fire. Warmth inside, a faint ember. Not what it had been, but still there. 

”No,” Zaerini said, and she fancied she felt a new spring in her steps, a new strength in her voice. ”Damn right I won’t. Never.”

_Irenicus. I’m coming for you. Soon._

Ust Natha dwindled away behind them, and she didn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus exits Alythrae, stage left. Hope you liked that twist!


	170. Random Encounters

**Cards Reshuffled 170 – Random Encounters**

_As an adventurer, you’ll see your fair share of combat. But not all combat is engaged with spells or swords, the most satisfying battle is often one won by wits alone._

_Excerpt from ’Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

”You have them? You have my children?” Adalon reared up on her hind legs, her eyes glowing like silver lanterns far above the small group of adventurers. ”If you’ve returned without them…”

”We have them,” Zaerini interrupted. Part of her was aware that maybe interrupting a dragon wasn’t the wisest thing to do, but she was weary, heartsick, and completely out of patience. ”Your help had better be worth all we went through to get them. Minsc, would you?”

”Of course, Little Rini,” Minsc said. He smiled up at the dragon, ignoring the steam that was evaporating from her nostrils. ”The poor dragon mother will have her little ones back, hiding them from her is as bad as it would be to part Minsc from his trusty Boo, except with less blood and screaming for mercy.” 

”Er, Minsc?” Zaerini hissed. Adalon’s mouth was opening, and it wasn’t just her nostrils that were steaming now. ”I think she’s getting a bit restless. The eggs, please?”

The ranger nodded, and carefully placed the sack containing the eggs between Adalon’s front paws. She gingerly used one claw to open the sack, and the topmost egg rolled out. ”There is a crack here,” The dragon said, her voice a low and not entirely friendly rumble. ”Why is there a crack in my precious egg?”

”We were running for our lives, you overgrown lizard!” Edwin piped up. ”You should consider yourself lucky we didn’t elect to bring back an omelet instead. (Lightly seasoned with garlic, and perhaps a mature cheese.)”

”Ha ha ha,” Rini said in her brightest voice, clasping a hand across her lover’s mouth. ”He’s such a kidder, good thing you weren’t taking him seriously at all isn’t it? No reason to, he adores baby dragons, he’d never harm one, right Eddie?”

”Mmf.”

”Oh. Sorry.”

”It is slightly cracked because it is hatching,” Jaheira commented with infinite patience. ”Eggs have a peculiar habit of doing just that in the fullness of time. I have examined them and they are all perfectly healthy. You have my word.”

Adalon suspiciously lowered her head to sniff the egg, and just as her snout touched it there was a faint but audible ’crack’ and then a shrill chirping noise. More cracks rapidly formed, and suddenly a tiny, wet head emerged from the egg, neatly headbutting Adalon in the nose. ”Kree?” The baby dragon said, blinking up at its mother. It chirped again, then shrieked as the egg fell over. 

”My baby…” Adalon whispered in a voice like a rumbling waterfall. She swiftly used the tip of her claw to fee the dragonling, then picked it up in her paw. ”It’s…a girl!”

”Oh good,” Edwin said. ”I shall proceed to knit little pink booties, just as soon as you remove this hopelessly outdated Drow disguise, not to mention give us the aid you keep promising to deliver. Or are your skills in that area as feeble as your childminding expertise?”

”Eddie?” Zaerini whispered out of the corner of her mouth as she saw the dragon’s tender look transform into one of outrage. ”You know your particular brand of Thayvian Diplomacy?”

”Yes, my Hellkitten?”

”I don’t think it works very well on dragons. Let’s go back in time to before you said anything and work from there, ok?”

Adalon snorted, and carefully gathered the remaining eggs into a neat little pile. ”You needn’t fear that I will eat your mate, little half-elf. I am a silver dragon, and unlike dirt-grubbing little humanoids I always keep my word, rudeness or not. I promised you aid, and aid you I shall. First, the disguise.” Her eyes seemed to glow more brightly for a moment, and Rini shuddered as an icy tickling sensation crept across her skin. It felt like walking through a cold, misty waterfall, and when it passed she looked down at her own hands, no longer black, and smiled. Her companions all looked relieved as well, and it felt good, so very good, to see their real faces once again. ”Now,” Adalon said, ”I have placed my children under a protection not even Irenicus can breach, but I dare only leave them for a very short time. The wizard you seek is on the surface, launching an attack against the city of Suldanesselar. I will take you close to the surface, the exit closest to city, and you should be able to make your way out easily from there.”

”What of the city?” Anomen asked. ”Will you join us in battle against Irenicus?”

”I will not. My first duty is to my children. My second is to keep the Drow from conquering the surface at this point, but I will not risk my children against a small raid. The bulk of their forces will remain in Ust Natha now, given the recent turmoil there. You – and the elves above – will need to deal with the rest.” The dragon smiled coldly, long teeth glittering. ”Of course, I will need to bring some food back to my children. Now, we go!” 

Silver light, magic so strong it almost made her hair stand on end, making her blood tingle and her heart beat faster. A strong current sweeping her along, a wind sweeping her off her feet – and then Zaerini opened her eyes, and she was elsewhere.  
The tunnel she was standing in was fairly cramped, but leading into another area, corridors which seemed carefully crafted and decorated. The statues were crumbling though, the masonry was cracked and faded, and the ground was stained with blood and littered with corpses. Some of the dead were drow, but the others were surface elves, and somewhere above and in front of her there was the sound of a raging battle. Starting back at her in wideeyed surprise were a group of perhaps dozen drow, reaching for their weapons.

”A parting gift, half-elf,” Adalon said. The dragon had taken on the shape of a tall elven woman, with shining silver hair and icy grey eyes. ”Now go, and take such a vengeance on Irenicus that the heavens themselves will tremble at his fate!” She raised her arms, and magic gathered around her, then exploded outwards in silver bolts. They pierced the drow, made them fall shrieking to the ground, and the flames didn’t stop until all the bodies lay still. Rini turned towards the dragon, but she was already gone, with only a bright afterimage of a teleportation spell to mark her passing. 

_Wow._

”We need to get moving,” Jaheira said, taking her arm to urge her along. ”These drow are dead, but there’s no telling how many may follow.”

”Yeah, you’re right.” The bard quickly shook her head, trying to clear it of the magical interference. ”Let’s go.” Up. Outside! I can’t wait!

There were in fact a few more groups of drow ahead, but they were already quite preoccupied. A battle was indeed raging, between the drow and more of the surface elves they’d already seen below. None of them seemed inclined to pay much attention to anybody else, apart from a few surprised glances and shouts there was no interference as Rini and her friends hurried past them through the remnants of what seemed to be an old temple. Finally, finally, there was light ahead. Not torchlight, not magelight, but daylight, glorious daylight at long last. The bard almost broke into a full run, so eager was she to get out, to be free of the Underdark. 

_Yes! At last! No more horrible people trying to kill me at every turn or sending me on disgusting errands!_

”Take one more step, half-breed, and a score of arrows will pierce your body even before it reaches the ground.”

_Or then again, maybe not._

Perhaps twenty or so elves were surrounding her, all of them wearing glittering green chainmail sparkling with protective spells. All of them had bows as well, and yes, all of those bows were trained upon her and her friends. 

”Once in a while,” Anomen remarked, ”It would be such a pleasant change for people to be happy to see us. Just once in a while.”

”I warn you, you tree-hugging putrid little maggots,” Edwin snarled. ”My patience is at its limit, and if one of you so much as twitches, there will be a fireball heading your way.”

”That would be extremely foolish of you, mage,” The elven leader said. He was tall and muscular, with dark hair and a grim face. As Rini looked more closely, she thought she saw traces of old scars, perhaps burns. ”There are more of us surrounding you, you could never withstand us all. If you value your lives, you will answer my questions.”

”Fine, fine,” Rini said, throwing her hands in the air. ”I’m Zaerini of Candlekeep, I’ve been called the Hero or possibly the Terror of the Sword Coast and my favourite colour is red, so there! I guess that’s your cue for trying to kill, maim or incarcerate us? Gods know we’re used to it. ”

The elf gave her a very peculiar look. ”I am Elhan,” He said. ”You seem unbalanced, even for a half-breed. We will see what the Seers make of you.” He motioned to the elven soldiers, who nudged the adventurers along a winding path through the woods, occasionally poking them with various sharp objects. 

”I should have said purple,” Rini muttered. ”Maybe even black. Green? Blue? Offwhite?” 

The path lead to a clearing amidst very tall trees, so tall that it was actually hard to see the top of them, with trunks so thick it would take several people to encircle them with their arms. There was an elven camp here, with tents set up in rows, and more soldiers guarding the perimeter. Elhan led them to one of the larger tents, where three elven mages awaited. The mages were all male, they all wore white robes, and they were all shaved completely bald. It was not a pretty sight. 

”Now,” Elhan said, ”I will ask my questions. I warn you, the Seers know truth from lies, and they cannot be fooled.”

”Yes, that’s easy enough to claim,” Edwin scoffed. ”I never heard of such a spell, and I know magic as well as I know the names of my ancestors.”

”False,” The three mages chorused. 

”What?! You’re insulting my magical education? Do you call me ignorant, you insipid little clones?”

”Truth.”

”Er, Eddie?” Rini carefully pointed out. ”They’re still pointing at us with weapons, remember?” She turned to Elhan. ”Go on then. But it’s been a long day, so be quick about it, ok?”

The elf nodded. ”You came from the Underdark. Are you allies of the drow?”

”We were trying to get away from them,” Rini said, carefully pushing thoughts of Alythrae away. ”We killed quite a few of them, in fact.”

”Truth,” The mages intoned. 

”Next question,” Elhan said. ”Are you allies of the one named Irenicus?”

Rage. Black, twisted rage, foaming inside of her, making her voice thick. ”I’m looking for him,” Zaerini said. ”And when I catch up with him, I’ll kill him. If you’re friends of his, I’ll kill you too.”

”Strong truth.”

”And if you don’t stop doing that,” The bard snapped at the mages, ”I may just kick you all in the nads before I twist your ears off.”

”Emphatic truth! Er, permission to take a break, commander?”

”Fine,” Elhan said, waving them away. ”I’ve heard enough.” He turned cold eyes on the group. ”I can’t say I would have chosen this path myself,” He said. ”But it would seem we are allies, for now. I will request your aid, and then I will be able to aid you in turn.”

”Oh joy!” Edwin said. ”Another aggravating elf to run errands for. And here my life was feeling so incomplete as of late. (If I don’t eventually get the opportunity to disintegrate this one, I shall be sorely disappointed.)”

”You say you seek Irenicus,” Elhan said in a terse voice. ”That…fiend has attacked my city, the city of Suldanesselar. Even now, he is undoubtedly wreaking havoc there.”

”So what are you sitting around here for?” Rini asked. ”Or are you just waylaying travelers for fun?”

”I would attack him if I could!” The elf snapped. ”Unfortunately, the city is magically sealed away, and those of us who were outside when it happened cannot find our way back again. The artifact necessary to open the passage to the city, the Rhynn Lanthorn, was stolen from us, stolen from the vilest of Irenicus’ allies.” He cleared his throat. ”I speak of the mage’s sister. Bodhi. She is a…”

”Vampire,” Jaheira said in a flat voice. ”Yes, we know.”

”Find Bodhi,” Elhan stated. ”Slay her, and bring me the Lanthorn. Once you’ve done that, I’ll be able to clear us a path to Irenicus.”

”I suppose,” Rini said, ”It’s silly of me to even ask if this troupe of armed and professional elven soldiers will be coming alone to help the five of us kill the incredibly dangerous vampire and all her vampire minions?”

Elhan just gave her a blank look. ”Are you insane?” He said. ”I couldn’t possibly risk my men on something so hazardous. Besides, we have the finals in our rock-paper-scissors tournament coming up, and I’m bound to come in first place.”

”Fine,” The bard sighed. ”After all this time, I really should have known better than to even ask.”

_Later that day, on the road to Athkatla…_

”Something’s definitely wrong,” Zaerini said, suspiciously looking over her shoulder. The road behind her and her friends was empty still, but the nagging feeling was still there, the feeling that Very Bad Things were about to happen. 

”What ever do you mean?” Jaheira asked, giving the younger half-elf a sceptical look in return. ”It’s a sunny, clear day, not a cloud in the sky. There are no murderous drow about, and although we have some bad business to deal with in Athkatla, there’s no particular reason why anything should go wrong until we get there.”

”Don’t say that!” The bard complained. ”When ever somebody says something like that, something’ll go wrong.”

”Such as?”

”I don’t know. Anything. It could be a random encounter with…bandits maybe.”

”Surely we can deal with a few bandits?” Edwin commented. ”Well, at least I can.”

”All right, maybe it’ll be a hideously deadly ice snake then. Or three dragons at once! Spellcasting dragons who…er…magically teleport us to them and start eating us. And who go invisible, and heal each other, and firebreathe us all to death before we can blink.” Zaerini interrupted her description at this point, noticing that all of her friends were giving her odd looks. 

”Why,” Anomen asked, ”Would there be teleporting dragons out here in the middle of nowhere? It’s called Small Teeth Pass, not Big Teeth Pass. I doubt there’s even enough game out here to feed one dragon, much less three.”

”Minsc fears no dragons! Boo will taunt them all off you, his hamster rage is already rising, see the red glow in his eyes?”

”All I know,” Rini added, ”is that whenever we’re traveling, not doing anything in particular, just going from one place to another, something random almost always happens. Usually something bad. It’s probably another stupid Bhaalthing. If it’s not dragons, it’ll probably be something even worse.”

”Child, you are clearly overwrought,” Jaheira said in her most reassuring voice. ”It’s not surprising, given what you have been through lately, but your fertile imagination is running amok I fear. And what could possibly be a worse encounter than three teleporting dragons?”

”I say Bruenor,” A loud voice sounded from the bushes, ”You do seem to be getting a little forgetful in your old age. Are you sure you didn’t just forget to pack that pink hammer of yours?”

”Oh, I don’t know,” Rini triumphantly told her druid friend. ”How about _him_?”

The party of adventurers stopped, standing their ground as another group of people emerged from the bushes along the road. They were a fairly mixed lot, that was for sure. There was a heavily armed and very grumpy-looking dwarf who was muttering angrily to himself. A small halfling man with curly hair was giggling at the dwarf, occasionally poking him. Behind them, an auburn-haired woman carrying a bow was trading admiring glances with a huge barbarian who had muscles on top of his muscles and in places where surely no muscles ought to be. He was wearing a furry loincloth, an enormous warhammer and sporting a copious amount of chesthair. Finally, there was a drow male. A very angry-looking drow male, who was glaring at Rini and her friends from the moment he saw them. He pointed a trembling and accusing finger directly at the half-elf bard, his voice going up in a cracking falsetto as he spoke. 

”You! I remember you! In the mountains of the Sword Coast!”

”Oh, hi Drizzt!” Rini said, summoning her best and brightest smile. ”Wow, fancy meeting you here of all places! How totally random, what’s the odds of that I wonder?”

”Drizzt?” Anomen whispered. ” _The_ Drizzt? You never mentioned…”

”You stole my scimitars!”

”Not stole! Borrowed.”

”Stole?!” Anomen choked. ”From _Drizzt_?”

”An’ here ye mocked me for the loss of me hammer!” The dwarf Bruenor said, giving Drizzt an accusing look. ”You said those pigstickers were stolen from ye by a guild of forty Kara-Turan ninjas, not some wee girlie!”

”Borrowed! Now hush,” Rini hissed to her priest friend, and then turned back to the drow ranger looming threateningly over her. ”Look, I totally meant to give them back some day, but…”

”You stole them! My lovely Icingdeath! My precious Twinkle!”

”Twinkle,” Edwin sneered. ”He named his sword ’Twinkle’. I wonder what he calls his, ah, other more personal things? ’Mr TinkyWinky perhaps?’.” 

”Told ye it was a stupid name, Drizzt,” The archer girl said in a deadpan voice. 

”I’ll have you know it’s called ’The Pwnmazter’ and not ’Mr TinkyWinky’. And ’Twinkle’ is _not_ a stupid name.” He loomed some more, enough for Minsc to take a protective step closer. ”I want my scimitars back. Now.”

”Ah,” Rini said, coughing. ”See, that’s the problem. I, well, kind of sort of lost them.”

”YOU LOST MY TWINKLE?!” For a drow, Drizzt’s face was going a rather alarming colour, tending towards dark purple. The veins at his temple looked as if they might burst at any moment. 

”Hey, it wasn’t my fault! I was kidnapped by an evil wizard, he stole all my stuff, not just those. Never did manage to find them afterwards. Oh hey, you could take it up with him if you want. His name is Irenicus, and I’m told he’s currently…”

”I don’t care!” Drizzt wasn’t exactly stomping his foot, but he looked as if he was coming close. ”I want my scimitars, and I want some respect around here!”

”My tremendous magical powers foresee a rapidly approaching cataclysmic diplomatic failure here,” Edwin commented, stretching and then flexing his fingers. ”If anybody is wearing anything flammable, it might be a good idea to back away slowly now.”

”No, no,” Rini hastily cut in, taking her lover’s arm. ”We’ll work this out, I’m sure.” She made herself smile again. ”Of course I respect you, Drizzt! Who wouldn’t? I mean – you’re Drizzt! _The_ Drizzt. Heroic dance of death and all that, yep. Heroic deeds all over the place, in a very Drizzty fashion, with your brave friends whose names escape me right now since they aren’t named Drizzt like you are. Hey, if it wouldn’t be totally disrespectful I’d call myself Drizzt too in your honour, just because I’m your Number One Fan. Why, if you ever got fatally wounded I’d nurse you back to health and never ever break your kneecaps with a mallet to keep your wonderfully hunky Drizzty self all to myself.” 

At this particular point in time, she could hear Jaheira make a strangled sound that sounded like a mix between laughter and choking, and she didn’t quite dare look Edwin in the face, but she made herself go on. _Keep the spiel up. Buzz buzz, keep talking. Almost there._ The Idea was shining in the air before her, glimmering and precious, too precious to pass up. 

”That’s…er…good?” Drizzt said, and then cuffed the chortling halfling’s shoulder. ”Now, about my Twinkle…”

”The lad has a fair point,” Bruenor said. ”If ye lost his swords, then ye owe him.”

”Oh, right. The swords.” She sighed, and gave Drizzt a woeful look. ”It’s so sad that they got stolen, isn’t it? I told the truth, I really have no idea where they are.” She raised her hand even as the Drow started to advance on her. ”But! I have a better idea! I can’t give you those swords back, but I can give you another one, a way better one! I’ve waded through buckets of blood to lay my hands on this one, you see, but I’m willing to give it to you since you are, after all, Drizzt. Behold, the Vorpal Blade!” 

With a grand flourish, she drew the Silver Sword. She managed to achieve the perfect triumphant angle as she held it aloft, and a very small glamour spell made the sunlight reflect off the blade with an audible ’ting’. There was a faint sound in the air as of many voices singing a warlike chorus. Zaerini carefully eyed her audience. They were all gaping at the sword, their eyes admiring its beauty. _Oh yes. I have you now._

”But…that sword..” Anomen said behind her and then grunted. ”Ow! Jaheira, what…”

”I am so sorry, my dear Anomen,” The druid said in a very demure voice. ”The sight of that sword in all its glory makes me feel quite overcome with emotion. If you would help me sit down?”

”Oh, of course my lady.” Their footsteps shuffled off. 

”Vorpal Blade?” The archer girl asked. ”Never heard of anything like that.”

”Of course not,” Rini said, putting just a little bit of contempt into her voice. ”But Drizzt has, haven’t you, Drizzt? I know a Hero like him must be familiar with it.”

”Ah yes, of course!” Drizzt said, nodding sagely. ”The Vorpal Blade. I know it well. It is…er…”

”The only sword in existence that could ever hope to slay the evil Jabberwocky,” Rini nodded. ”It’ll lop its head off, just like that. It’ll lop off the head of any evildoer foolish enough to face its master too, of course, but the Jabberwocky especially. Only a great hero could hope to take up such a daunting quest.” She put her hand on her breast and sighed a great sigh of relief. ”Fate clearly made our paths cross today. For here I am, with a burden too heavy to bear, and here you are, a Hero in need of just such a sword as this.” 

”It does seem to be magical, strongly magical,” Bruenor said. ”And a fine blade it is too.”

”Good, good,” Drizzt said, looking rather bewildered. ”Er…Jabberwocky?”

”Yes,” Rini hissed, giving him a dark and ominous look. ”You know the prophecy of course, Drizzt. ’Too brueling does it wobble forth, and quiver to and fro! It burbles high in voices frell and mombies high and low.’ Only the truest Hero of the Land can possibly hope to slay the Jabberwocky, and only with this particular blade. Take it as payment of my debt, and for as long as you hold it you shall not fail to find adventure and glory.”

”We have been a little bored lately,” the halfling said. ”Adventure and glory sounds good, doesn’t it, Drizzt?”

The Drow ranger looked doubtful for a moment, but then he nodded, his eyes fixed upon the shining sword. ”Verily, my small friend! If a Hero the blade seeks, then it falls upon my own humble self to take that task up. No longer shall the Jabberwocky terrorize Faerun! Besides, we could use a good workout after those cookies you baked last night.” He eagerly took the sword, turning it this way and that to make it sparkle. ”I shall name it…Starlight Purity!”

”Fitting name for somebody supposedly still a vir…” Edwin started to say and then fell silent as Rini clasped her hand across his mouth. He sighed, but shrugged. ”For such a hero that is.” 

”Well, great meeting you all,” Rini said, waving cheerfully. ”We’d better be off now. Toodles, and take good care of Starlight Purity.” 

They had walked for perhaps five minutes before anybody said anything. 

”Won’t he be surprised to learn that a large and extremely angry horde of Githyanki want to kill anybody holding onto that sword?” Jaheira asked in a very level voice. 

”Probably,” Rini admitted. ”But hey, I never told him what exactly the Jabberwocky was, did I? Besides, he’s Drizzt, he can handle it.” Some distance behind them there was suddenly a great din, as of swords clashing in battle and of spells being cast. The bard grinned. ”And at least he’ll be getting his workout.”


	171. Encore

**Cards Reshuffled 171 – Encore**

_Some people think rats are the hardest vermin to get rid of, others say it’s roaches. For me, it’s been a different type of pest altogether._

_Excerpt from ’Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Athkatla seemed just the same as before, noisy, bright and colourful. _I don’t really know why I expected it to be different_ , Zaerini thought. _We haven’t been gone that long, really._ So much had happened while she’d been away though, it felt very peculiar to come back to an unchanged city. Well, perhaps that wasn’t all bad. 

”We’ll head over to the Five Flagons first,” She decided. ”It’ll give us a chance to rest and stock up before we go after Bodhi, and catch up with what’s happened while we were away.” She winced briefly. ”I hope Higgold hasn’t run up too huge a bill in my absence.”

”If he did, I suspect Viconia would have made him severely regret it,” Jaheira remarked. ”Perhaps you should instead hope that she hasn’t had him flayed alive for any perceived impertinence.”

”Oh, I’m sure she wouldn’t do that.”

”How sure?”

”Uh…pretty sure? I don’t think she’d want to spoil my play, anyway.”

”I’ve had enough Drow to last me a lifetime already,” Anomen said with a brief sigh, ”But I have to agree she is competent. I do not believe we need fear that the establishment has degenerated into complete chaos.”

As they reached their destination, Rini was relieved to see that the Five Flagons seemed to be in one piece, with customers calmly going in and out. However, as the adventurers descended into the theatre proper, they found it curiously empty and abandoned, with not an actor in sight. _That’s weird. Whether they’ve had the premiere or not, there should be people about, shouldn’t there?_

”Hello?” She called out, walking backstage. The place was quiet too, far too quiet, in a way that sent a quick little tendril of icy cold down her spine. ”Anybody heyaAAAARGGH!” Yanked painfully and suddenly off balance, she was flying upwards like a kite on a string, bouncing up and down, and finally coming to a stop, dangling upsidedown from the rope snare entangling her foot. Behind her, there was a loud crash, and some very vocal curses as Edwin and Minsc tumbled head over heels into the trapdoor that had opened under their feet. _What’s a trapdoor doing backstage? Oooh, please stop bouncing, I’m going to be sick…_

She caught wild, blurry glimpses of Jaheira and Anomen, weapons out and back to back, and then her entire field of vision was filled with a smiling face surrounded by ruffled pink hair. ”Rini!” Imoen exclaimed, hugging her swinging body so tight she could barely breathe. ”You’re back! You’re all back! Oh this is great, we’ve got so much to tell you, you won’t believe it!”

”Urk?”

”I think it might be a good idea to let her down now, Imoen,” Dekaras said, appearing behind Imoen’s shoulder. ”I dare say the amount of blood currently rushing to her brain won’t make her inclined towards a lengthy conversation.”

”Uh? You…Ow!” She fortunately wasn’t very high above the ground, and managed to roll to her feet, even if she still felt ready to keel over. ”You might have let me down a bit more gently!” She accused the assassin, who was putting one of his many daggers away. 

”Teacher Dekaras?” That was Edwin, of course, his voice filtering up from the open trapdoor. ”Is that really you?” 

”Unfortunately,” responded a new voice, and Viconia stepped out from behind the curtain leading to the dressingrooms. The Drow cleric looked much the same as before, except for her long white hair which had been braided into a single thick braid. Her voice sounded rather less composed than Zaerini remembered it however. ”I promised to mind this place and the miserable human peons in your employ,” She said, jabbing a perfectly manicured fingernail into Zaerini’s face. ”But I don’t recall promising anything about having to put up with these…these…uncontrollable rogues!”

”Aw come on, Vic,” Imoen pleaded, patting the irate Viconia on the arm. ”You know we’ve gotta do this stuff, or…”

”The situation,” Dekaras filled in, ”Is regrettably such that…”

”You’re enjoying it! You’re both _enjoying_ it! I swear I’ll…”

”Guys!” Zaerini interrupted in her most plaintive voice. ”Look, can we please go sit down somewhere and fill each other in? After we fish Eddie and Minsc out of that trapdoor, that is. Please?”

”’Course!” Imoen said, and then gave her another tight hug. There were tears in both their eyes when they came apart, but they were both smiling. _Yeah_ , Zaerini thought. _I’d say Athkatla is definitely improved._

The happy reunion went on for quite some time, naturally, before anything particularly substantial could be discussed. Imoen, who happily seemed much healthier than when Rini had last seen her, needed to hug everybody else as well, including Edwin. The wizard looked rather stunned at that, and muttered about ’Grubby and probably sticky fingers all over my finest robes’, but Rini noticed that he didn’t try to push her away. He was very much preoccupied with beaming at Dekaras anyway, and wasn’t paying much attention to anybody else. Forgoing his normally calm and detached demeanor, the assassin grinned right back at him, looking pleased enough to burst and almost as excited as Edwin did. After a brief summary of the events in the Underdark, it was finally time for the two rogues to tell their tale. 

”There was a magic portal in Brynnlaw,” Imoen began. ”And we went into it and got kind of knocked out, but not really and…”

”You jumped into a magic portal not knowing where it went?!” Edwin cut in, with an accusing look at Dekaras. The assassin cleared his thoat, clearly attempting to look innocent. It didn’t work very well. ”Anything could have happened! You could have been…exploded, dismembered or just randomly displaced to some other dimension and lost forever. (My poor stomach…no relief at all.)”

”It seemed a reasonable approach at the time,” Dekaras said in a mild voice. ”Certainly far safer than entering a portal known to lead to the Underdark. Really Edwin, if you want to be an adventurer you cannot let little inconsequential things like this get to you so much.”

”Little inconsequential things? Little inconsequential things!”

”Soooo,” Imoen hurriedly went on, ”It went kind of trippy after that. We were elves for a while. Only not really.”

”Elves?” Edwin echoed, a muscle in his cheek twitching spasmodically. ”Not really?”

”An illusion of sorts,” Dekaras explained. ”Or perhaps more accurately a vision. Somebody very powerful clearly thought it important to show us a few things about our adversary.”

”Irenicus?” Rini asked, hearing her voice go sharp. The old fear was still there, but anger above all else. _Blood. I want to feel his flesh tear, to rend and to…no! Don’t let it out._

”Yeah,” Imoen said, shivering briefly. ”Him. It was him, but like he used to be. Back when he was an elf. Something happened Rini, something really bad. He did something, and that’s why all this stuff is happening now. He was different then, but seeing him still made my flesh crawl.”

”Perhaps we can wait a little with sharing all the details,” Dekaras said, giving Imoen a concerned look. ”At any rate, the illusion eventually ended, and we made our way here to Athkatla.”

”And started making trouble,” Viconia said in an acid voice. 

Imoen smiled, the solemn expression on her face suddenly evaporating. ”Aw, come on, Vic. You know why we’re doing it, and it’s not as if we started it, is it?”

”Perhaps,” The Drow cleric reluctantly admitted. ”But I still haven’t forgiven you for the tripwire in the dressingroom, or for the bucket of live frogs.”

”About that,” Rini said, giving the two rogues a curious look. ”Just why have you two been setting traps all over my theatre?”

”Oh, that’s perfectly obvious, isn’t it?” Dekaras said, raising an eyebrow at her. ”You left some small, but unfinished business behind here, after all. Putting your interests first, we naturally took it upon ourselves to deal with it and protect your investment.”

”I don’t underst…” The bard broke off in mid sentence, as memories came flooding back. Memories of a certain obnoxious halfling, one who just happened to be in the entertainment industy himself. One who had sworn to best her. ”Oh no,” She said with a loud groan. ”Not him. Not…Ashley Parsley?”

”That miserable little runt calling himself the Stage Sage has been trying to stir up trouble ever since you left,” Viconia growled. ”It has ranged from attempted bribery to outright sabotage, including arson. Oh, and let’s not forget the herd of trolls he tried to set loose backstage. You’re lucky you still have a theatre to come back to. I could have taken care of it, but you had to make things difficult by preferring him kept alive, didn’t you?”

”Viconia is quite right,” Dekaras agreed. ”The most expedient solution to your pest problem was sadly not available due to your own scruples, so we had to look to other options.”

”It’s been fun though,” Imoen said with a quick smile. ”You’ve gotta admit that much.”

”It hasn’t been without its entertainment value, true,” The assassin agreed. ”Even so, we’ve been blocking his attempts and repaying them in kind, but I still would recommend a more permanent treatment.”

”Look, I’m sorry,” Rini said, throwing up her hands. ”And it’s not that I don’t appreciate the thought, but I just feel…squicky about sending an assassin after somebody, unless there’s really no other choice, even if he’s a pain, and even with you a friend. It’s probably after Sarevok kept doing that to me. I know it doesn’t exactly make sense, given some other things I’ve done. No offence meant.”

”None taken.”

”Should we be prepared for some imminent attack?” Jaheira asked. ”Where is Parsley now?”

Imoen and Dekaras looked at each other. ”It’s what…a couple of hours before midday?” Imoen asked. ”So he probably hasn’t discovered the greased staircase yet then?”

”Probably not,” Dekaras said. ”I would estimate he’s still dealing with the snakes, and will be for some time yet.”

”Snakes?!” Rini asked. Her legs seemed to be wobbling a little. _Probably because of that trap._

”In his privy,” Imoen proudly proclaimed. ”We spent most of last night setting that up, but it was totally worth it.” She grinned. ”More than a dozen, big ones.”

”Not venomous though,” Dekaras added. ”Given your…scruples.” He paused in thought. ”Well, not particularly venomous. Not enough to kill him, certainly.”

”Oh. So…just enough to make him mad?”

”He already was,” The assassin replied. ”I’ve come across his kind before, you know. He won’t stop until he’s either dead or otherwise permanently incapacitated. If not, he’ll keep coming.”

”Well, maybe we should…”

There was a knock at the door and then another one, sounding rather frantic. Before Rini had the time to reply, it burst open and Higgold rushed inside, wringing his hands. 

”Ruined!” He exclaimed, waving a piece of paper in the air. ”Ruined, broken and destitute! Oh, that my art should come to this…”

”Pull yourself together, man!” Viconia snapped. ”What are you blithering about? What ruin?”

”The premiere!” Higgold whined. ”It’s tonight, and Rose…Rose…”

”What about her?” Rini asked, now beginning to get worried. She couldn’t say she knew the former courtesan very well, but she’d rather liked what she’d seen of the woman. _Plus, she’s our lead actress._

Instead of replying, Higgold wordlessly handed her the note, and as she read it, the half-elf bard bit back a few choice curses. It was rather brief, but it said what it had to. 

_If all the world is but a stage, then who are the Understudies? Pray you’ve a good one, for your little heroine will miss her cue this eve. I’ll be watching as all of Athkatla will know your shame, and only my show will go on. As for little Rosie, you’d best hope she enjoys the part I offered her before, the last one she’ll ever play._

”That…that dastardly Parsley!” Zaerini spat, resisting the temptation to crumple the letter and instead passing it among her friends. ”He’s kidnapped Rose, we have to get her back!”

”And hopefully before the appointed hour,” Viconia said. ”We did have an understudy, but she came down with food poisoning yesterday.”

”Parsley?”

”Most likely. Human foodstuffs are strange, but even stale biscuits aren’t meant to make your hair fall out in clumps, are they?”

”Pardon me, mistress,” Higgold cut in, coughing nervously. ”But as you did revise the script, I believe you would know the part well enough to get by?”

”Of course she does,” Edwin said. ”And can act it far better than any inferior dabbler, I might add. (Though she’d best not get into too passionate an embrace with some chinless fool of an actor, and especially not that annoying tiefling.)”

”I wouldn’t say better,” Rini said, thinking hard. ”But…I do know it, more or less. Yeah, I think I can manage with a few hours to read up. We couldn’t go after Bodhi until tomorrow morning anyway.” She felt a smirk coming on. ”All right, gang. While I’m doing this thing, the rest of you’ll have the more important jobs. Let’s rescue Rose – and then settle the score with the Stage Sage, once and for all.”

-*-

”So, this is Parsley’s lair, is it?” Jaheira said a little later, studying the tall building in front of her. ”It’s certainly very…very…” She gave up for the moment, and shuddered as she looked at the building again. It had been painted a vivid purple colour, with glowing magical lights lining a roof which sprouted so many odd turrets and angles that it seemd almost organic. Huge letters, in blazing pink, spelled out the words ’Parsley’s Pleasure Palace’ above the bright red double doors. Just above the letters there was an enormous sculpture of Parsley himself, triumphantly gazing down at all who would approach. The sculpture in turn was…

”Wow,” Imoen said, interrupting the druid’s thoughts. ”That can’t be anatomically correct, can it?”

”I doubt it,” Dekaras said. ”Not unless he has his actors drive him about in a wheelbarrow to compensate for the gross imbalance and backproblems it would cause.”

”He’ll be expecting us, won’t he?”

”Oh yes,” Jaheira said, not taking her eyes off the house. There was light in some of the windows, but she could see no movement. She was standing with the two rogues just around a streetcorner, scanning the street outside Parsley’s theatre for any sign of threat. So far, all was quiet. _Too quiet?_ ”He sent Zaerini that letter, after all. Even if he has Rose somewhere else, he must know we will come here in search of information.” 

”I hope Rini’ll be ok…that little creep might try to get to her while we’re chasing after Rose.”

”It is possible,” Dekaras said, watching the house as intently as Jaheira was. ”Even likely. But she has the others there to watch her back while we deal with this.” He smiled briefly. ”I know for certain Edwin would rather shave off his beard and wear a dress than let her come to harm. So, we have the front entrance, or the stage entrance to the side. Then there are the windows, and possibly a cellar. Of course, Parsley will have had time to prepare, so no matter what we pick, we should expect trouble.”

”In that case, we may as well go for the front door,” Jaheira decided. ”It will at least make the search a little easier to organize.” She marched up to the door, still ready for an attack, but so far, nothing. The eerie calm persisted as the two rogues carefully examined the door, and then proclaimed it free of traps and unlocked. ”Very well then. Let’s see what we can expect from…aah!” 

The reason for this reaction was the object which had dropped down from the ceiling the moment the druid opened the door and stepped inside the theatre. It was a puppet, or marionette, about the size of a human infant. For the most part, it looked like a clown, complete with white face, red lips twisted into a disturbing grin, and a shock of wild orange hair. The pig’s snout it had instead of a nose made the impression even more unsettling. It had a faded, wilted rose jammed into its mouth. 

”Welcome, guests!” The puppet boomed in a voice far too deep to come from something so small. ”It’s time to play a game.”

”Oh, why don’t I think this is gonna be a nice game…” Imoen said, her eyes quickly darting back and forth. There was nothing obviously threatening that Jaheira could see, just an empty hallway leading deeper into the theatre, with closed doors on both sides.

”You’ve come searching for a little flower,” The puppet said, its deep, metallic voice filled with malicious glee. ”I picked her and put her in a vase, and you have one hour exactly to find her.” Another disturbing chuckle. ”Of course you may have to sacrifice a thing or two in order to get there in time. Some limbs, your sanity…I just found out I’ve got a nasty case of Shephard’s Froggy Crotch, you know, so then it occurred to me I’d torture and maim a few people to make them appreciate life more. Ahaha! AhahahahaHAHA!”

The puppet gave a final warbling croak, and then fell silent. 

”Well, sounds like somebody tossed their brain out and told it never to come back,” Imoen said, carefully poking the puppet. It didn’t speak again, and simply dangled limply from its strings. ”Think the snakes we put in his privy were the final straw?”

”Possibly,” Dekaras mused. ”Though having read a couple of his plays for the sake of research, I’d argue that the man was far gone already. Surely nobody sane could possibly think that ’Her heaving, quivering vistas of nubile dwarven flesh reminded me of a hearty breakfast of ham and eggs’ is anything but the outpourings of a diseased mind.”

”Eeewww!”

”What I’d like to know,” Jaheira mused, ”Is why he thinks he’s infected with a disease that normally only affects goats.” She nodded. ”Well, that and where he has hidden Rose. I suppose we’ll have to search the entire building, preferably without splitting up the party to make the search go faster. No? Good.”

”No traps in this thing,” Dekaras remarked as he turned the puppet over in his hands. ”Let’s see if there’s anything else.” Shortly thereafter the puppet had been meticulously dissected, revealing an odd key. It was in fact two keys in one, attached handle to handle, obviously opening two different locks. There was also writing along the shaft, the two words ’Death’ and ’Life’ marking the respective ends.

”Nice,” Imoen said with a grimace. ”Don’t think I want to use the ’death’ one any time soon.”

”Perhaps,” Dekaras said. ”It could well be a trap. Then again, the trap could also be putting us off so we fear to use them at a crucial moment. Parsley does enjoy his little games, after all.”

”We’d better bring them along,” Jaheira said with a brief sigh. Nasty images flashed briefly across her mind, of dark corridors, horrible devices of torture, the traps, the twisted games…Parsley might not be Irenicus, but she still felt deeply uncomfortable. _I will not fail. Not this time._ ”Just be careful before you use them.”

”Of course.” The assassin padded over to examine the three different closed doors leading out of the entry hall. ”Interesting,” He said, carefully touching one of them. ”There is some form of magical field behind each door.”

”Can you tell what kind?”

”No, they’re in a latent state. I suspect they won’t be for long after we enter, however. Parsley must have hired a wizard or two to help him, he couldn’t have set this up himself.”

”There don’t seem to be any other exits,” Imoen added. ”No trapdoors, no secret passages, I’ve checked it all. We’ll just have to pick a door and hope to get lucky.

”Well, we have no time to waste, and they all look identical,” Jaheira said, stepping over to the middle door. ”We might as well try this one. Objections?” As there were none, she opened the door, making certain to have her weapon ready in case of an ambush. Nothing – the room seemed entirely empty. It was a long hallway, with another door at the far end. No monsters, nothing except dusty gloom. 

”I don’t see any traps,” Imoen said, her eyes scanning the floor in front of them. ”Nothing at all.”

”No,” Dekaras said, following her inside. ”But the magical field is active. I think it’s about to…”

Whatever he’d been about to say was instantly cut off as the door slammed shut and all of the air inside the corridor transformed into murky water. Jaheira floundered for a moment, almost drawing breath before checking herself, then managed to get her bearings. Water everywhere, herself and her companions trapped with no way out. Well, that could be dealt with. Water was a natural element, one that could be friend as well as foe. She hurried to grasp the hands of the two rogues, then let power flow through her and into them as well as herself. _Yes, that will do._ She took a deep breath of relief, making certain they noticed her doing so. The spell would keep them all from drowning at least, though they’d still need to get out somehow. She was just about to start swimming towards the other door as the assassin touched her shoulder, then pointed at something further ahead. A large, yet smooth and elegant shadow, gliding through the water. There was another one, below it, and another. She could see the flat, black eyes now, and the rows of sharp teeth. 

_Sharks. Perfect._

Then there was light in the darkness, beams of bright light crisscrossing the corridor. It came from the sharks, and now she could see that the creatures each had some sort of device attached to its head. Where one of the lights slid across the wall of the corridor, she could see the wood char and shrivel, even under water as it was. 

_Sharks…with death rays attached to their heads? Parsley really must be moving up in the world._

Increase the swim speed, that would help. Unfortunately she didn’t have such a spell memorized. One of the sharks was headed her way, and she raised her staff, rapping it sharply across the nose. The shark faltered, veering off to the side, and Imoen was there, narrowly dodging the flashing beam of light as she pierced a black eye with her short sword. Blood was in the water now, spiraling crimson trails, and the rest of the sharks were getting interested, slowly circling closer and closer. Jaheira twisted around in the water, diving deeper to evade the massive jaws trying to close on her waist. She reached her hand out, grazing cool, slick skin, and a dark green patch started to spread across the beast’s body, the infesting mold slowly choking it. The shark tumbled, swimming in erratic spirals, then drifted limply towards the floor. 

Dekaras, meanwhile, had been slipping behind one of the closer sharks, and was now latching onto its dorsal fin. Instead of attacking it outright, as she had expected, he crept closer to the head though, a twisted coil of metallic rope in his free hand. The shark was agitated, but unable to reach him, and as the rope tangled itself in its mouth it became more agitated yet, bucking and twisting. The assassin seemed to be hanging on though, and he managed to yank the shark’s head to the sharp right. A bright beam of light neatly sliced through two other sharks, and struck the door at the far end of the corridor. 

_Now._ The sharks were more gathered up than before, making themselves a good target, and there no longer were any in immediate danger of eating herself or her friends. Jaheira held out her hands, and the water stirred and rolled forward, a massive wave that swept ahead of her with irresistible force. The remaining sharks tried to fight back, but they stood no chance against her, and they were helplessly smashed against the already weakened door and swept out through it. 

Wooosh. 

Normal sound returned as the water flowed out of the corridor, and she could breathe normally again. There was a heap of sharks flopping about helplessly on the wet floor, incinerating each other with their own magical deathrays, and the air reeked of smoked fish. Soon enough, all movement stopped. As the sharks fell silent, so did the glowing lights on their heads wink out. 

”That…was just strange,” Imoen said, wringing water out of her hair. ”Kinda fun though.”

”It does make one wonder what Parsley will think of next,” Dekaras mused. ”Giant demonic chickens, perhaps.” He flicked a chunk of shark meat off the tip of his dagger. ”Fish, anybody? There’s enough for a full feast here.”

”I’ll save myself for Parsley,” Jaheira replied, baring her teeth in a grim smile. ”I mean to take a few bites out of his hide once we get to him. Let’s see where we go from here, shall we?”

The adventurers found themselves in another empty room, empty apart from the single door leading out of it. After Imoen had disarmed a nasty crossbow trap that would surely have killed anybody it struck, they were able to step through, and as they did, the voice they had previously heard from the puppet boomed from the ceiling.

”You are making progress,” It said, then chuckled nastily. ”If you’ve made it this far, you’ve bypassed my sharks and shut down the clever little devices I outfitted them with. Unfortunately for you, that means those devices are no longer broadcasting the particular frequency which kept the canisters of deadly poison gas hidden within this house secured. As we speak, you are already poisoned, and the only cure for the poison lies ahead, with your pretty little Rose. No magics or antidotes you may possess will save you. If you want to live, then you must proceed. Live or die…the choice is yours.”

”Think he’s telling the truth?” A wide-eyed Imoen asked, turning to Jaheira. 

”I cannot say,” The druid said, focusing inwards. She examined her body, delving deep inside with the powers granted her by Silvanus. ”I cannot sense anything, but if the poison is in its early stages, I might not be able to.” She did cast a cure spell on all of them, just in case, but as far as she could tell it did nothing. 

”Truth or lies, we’d best not take anything he says for granted,” Dekaras said, making a quick grimace of disgust. ”He’s trying to manipulate us.”

”Well then,” Imoen said, placing her hands on her hips, ”Why are we letting him?” She grinned. ”I don’t like his rules. So let’s not follow them any more, huh?”

”What do you mean?”

”Going through the doors is what he expects us to do, right? How about we take a shortcut instead, and see where we end up? These walls look pretty old, doncha think? Jaheira?”

”Oh they do, child, they do,” Jaheira said, feeling a smile of her own spreading across her face. She made her choice, and felt muscles thickening, snout growing, thick fur sprouting across her body. Standing on four solid legs she roared, and her paw bashed the wall, plaster and splinters flying as she cracked it open. She struck again, and again, until there was a hole large enough to comfortably walk through. 

”Yep,” Imoen said, nodding happily. ”Thought that’d work. Bear druids are for fun!”


	172. Patty Cake and Paternity

**Cards Reshuffled 172 – Patty Cake and Paternity**

_Patty Cake, Patty Cake, Actor Man. Bake me a cake as fast as you can. Pat it and prick it and mark it with P, give it to the ogre for baby and me._

_Contemporary Athkatla Children’s Rhyme_

Jaheira had thought that her time in Irenicus’ dungeon had prepared her well for just exactly how twisted people could be. Even so, as she and her companions finally made their way through the last few dark, dingy corridors and into the rotten heart of Ashley Parsley’s demented domain, she had some surprises, none of them pleasant. Here was a corridor paved with crushed glass from beginning to end, there a room where the ceiling dripped scalding water. By the time they got past all that, she had used up the greater portion of her protective spells and was getting to the healing ones. Though she did not mention it to the others, she was beginning to fear that she might run out of healing spells entirely before long. 

_But we have to continue. That madman still has poor Rose, and then there is the matter of the poison._

She still wasn’t sure if Parsley had been telling the truth about subjecting them all to poison gas. None of her spells had shown any sign of poisoning, but she knew all too well that they were not infallible. If the poison was a slow acting one, it might simply be too early. Until they knew for certain Parsley had been lying, they’d better take no chances. 

”Oh yuck!” Imoen said, stopping so suddenly that Jaheira nearly bumped into her. ”That’s just…ew.”

The room they had just entered was small, round, and pink. It looked like an actor’s dressing room, there was a big wardrobe, and a vanity with a large mirror surrounded by dimly glowing glass bulbs. It was the things on the walls which had startled the young rogue however, and as Jaheira took a closer look she was more than a little disturbed herself. Pictures, dozens, possibly hundreds of them. The bodies were all different, all female, and all in various stage costumes, but they all had the same face. It was a sketch, in black and white, but still clearly recognizable. 

”That’s from a wanted poster,” Imoen said in a strangely numb voice. ”Rini was pretty proud of that, she said it showed how much she got under Sarevok’s skin. Parsley must have copied it. But those bodies…”

”I suspect those may be actresses who have performed for him in the past,” Dekaras said, studying the pictures. ”Those costumes are too outlandish to be anything else, surely.” He took a closer look, then blinked. ”Some of them seem to be from very private shows.”

”Too creepy for words! And look, he’s written something all across them in red paint. At least I hope it’s paint.” Imoen squinted at the pictures. ”It says ’patty-cake patty-cake’. Again and again. What does that even mean?”

”Nothing we didn’t already know,” Jaheira said in her firmest voice, as much for her own benefit as for the girl. If she could sound perfectly confident, perhaps the clinging, clammy tendrils of dread would go away. ”The man is utterly insane, and dangerous, and we had better move on now before the time runs out for Rose.”

And move on they did, until they finally reached the end, the last room with no other exit. It was a large, square room, and utterly empty apart from the strange contraption in the middle of the floor. It was a tall glass tube, reaching all the way from the floor to the ceiling. Inside it, tied in a standing position to a metal pole, was Rose. The former courtesan was securely gagged with a thick wad of purple cloth, her eyes filled with utter desperation as she saw the three adventurers enter. 

”Welcome, dear, dear guests!” Parsley’s tinny voice echoed through tin air, followed by a bubbling giggle. Jaheira looked up sharply to see a small hole, covered with a metal griddle, near one corner of the ceiling. Yes, that was definitely where the voice was coming from. ”And well done for making it this far, you must be remarkably persistent. Fond of our dear little flower here, hmm? You can have her back if you want, but there is a catch or two.”

”And here I thought a simple ’please’ would suffice,” Dekaras said. 

If Parsley heard this, his voice betrayed no reaction. It simply went on speaking as before. ”Roses belong in vases, so I’ve placed her in a very charming one. All you have to do is open it with one of the keys I previously supplied you with.”

_Here comes the ’but’._  
”But,” Parsley went on, ”I had to make it more interesting than that of course. Hear that?”

There was a low, rushing sound, and Rose squirmed even more than before, struggling against her bonds. As she did, her feet made a splashing, sloshing sound. 

”Oh no…” Imoen said, her face going pale. 

”I always did overwater my plants,” said Parsley’s cheerful voice, even as Rose kicked in vain against the walls of her prison. ”Don’t even bother with that, dear, that glass is unbreakable. So, dear guests, in five minutes exactly that vase will fill with water. I’m sure you can guess what happens then.”

”What do you want, Parsley?” Jaheira asked. She had to force herself to breathe steadily in order for her voice not to tremble with anger. _Games. Twisted, evil little games. Experiments._

”I want you to choose,” the voice from the ceiling said. ”Death, or life. Remember that’s what the keys were called? Well, it was true. One of them, the ‘life’ one, will open the cage, setting little Rosie free. But sadly, oh so sadly, that will also destroy the antidote you need. The other key, well that will speed the whole process up, so to speak. See that pretty necklace around her pretty white neck?”

Jaheira looked. Yes, there was a smooth, metal collar around Rose’s neck. 

”That little device is monitoring her heartbeat,” Parsley’s smug voice said. ”Once that heartbeat stops, the antidote is yours. All you need to do is…choose. Oh, and don’t think you can just default to inaction either. I want you take part in this, so I’m adding in some extra motivation.”

There was a loud clanging noise as he said this. Jaheira turned around, and it was with a very cold and sinking feeling to her stomach that she noticed the previously open doorway had now been thoroughly covered by a thick, metal door. Even worse, there was a grinding, rumbling noise coming from inside the walls, and yes, the walls were in fact closing in, slowly but steadily. 

“The clock is ticking,” Parsley’s voice chuckled. “I’d love to stay and watch, but I…well, let’s just say I’ve got a certain show to attend. Death or life, noble heroes! Make your choice!” There was final crackle of static, and then he spoke no more. 

-*-

“Beloved, we have no choice in this. For the sake of my family and yours, for the sake of the innocent lives at stake, I must agree to this marriage. As much as it pains me, this is how it much be.”   
“Er…”

“Third line from the bottom,” Zaerini murmured, her eyes fixed on her own script. “Begins with ‘Then we must’.”

“Oh, Minsc found it now! ‘Then we must forever be apart.’”

“Oh no, my love.” The half-elf bard gave the giant ranger a soulful look. She let a hand rest above her heart. “Though we cannot be together, we will never be apart.”

“Just like Minsc and Boo, except the not being together bit!”

“Yes Minsc, just like that. Please stick to the lines though, or I’ll get stuck, and I really need to practice my lines.”

“Horrible romantic slush,” Edwin said as he swept inside the room, twitching the sleeves of his robe disdainfully. “Those two besotted fools ought simply to run away together until they get it out of their systems. (Much as I adore the little imp, I’d rather see her spend her not inconsiderable talents on something that didn’t make my teeth ache.)”

“This is supposed to be True Love, you know,” Rini said. “And the play has action scenes as well, you know that. Anyway, it wouldn’t be very exciting if they just met, fell in love, and then the play ended, would it? Suffering and misery first, tons and tons of it, and then cute stuff at the end.”

“Why is that thuggish swordwaving barbarian reading the lines of Lothario anyway?” Edwin asked, giving Minsc a dark look. “Though I suppose the fact that he can read at all will be enough to pull the crowds in, unless it is the hamster doing it for him.”

“Minsc and Boo are looking after our Witch,” Minsc proclaimed. “No nasty little halflings will get in here.”

“And they’re in here because Haer’Dalis is busy rehearsing some other scenes and you’ve been out there in the theatre, making sure all is in order,” Rini said, stretching and putting the script down on the table next to her yellow plush armchair before she got to her feet. “Everything is in order, right? No sign of Parsley?”

“None,” Her lover proudly proclaimed. “The little pest may have decided to turn tail and run by now, knowing he would have to face my immense magical powers to get to you, but just in case he should somehow manage to get inside I have a large repertoire of considerably painful spells ready and waiting for him.” He came around to stand beside her, putting his arms around her. “He will not touch you, and if he tries, I will make his soul wail in agony for a millennium, bemoaning his explosive exit from this world.”   
His hands gently massaged her shoulders. “Try to relax.”

“Mmm, I will. I’m nervous about tonight though, and then there’s poor Rose. Have you heard from the others yet? Any word?”

“Not yet, no. But they will find her. Focus only on what you need to do.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Rini said, picking up a letter from the table. It was written on high quality parchment, and had a seal portraying a hunting hawk swooping down to strike a fleeing rabbit. “This came for Vadrak a couple of hours ago. Could you pass it on to him when he gets back, please? I’ll be so busy that I’m afraid I might forget.”

Edwin took the letter, studying it curiously, and as he saw the seal the look on his face changed to one of intense focus. “This is from Mother,” He said. “Was there anything for me as well?”

“Well, no, but I suppose there could be a note for you as well inside. It’s not as if I could open it to check.”

“No, no, of course not.” He was still eyeing the letter, turning it over and over in his hands. “I wonder what she could want. This has some very powerful protective spells on it, if the wrong person should open it, it would burst into flames and put a curse of rotting flesh on the intruder.”

“Ouch. Not just writing to check up on you then?”

“I think not. Mother is…well, let’s just say she’s a formidable woman and not one to waste her time. Whatever this is, it will be important. I will pass it on to Teacher Dekaras as soon as he returns, hopefully it won’t be bad news.”

Rini grinned suddenly. “You know, if this were in a play, it’d be a letter telling him he’s inherited a fortune, or is really the heir to the throne, or something like that. You’re sure he doesn’t have any secretly hidden relatives, are you?”

“Positive,” Edwin said in a dry voice, and then reached out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I will let you get back to your practice now, it’s getting late.”

“I guess I’d better do that,” Rini agreed, nodding. “It’s almost showtime.”

-*-

_This is surely a nightmare._ The thought flew through Jaheira’s mind as she stared into Rose’s desperate eyes. It was immediately followed by another one. _No. It is very real. A choice needs to be made, and it needs to be made very quickly._

”We’ve gotta get her out of there!” Imoen’s face was pale, her voice strained. Jaheira could imagine the kind of memories the girl might be reliving right now, the same kind that she was. _Traps. Chains, pain, cages._ ”Maybe…maybe he lied when he said that would destroy the antidote. Maybe he lied about us all being poisoned in the first place.”

”Maybe,” Dekaras said, his eyes rapidly scanning the room, the trap within a trap. The walls creaked and rumbled, edging steadily closer. ”I can’t see it inside the trap, but it could be concealed.” He sounded calm, as he normally did, but something about the way he stood radiated tension. ”This is pure conjecture of course, but I think he was telling the truth about that much at least. He wants us to make that choice of his.”

”The walls,” Jaheira said, not taking her eyes off Rose. The trapped woman struggled against her bonds inside the glass tube, her breathing frantic. _Breathing. Living. Heart beating. The collar around her throat, measuring her heartbeat. And if that heartbeat stops, we go free. If we use the key to let her drown we go free, but it would be too late for her. Her soul will have fled by the time we can get her out. If we release her, the antidote is destroyed. But…what if…_ She turned around. ”Can you two slow them somehow? We have little time to spare.” _I know what to do. My choice. My responsibility._

Dekaras delayed his answer for a few eternally long seconds as he studied the walls and ceiling. Then he nodded. ”Yes. For a little while.” There was a certain look in his eyes, Jaheira thought. Understanding? Yes, probably so. He might not have guessed exactly what she was planning, but he could tell she was planning something. He didn’t ask, though. Instead, he placed a hand on Imoen’s shoulder, and pointed to what to Jaheira looked like any other segment of moving, death-trap metal wall. ”There, Imoen. Do you see? Near the ceiling.”

Imoen squinted, then nodded. ”The crack, opening and shutting. Got it.”

”Yes. The walls move in segments, the segments slide across each other to close the trap. If I boost you, you should be able to get at the mechanism, but you’ll have to be quick about it. If you’re not…”

”I lose a hand,” Imoen said, slightly green in the face. ”And then we all get squished. Gotcha.”

”Quite. Now, tell me what it looks like, and I should be able to help you…”

Vaguely, out of the corner of her eye, Jaheira was aware of Imoen climbing onto the assassin’s shoulders, and beginning her wobbly work at the walltrap. _That will buy us some time. Hopefully enough time for me to do what I have to do._   
She knew the spell she needed to use, a relatively simple one. Even so, she had rarely done anything harder than this. Placing her hands on the glass cage, Jaheira stared into Rose’s eyes, willing the other woman to understand. _I’m so sorry. It’s the only way I can think of._ She gathered the power into herself, then let it flow free like a river. Flowing, gushing, rapidly filling. Jaheira watched, her own throat dry and her eyes aching, as Rose thrashed in her bonds, gurgling and struggling as the water flooded her lungs. She owed it to her to watch. _My choice._ Seconds passed, endlessly long and torturous, and then, at long last, it was over. Rose’s body sagged, limp as a ragdoll, and as it did, the door to the glass tube swung silently open. The walls stopped their grinding approach, and a hatch opened in the ceiling, lowering a small potion bottle. The antidote, unless Parsley was lying. There was no time for that just yet however. Jaheira practically flew to Rose’s side, grasping her by the shoulders, feeling her throat. No pulse, of course. She’d been well and truly drowned. _Silvanus aid me now, and if I fail, then punish me as I deserve._ A second spell, not a healing spell for it was too late for that, but one designed to lure a fleeing soul back, to tether it to its body. She poured all of her willpower into it, forcing it inside the body before her. _Live. Please, live._

”Jaheira?” Imoen’s voice, behind her, trembling a little. ”What’re you doing?”

_What I have to. Always that._

She made herself go on, giving more and more of herself, and finally, there it was. Closed eyelids trembling, pale face twitching. Rose shuddered, coughed, and expelled several mouthfuls of water onto Jaheira’s chest.   
”I’m so sorry,” Jaheira said, gently slapping the other woman’s back to help clear her lungs. ”It was the only thing I could think of that might save us all.”

”I get that,” Rose wheezed, her eyes streaming as she coughed and gasped for air. ”Still want to slap you silly though.”

”That would be only fair,” Jaheira said, unable to entirely hold back a smile. ”Once you are fully recovered.”

”And once we’ve taken care of other business,” Dekaras added, looking across his shoulder to the far side of the room where a door had now opened. ”We do still need to get out of here.”

”And back to Rini,” Imoen said, fiddling with her belt to adjust the short sword hanging from it. ”Parsley didn’t pipe up just now, not a word. If he’s not here and watching us, I bet he’s gone after her. We’ve gotta get back. Who knows what kind of nasty plan’s he cooked up?”

”I don’t know,” Jaheira said as she focused on the vial of supposed antidote, scanning it to make certain it was in fact that and not poison. ”But I would like to force him into a choice or two of his own. A choice between death by blunt or sharp object sounds fair to me, don’t you agree?”

Both the rogues smiled at that, and Rose actually chuckled. ”You’re the one with the resurrection spell,” She said. ”I vote ’both’.”

-*-

The sound of the gathered crowd on the other side of the curtain made Zaerini’s heart beat faster with anticipation. She dared a careful peek outside, marveling at just how full the theatre was. There were a few familiar faces in the crowd too. Why, there was Keldorn and his family, and further back she could spot the Jansen clan. And there, in the front row was…

”An ogre?” She whispered to the wizard standing at her side. ”Eddie, do you think that’s really safe?”

”It did pay for its ticket,” Edwin said after a look through the curtain. ”It seemed very eager, apparently it has been camping on the street outside the theatre for a week in order to get in. Teacher Dekaras suggested I give it a good seat, he said it called itself a ’number one fan’.”

”It seems somehow familiar,” Rini said, frowning. The ogre, whose tiny, shining eyes were glued to the curtain, was wearing a pair of very short leather shorts and little else. There was some kind of writing across its chest, but she couldn’t make it out from this angle. 

”We’ve incinerated a great many wortheless ogres,” Edwin said, his hands gently massaging her shoulders. ”Don’t let it concern you, if it causes any trouble it’ll be dealt with. Now, are you prepared?”

”Yep, think so.” She smiled with sudden amusement. ”Besides, if I forget my lines, Softpaws has the script memorized and will cue me in.”

”Hmph, you likely will end up giving a monologue about pickled mice then. But you will, of course, be superb, a far cry above any of these peons surrounding you.” He bent his head down, his lips meeting hers, and the rush of sudden heat through her body made her heart skip a beat. ”Go out there and dazzle them,” He whispered. As he kissed her again, she felt herself entirely forgetting about every single line, and not in the least inclined to ask her familiar to supply them. 

Having reached the second act, Rini was pretty pleased with herself. She hadn’t fumbled any lines – or at least not any lines major enough that it would be noticeable, and so far the audience seemed to be enjoying the show. They’d laughed at the right places, and she’d even thought she’d heard a few sobs during the heartbreaking farewell scene between herself and the hero at the end of the first act. Keldorn had definitely been fumbling with a big handkerchief at that point. Now it was time for the Great Feast scene, where she was to be confronted by the nefarious villain attempting to force her into accepting his hand in marriage. _Piece of cake. Literally, I guess._

Certainly, as she stepped onto the stage the cake was there, a massive confectionary covered with whipped cream and purple frosting. The music was playing, an absurd little ditty accompanied by a small troupe of dancing halflings hopping about on the benches and even on the table. _So far so good._ For a moment a nasty suspicion entered her mind, but no, there were only the six halflings present and none of them was Ashley Parsley. _Perhaps I was wrong and he won’t actually try anything else. Perhaps he’s given up…_ The crowd was watching her expectantly, but there was an empty seat in the front row. _Hm, wonder where the ogre went? Oh well, can’t win them all I guess._

”To laugh, to sing again, even for a moment,” She began her monologue, addressing a small painted miniature she held in her left hand. ”That time will come, must come, shall come, and you will laugh with me, my love. For now we must both be brave, and mask our tears with false cheer that might fool those who would do us harm.” She let her face shift from sorrow to forced joy, smiling bravely through the pain, and the magic was working, she was there, in that other world, mourning the absence of a lover thought lost forever. ”Now, let us feast!” She cried. ”Friends, the cake is…”

_The cake is…quivering?_

SPLORT

The cake exploded, showering the stage, the actors and the front row audience with whipped cream and frosting. A small figure, covered in whipped cream from head to toe, and brandishing a very sharp carving knife, stepped out of the ruined cake. It was grinning, that much was easily visible despite the partially obscured face. 

”Miss me, my dear?” Ashley Parsley asked. He was pointing the knife at her, of course. He was holding something in his other hand as well, a small device of some sort. ”Don’t you try anything,” Parsley added, ”Or I’ll bring the house down. Literally. There’s a goblin made zigga-ton explositation device in my underpants.” A quick eyebrow-waggle and a quick back and forth thrust of halfling hips. ”Wanna see?”

”Poor Parsley,” Rini said, her mouth speaking entirely independent of her brain which was screaming at her to shut up, now, please. The audience was stirring, murmuring, but at least not panicking yet. ”Figures anything explosive in your pants would just have to be artificial.” _Ok, now I’ve done it, he’ll blow us all up. Bye bye world, it was fun except for the ’chased by archvillains’ bit…_

”That’s not funny!” Parsley screamed, waving the knife again, but mercifully not detonating the bomb. ”You think you’re funny, but you’re not! The theatre is a serious business, and you…you…you just waltz in and try to be funny! You break the immersion with your stupid jokes, you have no respect for me, the great Stage Sage, telling you how you should be doing this!” He gnashed his teeth, spittle flying. ”And to make it worse, all those stupid sheep in the crowd laugh and enjoy it! I told them not to but they won’t listen. And none of the girls want to play Patty Cake with me anymore, not even darling Lulu.”

”Lulu?” Rini asked, unable to help herself. 

”That’d be Lulu the Gnomish Virtual Spouse,” Jan’s voice helpfully piped up from a back row. ”One of my better inventions even if I say so myself, you could barely see the bolts in her neck. Cake probably wouldn’t be good for the gears, mind you.”

”Well, you’ll all play Patty Cake now!” Parsley said, his eyes wild in his cream covered face. ”All of you, forever and ever! And it’s your own fault for not loving me best!”

There was a loud rumble, coming closer. The rumble of very heavy feet, running very fast, towards the stage. ”MEEEEEEEE!” A voice like whisky-soaked gravel shouted. ”Me loves you best! Me picks yummy Parsley Pudding!”

For a very brief moment, the wild glee in Ashley Parsley’s eyes was replaced by recognition, and then by horror. His thumb edged towards the button the detonator, but before he could press it the ogre was upon him, hugging him tightly towards its massive bust and licking the cream from his face with a broad grey tongue which seemed to have tiny mushrooms growing on it. Now that she was closer, Rini could see what the ogre had written on its chest in blocky, childish letters. ’Team Parsley’. ”There be long line to privy,” The ogre explained between kisses. ”But now me be here, and me be your Number One Fan!” 

”No!” Ashley Parsley sputtered, trying in vain to get free. ”Let go of me, you…ack…ugly ogre! I said…no!” The detonator fell from his fingers and rolled across the stage. 

”Clear shot!” Rini shouted, looking towards the balcony. And yes, there was Edwin, looking magnificently infuriated. 

”For you, Parsley, a critique of three simple words, adjusted for your simian intellect,” The Red Wizard said. Then he smirked, raising his hand. ”Flesh to Stone.” A yellow beam shot from his fingers, striking the struggling halfling full in the face, and where it struck, all colour drained away, replaced by solid, grey stone. In a matter of seconds, the surprised ogre was holding a halfling sized statue in its arms, turning it over with a look of baffled sorrow on its face. ”Aww…” It said, sniffling. ”What now?”

”Um…” Rini said, gingerly patting a muscular arm. ”Think about it this way, when he’s like this he won’t be shouting at you or trying to run away from you.”

The ogre mulled this over for few seconds and then smiled brightly. ”Me gets to keep? Forever and ever?”

”Uh, sure. Just promise not to turn him back, ok?”

”Yay!” The ogre jumped to its feet, tenderly stuck the statue under one of its arms, and shook the half-elf’s hand, miraculously not breaking any fingers. ”Me will love him forever and ever, it be just like him deserves!” It jumped off the stage and rumbled towards the exit, oblivious of everything else. 

”Well,” Rini said to herself. ”I guess I agree with you there.” The sound of thunderous applause rising from the audience brought a smile to her face as she took her best bow. 

-*-

”So, the reviews are almost entirely positive,” Edwin said, putting the newssheet down on the table in Zaerini’s dressing room on the day after the premiere. ”They were particularly enthusiastic about the ’riveting special effects’ in Act 2, it seems.”

”Ouch,” Rini said, wincing a little. ”Wonder how we can reproduce that? Maybe Jan could think of something.”

”At least the annoying little gnat Parsley is out of our way, hopefully forever, and we can now focus fully on more important matters without further drama. (Please, dear Gods, no further drama.)”

There was a knock on the door. 

”Oh, what is it now?!” The wizard complained as he went to open it. ”Can one never get a full hour’s worth of uninterrupted erotic onslaught around here…oh, er…Teacher Dekaras?”

”Edwin,” The assassin said, stepping inside the room. ”I have something of importance to discuss with you, unless you are too busy of course.” He was holding a lettter, Zaerini noticed, the one which had arrived the other day. He was looking a little…odd somehow. _Almost nervous. That’s just bizarre and frankly scary._

”Want me to go out for a bit?” She offered. 

”No,” The assassin said after a brief pause. ”You may as well remain, in case of…in case this goes badly.”

”In case what goes badly?” Edwin asked, now sounding deeply concerned. ”Is that the letter from Mother? She’s not ill, is she?”

”No, not at all.”

”Is it Father, then?” Edwin said with a quick grimace. ”Yet another new hobby?”

”Well, yes, and again, no,” Dekaras said. He was actually fidgeting, and he was more pale than usual. ”It would seem that Master Galen Odesseiron took up portal magic some months back, and was eventually successful, after a fashion. So successful that he portaled himself into some unknown dimension, and has been missing ever since. It is possible he may return yet, but given there has been no word from him it seems more unlikely with each passing day.”

”Father…missing? Gone? Forever?” Edwin sounded entirely baffled, and though there was definite relief in his voice he also looked a little guilty. 

”Not…as such,” Dekaras said, and if it hadn’t seemed too utterly impossible Rini would have said he was squirming. ”In light of this…recent development, your Mother insisted that I finally…divulge certain information to you. She was very, very empathetic about it. Now, please understand that it was always my intention to be truthful to you about this at an…an opportune moment. In the fullness of time. At the appropriate junction. Once I was reassured as to your reaction, and that it wouldn’t cause a great calamity. It still may, but she has, you might say, forced my hand.”

Zaerini met her lover’s eyes, and saw utter incomprehension there, much like she was feeling herself. _He’s actually babbling_ , she thought. _Whatever this is, it has to be really bad._

”Teacher Dekaras, I fail to follow you,” Edwin slowly said. ”Are you saying Father isn’t missing?”

”No. Yes. That is to say…” The assassin took a deep breath, looking the wizard straight in the face. ”Edwin, I must admit I cannot think of an appropriate way to tell you this, so please bear with me. Galen Odesseiron is not your father. I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun! And so the truth is out there.


	173. Like Father

**Cards Reshuffled 173 – Like Father**

_Being smart doesn’t mean that you can’t act stupid, it just means that you do it in a far more complicated and elaborate way._

_Excerpt from ’Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

”Come again?” Edwin sounded strangely calm, not shocked or astounded the way Zaerini would have been expecting him to. He had gone quite pale though, and was swaying a little. She hurriedly got to her feet to take his arm, and as she did she could feel him trembling. 

”I said,” Dekaras said in similarly measured tones, ”That I am your father.” He was pale as well, a rather nasty shade with blue overtones. Rini wasn’t sure, but she thought he was shaking a little as well. 

_If they both faint at the same time, can I manage to catch them both? Should I yell for Minsc maybe? Oh Gods, what now…_

”I thought I heard you say…” Edwin muttered, still staring at the assassin as if he’d just seen a ghost. ”But…I don’t understand…why…when…how…”

”I know it must come as a great shock to you,” Dekaras hurried to say. ”I’m afraid I simply couldn’t think of a way to ease you into the idea in a more gentle manner.” He was fiddling nervously with his fingers, pulling at those on one hand with those on the other, almost certainly without being aware of it. ”The least I can do is of course to answer any questions you have, but to start with I must state that I take full responsibility and in no way wish you to blame your mother.”

”Mother?” Edwin echoed, his eyes wide and round like saucers. ”Oh Gods…Mother? She…you…”

”Given the choice, her marriage to Galen Odesseiron would never have taken place,” The assassin said, an old sadness to his voice. ”Regrettably, there were reasons why she was forced to go along with it, a binding marriage contract signed before she and I had got to know each other.” His cheeks had gone pink now rather than white, and he was speaking quite rapidly, nearly stumbling over the words. ”Refusing to follow through with the marriage would have put not merely us, but her family at serious risk. Such a slight to the Odesseiron family would never have gone unpunished. It was not an option. She and I should perhaps have parted then, but we were too much in love for that. We could not bear to be apart.”

”You’re in love with Mother,” Edwin said, very slowly. 

”Ever since the first time I met her and she used a force spell to pin me to the wall for my ’impertinence’,” Dekaras said, a fond smile on his face. 

”What did _you_ do?” 

”A throat chokehold,” Dekaras explained. ”Not enough to damage of course, merely to restrain. She has stated more than once that was what first caught her attention.”

_I can see why it would make an impression_ , Rini thought. _Part of me wants to meet Edwin’s mother, and part of me would rather duel both Sarevok and Irenicus simultaneously._

”And then you were born,” Dekaras went on, not taking his eyes off Edwin’s face. ”I want you to know, and I hope you understand, that I would have wanted nothing more than to have you know the truth from the start.” His voice caught slightly, and he cleared his throat before continuing. ”I have always loved you dearly, as has your Mother. To have you refer to me as ’Father’, even once, would have meant everything to me. But you were a young child, and the danger was too great, should you let the truth slip out. It was impossible. And then time passed, and you grew, and I knew that you would need to be told eventually. That was the important word, ’eventually’. I never could quite seem to bring myself to do it. Your Mother told me that I was, and I quote, ’dithering’. She was right, too. I acted like a fool, and a coward. But you had always been so proud of your ancestry, your long lineage of Odesseiron mages.” He shrugged, briefly looking away. ”Compared to that, what am I?”

”I know,” Edwin said, taking a step closer. ”I know.” Dekaras flinched, as if he had been slapped in the face, but the wizard wasn’t finished. ”I know what you are,” Edwin said, standing close enough now that they were nearly touching. ”You were never a coward. You _were_ a fool, if you’ll excuse me for saying so. And you _are_ my Father. The one I used to dream about and always wished I had.” He opened his arms, and he hugged the stunned assassin close, in an embrace so tight that he seemed to never want to let go. For a few seconds Dekaras didn’t react at all, seemingly paralyzed, but then he reached his own arms out to embrace his son. Rini had to look away at that point, to give them both some privacy, even though she wasn’t sure they were even aware of her presence by then. 

_And to clear my eyes as well._ She dabbed at them with a handkerchief. _Sure beats finding out your father is the God of Murder._

When the bard turned her head again, the two men had stepped out of the embrace, though they were still smiling and looking rather stunned. Their features weren’t identical by any means, in terms of physical appearance she actually suspected that Edwin took more after his mother, but now that she knew what to look for she wondered how she could have missed the similarities.

”Yes, we were considerably relieved that Edwin mostly favours his mother,” Dekaras said, and she felt her cheeks grow hot as she realised she’d spoken out loud. ”Glamour spells might have worked, but would have added an extra complication.” His lips twitched a little as he turned to Edwin again. ”Also, you should consider giving the Gods a few thanks tonight that you didn’t get saddled with my rather obvious nose. Aesthetics aside, that would have been a veritable nightmare to disguise.”

”There’s nothing wrong with your nose!” Edwin immediately and hotly protested. ”Anybody saying otherwise should be prepared for a fireball or three to be sent up their own proboscis.” He sighed, spreading his hands. ”There is so much I want to ask you, so many things I need to know. I don’t even know where to start. (Not that it is such a great suffering, any more than being shut over night in a magical library.)”

”I will be happy to answer anything you wish to know,” Dekaras said. Then his cheeks flushed a little. ”Well, nearly anything. Anything that wouldn’t be inappropriate for me to share.”

”Oh, no, of course nothing like that,” Edwin hastened to say, going a bit red in the face himself. ”Ergh, absolutely not. (Some things are definitely best left unknown.)” He blinked as if he’d suddenly thought of something. ”Does anybody else know? What about Auntie Poppy? She is your closest friend, after all.”

”I’ve never told her, or anybody else,” Dekaras said. He paused, pursing his lips. ”I wouldn’t be surprised if she suspects though. She does know me very well, after all.”

”And no wonder I am such a supremely and stupendously powerful mage, gifted in all the arcane arts,” Edwin rambled on, finally flopping down bonelessly into a chair. ”With the clearly superior heritage of both Mother and yourself I’d….” He suddenly coughed and gave the assassin an apologetic look. ”I’m sorry, Teacher Dek…Father, I mean. I didn’t mean to remind you.”

”That’s all right,” Dekaras said. ”Speaking of that, I might as well explain something else to you. Take out your amulet, please.”

Edwin frowned, but didn’t protest. He pulled the amulet on its gold chain out from around his neck and held it up so that the light of the fire in the fireplace was reflected in its deep red stones. 

”When I gave you that, I told you that it would allow you to access a greater pool of magical power,” Dekaras said, his own eyes fixed on the amulet. ”What I didn’t tell you was how. As you know, though I of course cannot perform the enchantments on my own, the education of a would-be _vremyonni_ of Rasheman is focused on the creation of magical items and I am well versed in the subject. The amulet was constructed with a particular and quite rare form of sympathetic magic. Blood magic, as I’m certain I’ve explained to you before, is powerful and can be used for certain spells and rituals which would not be otherwise possible. This amulet allows you, through our shared blood, to draw upon my own magical energies, which in my crippled state I cannot access.”

”What?” Edwin squeaked, and then broke off into a cough. ”No,” He said once he had caught his breath again. ”That is wrong, you shouldn’t have let me do that! Suppose I harm you further, draining you completely like some vampire or wraith? (Unthinkable, but possible!)” He raised his hand as if to yank the amulet from his neck.

”You will not,” Dekaras said in a perfectly calm voice. ”I know precisely what I’m doing, and I do know my own limits. You might at most cause me some small discomfort, but that is all. No Edwin, I must insist that you keep it.” He cleared his throat briefly. ”It is a relief to me to know that even if I cannot always be by your side, as long as I am still alive I will always be able to aid you. Promise me you will not give it up.”

”I promise,” Edwin said, not sounding very happy about it. ”I do not like it, but if it means that much to you, I promise. And you had better not die any time soon!” His eyes went wide again, and his breathing quickened. ”You’re not ill are you?”

”Not at all,” Dekaras hastened to say. ”And I certainly hope I’m not about to die any time soon, though of course in my line of work you never quite know. I merely want you to be prepared and know what to expect, that is all. Once I do die, or get so close to death that my magical signature is fading from the Weave, you should expect some sort of reaction from the amulet.”

”Reaction? What kind of reaction? And I still want to vocally protest the very idea of you dying!”

”I don’t exactly know, the amulet is a unique artifact after all. I merely want you to be aware of what has taken place in case that happens, so that you needn’t wonder and worry why it is malfunctioning.”

” I needn’t wonder and worry about this trinket, because I’ll be so vastly relieved to know you are DEAD? Do you even hear how that sounds? No, you don’t, do you? That is so utterly, typically, impossibly…” And Edwin broke off into a long string of Thayvian, none of which words Rini could understand, but most of which she suspected wouldn’t normally be used in polite company. Dekaras listened to it all without replying, a faint smile on his lips. 

”I strongly suggest you breathe soon, Edwin,” He eventually said. ”I would ask you if your Mother is aware you know those words, but I suspect you picked most of them up from her, didn’t you?”

”Hmpf,” Edwin said, but he did take a deep breath. ”At any rate, promise me not to go court death. I only just found my father, I don’t want to lose him again.”

”I will do no more than is necessary,” Dekaras said, seemingly unware of how anxious the wizard still was looking. ”Now, my apologies for having upset you. I suggest we find a more pleasant topic of conversation.”

Zaerini chose that moment to slip away, having decided that they could both do with some time on their own now to settle things. Speaking of settling, she needed to settle her own thoughts which were buzzing around inside her head like a hive of angry wasps. 

_I will do a Reading_ , she decided once she had reached her bedroom and was lying sprawled on the bed, her arm curled around a softly purring Softpaws. _It’s been a while now, and we can’t wait much longer before going after Bodhi. Anything that helps me prepare better should be good. No more surprises, even if this was a good one, I guess._

_Humans are strange to make such a fuss over which tom sired a litter_ , Softpaws declared, yawning widely to display her pink tongue. _Cats know how to deal with these things. You go into heat, the toms come, you pick the one you like best and that’s that. When you meet your mate’s mother, you might tell her that._

_Softy, no! Whenever I meet Edwin’s mother I won’t be comparing her to a cat in heat! Humans aren’t cats._

_I know_ , the familiar said with a slight sniff. _It must be a suffering to be inferior. At least you are reasonably sensible, Kitten._

_What, are you saying I go into heat?_ Rini thought about that for a moment, and then swallowed hard as her thoughts turned to her lover. _On second thought, don’t answer that._

_I don’t think I have to_ , came the smug reply. _At any rate, both your mate and his sire carry their tails suitably high, or would if they had tails. You can tell by the way…_

_No! Too much information! Going to do that Reading now. Work, focus, don’t think about tails, actual or hypothetical ones._ She’d been shuffling the deck slowly while she spoke with her familiar, and now she focused her thoughts properly on it, then turning them inwards. _I need to know about Bodhi. If there’s anything special I can do to improve our odds, then show it to me. Show me what I need to know._

She flipped the first card over, and her mind spiraled down into darkness. 

At first, the darkness around her was absolute. Zaerini could see nothing, hear nothing apart from her own heavy breathing and the thudding of her heart. Then light trickled into the world, not from any visible source, but from the Cards themselves. Shapes were rearing up above her, tall and imposing, and she felt her mouth go dry as she watched them. 

The High Priestess and the Devil, paired. Behind them, the Rogue and the Magician, with Death between them. Next, the Heart and the Blood cards. Then, the Tower. At last, the Sun. 

Silently, she walked towards the first two tall shapes. The High Priestess was wearing pristine white robes, with a cowl pulled up to mostly cover her face. Her wings were white as well, rearing up high above her, stirring slightly now and then. As they did, little drops of blood fell to the ground, hissing and steaming. Of the face, Rini could only make out her mouth, which was smiling triumphantly. Next to her, the Devil was standing, female this time, with a lithe, pale body scarcely covered by a black leather harness of sorts. Her wings were black, and leathery, but they also scattered blood as she moved. She turned her head, smiling a smile which wasn’t a smile but a display of sharp fangs. 

”It is time, Child of Bhaal,” the Devil said. ”This meeting has been put off long enough.”

”Tell me something I don’t know, Bodhi,” Rini said, trying to not let her fear show. _She’s not the real thing. She can’t really hurt me._

”Then know this. In triumph, you will find defeat. Your victory will be your loss.”

”You think your ’love’ will make you strong,” the High Priestess added. Her clear, cold voice sounded amused. ”Your ’love’ is what will destroy you, and not just you.” She sneered. ”Love. Friendship. Truth. Loyalty. All are there to be used by me. You yourself will bring me the very weapon needed to destroy my enemy.”

”I won’t!”

”It has already begun,” The Devil chuckled. She licked her lips, pink tongue darting across her fangs. ”It is happening, as we speak. You cannot stop us.”

”You cannot go back.”

”Only one way to go, Child of Bhaal. Forward, to death.”

”Forward, to glorious suffering.”

”Forward, to us.”

”To us, Bhaalspawn.”

The High Priestess and the Devil both laughed, triumphant laughter echoing in her ears, and they faded away even as she lunged for them, hot anger overtaking the dread. Where they had stood there was nothing but cold mist, curling around her ankles.   
_Forward. Have to go forward._

The Magician and the Rogue watched her silently, twice as tall as in real life, but their red and black cloaks would have marked them for who they were if she hadn’t guessed already. Between them the Death card loomed, a pale and robed spectre, with an eternal smile on its skeletal face. 

”Tell me what’s going on, guys,” Zaerini said, panic tightening her voice. ”I’m not sure what it all means yet, but it’s looking bad. Please tell me what you can. Please tell me you’re not both going to die.”

”All men must die,” The Rogue said with a small sigh. ”Sometimes, death is the easier path to walk.”

”If that was meant to be a comfort, it’s not working, just so you know!” Rini pointed her finger accusingly at the two men before her. ”Come on, tell me something that’ll help us. There must be something.”

”A choice must be made,” The Magician said, his eyes filled with sorrow. ”Should even one of us three falter when that darkest hour is upon us, then we shall all fall.”

”Eddie? Eddie, talk to me, please. What choice? When?” She knew that fear was making her voice shrill, but she couldn’t help herself.

”Too soon,” The Rogue responded. Shadows were crawling up his form, enveloping him, hiding him from sight. ”It is already beginning.”

”There can be no life without death,” The Magician said. Flames were crackling around him, shrouding him, but she could still hear his voice. ”Remember that. Remember, love.”

”Wait! No, don’t go! Don’t leave me here! Edwin, don’t go!” Rini shouted. It was too late, they were already gone, shadows and flame fading even as the words left her mouth. Only a lingering whisper of their mixed voices remained. _Remember…and make the right choice._

She walked on, tears streaming down her face, shoulders shaking. There was nothing else to do. No turning back, it was far too late for that. She had to go on, had to see. 

The Heart was hanging in the air before her, huge, red and throbbing, with pulsing veins covering its surface. Streams of Blood flowed around it, but there was an odd sparkle to the deep red fluid, something alien.

”What are you?” Zaerini asked, not really expecting a reply. 

”I am what must be destroyed,” The Heart said with a deep, melodious voice. ”I am what must be preserved.”

”Great, that cleared that up then.” The half-elf looked at the blood flowing around her feet. The thick, warm fluid was nearly up to her knees now, and yes, there was definitely something odd about it. _Blood, but not just blood. Something else is there._

”I am the connection,” A voice whispered from out of the stream. ”I am the path and the key.”

”I am the centre,” The Heart said. ”I must drive us on.”

”I am the lifeline,” The Blood spoke. ”I must steady us.”

”Two will enter,” They both spoke in unison. ”Three may leave, if you remember our words.”

_Remember them, fine. Getting them, not so much._

”Remember us well,” The Heart and the Blood said together, and their voices sounded different now, somehow. One male, one female, and familiar, but she couldn’t make them out when they were speaking at once. ”Reach the Tower, and our words will become clear.”

_The Tower. A symbol of destruction and calamity._ Zaerini took a long, shuddering breath. _Like I needed more bad omens._ She walked on, even so. There was nothing else to be done. The Tower loomed above her, dark and foreboding. There was a single light, a window high above her, and she could make out shapes moving inside. Their shadows looked…odd. Not human, and not pleasant. She walked towards the door, trying to make as little noise as possible. The door was closed, and didn’t want to budge, but there was something else. A symbol burnt into the door with fire. It reminded her a little of claws, twitching and twisted, burrowing into the wood. _I’ve seen that somewhere, but where? Candlekeep…in some old book. But what is it? And I think I’ve seen it somewhere else too, but more recently._

”What are you?” She asked out loud, and by now she didn’t care that her voice was trembling.

The stones groaned, the wood creaked, and voices whispered from inside the Tower. 

”We are the maggot in the ripe carcass, the hand behind the thrones, the whisper in the dark and the ancient enemy.”

”Oh that’s great. I haven’t got enough of those yet.”

”Only fools would seek us out, or the truly desperate. Yet seek us out you must, if you wish to triumph.”

”But I…”

The voices in the Tower fell silent, but there was another voice now, coming from high above. The Sun was rising, warm and beautiful, and she could look straight into it without getting blinded. There was a shape there, it looked like a person, and though she couldn’t see it very clearly she thought the person was smiling. 

”Remember, Child of Bhaal,” The Sun spoke, and this voice definitely sounded familiar. ”It is darkest before the dawn, and one single voice of hope may banish despair. Follow the path set before you, and we may yet meet. I have not forgotten, and neither should you.”

”But I don’t know what to do! I’ve listened to you all, and I still haven’t a clue what to do.”

”You do. The knowledge is there, waiting to be used. Now awaken, Child of Bhaal. It has begun.” 

The darkness was receding, being shredded into black dust which spiraled up, whirling around her. She was floating, drifting upwards, towards warmth, towards the Sun. She was so close, she could almost touch it. 

_Kitten! Kitten, you must wake up!_

Zaerini blinked, staring into the frantic eyes of her familiar. She was on her bed, in her room at the Five Flagons, and Softpaws was sitting on her chest, batting at her face with a paw. There hadn’t been any claws, but the feeling of panic slipping across the familiar bond told her they weren’t far off. 

_Softy? What’s wrong?_

_You’ve been out of it for hours, none of us could wake you, not even me._

_Well I’m fine, see? No harm done._

But the black cat wasn’t calming down, and the sense of panic and desperation was only growing stronger. _There’s something else, isn’t there?_

_Oh Kitten…I’m so sorry._

The bard sat up, her head spinning and throbbing, little flashes of white light drifting across her vision. She and her familiar weren’t alone in the room, she could see that now. There was a tiny creature huddled on her lap, clinging desperately to the hem of her shirt with leathery little hands. ”Insufferable?” She croaked, reaching out her fingers to touch the small monkey. He simply whimpered, and clutched her shirt even tighter, as if he never wanted to let go. ”What are you doing here…where’s…” And now the icy panic didn’t belong to her familiar alone, it was her own, crawling up her spine, digging into her belly. ”Where’s Edwin?”

She knew, knew even as she heard the monkey howl with pain and grief, knew it as Softpaws pressed her head against her hand. She’d been warned already, hadn’t she? Warned that she would be too late to stop it. 

_He’s gone_ , Softpaws said, her mental voice anguished. _None of us can find him anywhere, he’s been missing for hours now. Insufferable says…says he’s been taken. Taken into darkness. Kitten, he’s hurt. Badly hurt._

Slowly, as if in a dream, Zaerini stood, gently cradling the sobbing monkey against her chest as she stroked his small, hard head with a trembling finger. 

”So,” She said. ”It’s begun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had looked forward to writing this chapter for a very long time, and I hope it's still an enjoyable read!


	174. Pawn and Players

**Cards Reshuffled 174 – Pawn and Players**

_Know the ways of magic well, know the ways of pain. Know weapon skills if you are wise, but foremost, know the hearts of men._

_Tenets of Loviatar_

It was dark. Why was it so dark? Edwin blinked, trying to clear his vision, but it didn’t work. All he accomplished was making his head spin violently and causing a thick nausea to rise in the back of his throat. Throat…yes, there was definitely something amiss there, a burning, sharp pain which made him decide against further head movement for now. 

_Where am I? What happened?_

The first question turned out trickier to answer than the wizard would have expected. He was lying on a cold, hard surface, certainly nothing which measured up to his standards when it came to resting places. There was a marked absence of fluffy pillows, thick mattresses or soft sheets. It was wet too, he could feel moisture seeping into his robes and making him shiver. 

_Well isn’t that just perfect. I’ll probably catch a cold, perhaps pneumonia, and my best robes will get nasty stains. Somebody is going to be made to pay for this._

It then occurred to him that being stuck in a cold, hard, dark and wet place with no idea where he was and how he’d got there might mean worse trouble than bedrest and a few healing spells. How had he got here anyway? Wincing slightly as his head throbbed, Edwin tried to think back to what he last remembered. The theatre, yes, the annoying halfling finally dealt with, and then after that…

_Oh! Teacher Dekaras. He told me…was that really true, or did I merely dream it?_ It certainly felt real, yes, and even though it was a favourite and often repeated daydream of his ever since early childhood, he actually thought that this time, maybe it was more than that. _Father. Yes. It is true, I know it is. It feels right._ Temporarily unaware of the cold, the dark, the pain and his own predicament, Edwin smiled, a broad and genuinely happy smile. _All this time, and I never guessed. Or…did part of me guess, I wonder? I think so, yes. I think part of me always knew._

There had been a very long and very private conversation after that, yes, he could remember it now. He’d been able to ask all sorts of questions, and have them answered, but perhaps even more important than that he’d been able to talk to his father as his father, for the first time in his life. _I always knew I was important to him, of course. I’m not sure if he ever knew how important he always was to me. I must make certain he understands it, now._

First, though, there was the whole ’cold, dark place’ matter to attend to. Edwin closed his eyes, trying to think, but it was surprisingly hard. He felt…weak, as if he’d been ill for a long time. His neck was definitely hurting too. _Fleas or mosquitoes I shouldn’t wonder. Nasty Westerner inns, no proper spells in place to keep the vermin out._ So. After a lengthy conversation, he’d been ready to head to bed. _Actually, I believe he told me I should go to bed before I ’fell flat on my face’._ Only, he hadn’t gone straight to bed, had he? He’d been too excited still, giddy with delight, and had decided he needed some air. Just a very short walk, to the nearest streetlight and back. No need to ask for company, really. He could remember it now, the mist rising up from the sea, crawling along the ground, the slick cobblestones of the street and the sharp and salty air filling his lungs. It had been silent, for Athkatla. Only his own footsteps, until he reached the streetlight and turned around. He had seen something then, or rather felt it, a dark shape somewhere above him and the soft flutter of wings. _No…I don’t want to remember. Not this._ He’d turned around, prepared for an attack, and then…nothing. There was a blank hole in his mind, as if somebody had simply shut it off at this point. And now he was here, in what seemed to be a very bad place indeed. Apart from the cold, dark and hard impressions, it was also cramped. He could feel stone on both sides of him, and as he reached his hand out, testing his surroundings, he was dismayed to feel stone above as well. Quite close above, in fact. Not a mere cave. A container of some sort.

And now there was a scraping noise, and the stone above him was moving aside. There was light, pale and yellow, a narrow crack at first which grew wider and wider. He tried to move again, to sit up, to prepare himself to blast the person who had put him here to smithereens, but his limbs refused to obey him properly and the beating of his own heart sounded like a loud drum in his ears. Then, there was a face above him, looking down. It was a corpse-pale face, with the high cheekbones and long, tapering ears of an elf, with short black hair and dark eyes. That wasn’t what most occupied Edwin’s attention, however. Rather, he found himself staring at the woman’s red, red mouth, and the needle-sharp fangs she bared as she smiled at him. There was a cold, musty smell around her, of dirt and rot, and of old blood. 

_Bodhi._

The pain in his neck made a very unpleasant sort of sense now, much as he wished otherwise. He must be drained already, perhaps dangerously so. For all he knew, the blood he was smelling might be his own.

_And then she put me in a sarcophagus to finish off later, as if I were some sort of tasty late night snack._

The extremely nasty thought occurred to him that yes, that was probably exactly what Bodhi viewed him as. Even worse, in his weakened state he knew he was unable to defend himself properly. He certainly couldn’t move the way he needed in order to cast any spells, assuming he even had his spell components left, and he wasn’t entirely certain if he was able to speak.

_Well, that hypothesis ought to be easy enough to test._

”Happy to see me, little wizard?” Bodhi purred. ”Or were you expecting somebody else?”

”Why yes,” Edwin said, happy to note that at least he was still able to talk back, even if his voice sounded rather croaky and weak. ”I was rather hoping for a kiss of life from an enticing and alluring female, so being slobbered over by a bucktoothed animated corpse comes as something of a disappointment if you must know.”

”Feisty,” Bodhi said, her smile never slipping. ”I was told to expect that. The ones who struggle are ever so much more entertaining, aren’t they, my dear?” She hauled him up by the scruff of his neck, easily picking him out of the stone sarcophagus. His body flopped about uselessly, and her claws dug into his flesh, making him wince with pain. 

”He was always an ill-mannered little brat,” A second, cool voice said from behind Bodhi’s shoulder, a horribly familiar one which made Edwin’s heart sink with dread. ”But he will serve his purpose well.” Aerie stepped forward, a faint smile on her face, her blue eyes narrowing as she focused on the prone wizard.

_I am in so much trouble now._

Bodhi was holding him with one arm only, but that arm was as strong as steel bars, and he couldn’t so much as stir. Her other hand roamed freely and teasingly across his body and yes, oh yes, she definitely knew what she was doing. Her touch was insidious, intensely desirable and yet revolting at the same time. He could feel his body tensing against restraint, muscles trembling and breath quickening.

”Must you play with your food like that?” Aerie asked. She sounded mildly curious, with a hint of distaste. 

”It adds to the flavour,” Bodhi replied, her claws lightly scratching his chest, just barely avoiding tearing the skin. You’ll get to play your own game soon enough, but for now I want my fun.”

_No. Do not feel, do not think of it. Stay calm. This isn’t important. They will come for you. Remember that._

They would, of course they would. He knew it as surely as he knew that the sun was hot, water wet and blood red. 

_No, don’t think about blood._

They would come, that was the important thing, the thought he had to hold onto. Bodhi’s cold lips were grazing his neck now, silky soft and smooth, and her fangs were prickling his skin. It hurt, but only briefly, and then he gasped as heat gathered at his throat, pulsing and throbbing. It was pain, but it was also ecstasy, and he struggled to keep his scattering thoughts together as the world spun around him. 

_They will come. I know they will. Father has always come for me. My Hellkitten would never let me go._

The darkness was gathering as sight abandoned him and the rushing of blood grew fainter and fainter. He could see shapes in the darkness, moving fast. A small cat, the colour of fire, eyes glowing. A great black wolf, running like the wind, fangs bared. Both of them rushing along heedlessly, heading for him. Shadows and flame were spinning around them in a vortex of power and purpose.

_They will come._

”Yes, little one,” a voice whispered into his ear. ”Of course they will. That is the whole point of the plan, after all.”

_No…no, please…_

”Oh, they will come,” A second voice spoke, some distance away and he could hear rather than see the sneer. ”Love. Such a great weakness, it will serve admirably to draw them here, in haste and at a disadvantage.”

_No! I refuse to be bait!_

He was cold now, very cold, and he couldn’t feel his body anymore. It felt as if it were far away, his connection to it dwindling second by second. Then, there was a new sensation. Heat against his lips, drops of liquid fire trickling into his parched throat. It was spreading, burning him from the inside out, and yet he couldn’t help craving more of it. Teeth and lips locked on the source of the warmth, sucking desperately, and the warmth was moving through him, restoring him. Changing him. He knew what was happening now. 

_Please no, don’t let them come, don’t let them come!_

It was too late to stop, impossible to hold back, and the fire had reached his brain by now, enflaming it, engulfing him. Edwin gasped, a final, shuddering breath, and then breathed no more.

”Not just bait, my little one,” Bodhi said, stroking the wizard’s cold, still face. ”Far, far more than that. Soon, very soon, you will see.” She licked her lips, cleaning them of blood, and turned to her companion. ”Are you prepared?”

For a moment, Aerie looked at the still form the vampire was holding, her small rosebud of a mouth smiling softly. ”I have been preparing for this day for quite some time now,” She said. ”It has been a long game, but it is time for it to end.”

The Vampire Queen laughed, her skin flushed with the infusion of fresh blood. ”Come then. Let us prepare to greet our guests. They should be arriving shortly.” 

-*-

”Now remember, as we go inside, let Minsc or myself take point,” Jaheira said, her voice firm even for her. ”I know you want to charge in there and get Edwin out, believe me when I say that I know how you feel, but you must try to keep in control of your actions. You know what I mean, don’t you?”

”Yes, I know, I know,” Zaerini said, not taking her eyes off the dark tunnel ahead of her, leading deep under the graveyard. It smelled cold, and damp. Above her, the tall tombs and monuments were black silhouettes against a sky tinged grey with the first hint of dawn.’”So, we got it all?”

”We have a generous supply of sharp stakes in various sizes,” Dekaras said, testing the edge of one with his finger. ”I also brought as many explosive potions as I could get my hands on, and holy water of course. Now, let’s waste no further time.” 

”Are you two even listening to me?! I’m telling you both to be careful, or you’re likely to blunder headfirst into something you won’t be able to weasel out of.” Jaheira grasped Zaerini by the hand, her fingers feeling cold to the touch. ”Remember Khalid. After that I…I was not entirely in control of myself. Please, take care.”

_Khalid is dead. Edwin isn’t. He can’t be. I’d have known, wouldn’t I?_

”She is right,” Anomen said. ”After Moira’s death I might well have brought complete ruin down upon myself. I implore you, my friends, let the wisdom of the Watcher guide you and be cautious.”

_Moira is dead. But Edwin isn’t. Insufferable was hurting too much to talk but Softy said she could get that much out of him at least. I wish Softy could have come with us, but he needed her. Maybe if she keeps him safe, maybe Edwin will be all right then._

”I haven’t got the time to be cautious,” Dekaras snapped. He sounded entirely unlike his normal calm self, and Rini thought she could see his fingers trembling as he tucked an extremely sharp stake away into a hipsheath. ”I wouldn’t have waited even until dawn, given the choice. If you lot hadn’t seen fit to bar the door and put a berserker on watch below the window I’d have been here hours ago.”

”The blood of Rasheman is hot,” Minsc said, nodding sagely, earning himself a rather exasperated look from the assassin. ”And Minsc’s Witch is much the same, but berserking is best when there are lots of squishy foes around, not hidden sneaky ones. Boo says I must be an example to you both and show how to do it right.”

_Getting advice on how to keep our tempers from Minsc. That’s when you know you’re in a bad state and about to snap, I guess._

”We’ll find him, Rini,” Imoen said, squeezing the half-elf’s hand tightly. ”At least it’s daylight outside now, so the vampires will be weaker. We’ll make it, you’ll see.”

”Of course,” Rini said. ”Can we go now, before we all gather moss?” Ignoring the calls for her to hold back she plunged into the tunnel, barely resisting the urge to yell out an angry challenge to Bodhi and all her undead followers. _No, that wouldn’t be smart. Not at all._

As cold as the air of the tunnel had been at first, it wasn’t long before Zaerini no longer felt it. She and her companions steadily made their way through the long, sprawling tunnels leading deeper and deeper underground, and before long they came upon their first vampires. These were mere fledglings, with no more than a small part of Bodhi’s powers, but their deadly teeth and claws still had to be avoided, and after the combat was over she was already feeling quite warm. ”Which way from here?” She asked, wiping her forehead. The vampire lair was large, with corridors leading off in several directions and no obvious way of knowing where to head next. It seemed old as well, with ancient murals covering the walls, and statues depicting odd creatures with animal heads on human bodies, and occasionally the other way around. The room they were currently standing in was dominated by a large table surrounded by many highbacked chairs. It looked like a dining table, but surely vampires wouldn’t sit down for a formal dinner?

_No. Don’t think about what vampires eat. Don’t. If you don’t think about it, maybe it won’t happen._

”Unless Bodhi has redecorated since I was last here, her private chambers ought to be in that direction, past the baths,” Dekaras said, nodding at one of the tunnels. ”Of course we cannot know if Edwin is held there or elsewhere, but it seems a likely place to start looking.” He finished decapitating one of the slain vampires and then yanked the stake out of its chest, nimbly avoiding most of the spurting blood. ”Good for one more,” He muttered, then stood. ”We need to hurry. There may not have been an audible alarm, but Bodhi misses little of what goes on in her lair. If she wasn’t expecting us before, she will be now.”

And hurry they did, moving as swiftly as they dared through dark tunnels, so narrow that two people could barely walk side by side in there. It was definitely getting warmer now, and Rini didn’t think it was just from her having been in combat. The warmth seemed to be emanating from the end of the tunnel, where she could see a doorway, outlined in red light.

”Silvanus protect us,” Jaheira whispered, nearly gagging. ”That smell…it’s…”

The smell was strong, yes. Strong, thick, meaty and very, very red. Rini swallowed hard, trying to keep her composure. The worst thing was that it wasn’t just nausea affecting her. Part of her, the part she was trying as hard as she could to hold back, was reveling in that smell, growling and hissing with hunger. No. Mustn’t. If I go Slayer in here, I’ll kill them all. She swallowed again, and her mouth was watering, she thought she was nearly drooling. _No!_

There was a small hand holding her own, cold but steady, and she didn’t need to turn around to know her sister’s presence. She clung to that presence, focusing on it, ignoring the delicious, lovely smell as best she could. As she entered Bodhi’s bathhouse she kept her eyes on Imoen as much as possible, catching only glimpses of her surroundings. Big marble tubs, sunk into the floor on either side of her. Tubs filled not with water, but with blood, fresh and warm. So much blood, from so many people. There were…bits of the people as well, scattered carelessly on the floor. She stepped on something soft and slippery, and deliberately didn’t look down to see what it was. Somewhere behind her, she heard retching, but she didn’t turn around. _Find Edwin. Save Edwin. That’s what’s important._

”In Helm’s name, why? Why this?” Anomen said, his voice thick. 

”Because they can,” Dekaras said, stepping around a puddle on the floor where one of the tubs had overflowed. ”Also, Bodhi finds it refreshing. The preservation spell on the tubs keeps the blood fresh longer than one might think.” He studied the tubs for a minute or so, and then nodded briefly. ”No sign of any device one might breathe through. That rules that out, then.”

”That rules what out?” Rini asked, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer. 

”Aerie would enjoy hiding Edwin in plain sight, where we could walk right past him even as he lay dying,” The assassin said. ”For example, under that blood. She would think that amusing.”

”Well, once we catch up with her and Bodhi, I’ll amuse myself playing ’connect-the-dots’ with their kidneys, seeing they like dismemberment so much,” Rini said, in what she was shocked to hear sounded uncomfortably like a deep growl. Her skin was prickling and her teeth felt a little pointier than before, didn’t they? _No! Don’t let go, not now, not yet!_

”No,” Dekaras said, and he sounded suddenly very odd as well, almost as if he was listening to somebody else speaking. ”That cannot be, the proposal is…” He paused, and shook his head briefly. ”What was that? Did I say something?”

”Are you quite all right?” Jaheira asked, stepping forward. 

”As well as can be expected under the circumstances,” Dekaras replied as if nothing had happened. ”But it worries me that we have encountered so few vampires, and fairly weak ones at that.”

”Why?” Imoen asked. ”I mean, isn’t that a good thing?”

”Normally, yes. But in here, it means that the older, stronger vampires are hidden somewhere, waiting.”

”Oh. Not such a good thing then. Um, waiting where?” 

Behind Zaerini’s back, there was a faint slurping sound, just about warning enough for her to start turning around before a pair of strong, white arms grabbed her by the throat, yanking her back. Her head spun as claws scratched her light elven chainmail and something cold and clammy latched onto her throat. _Lips. Vampire lips. Ewww!_ Lashing out as best as she could she could feel her fist connecting with something hard which crunched as she hit it. _Nose, I think._ Around her there were sounds of combat as her friends attacked the group of vampires hidden in the bathtubs. Weapons were striking undead flesh, spells were being cast. She didn’t have time to take in much of what was going on though, for the vampire who had seized her was once again trying to get to her throat and she could feel herself weakening, her arms and legs almost too heavy to move. _Claws. Scratched me. Can’t move._ But maybe she could, maybe if she could call on the Slayer just long enough to get free, maybe she could control it…

There was a frustrated whimper next to her ear, and the sound of fangs cracking against a hard surface. _Funny, didn’t think the Slayer made my skin hard…I didn’t change yet, did I? So hard to think._

”I have her shielded!” Anomen shouted, somewhere to her right. ”Take it out before the spell fades!”

A splash of fluid against her face, but still no pain, and it felt too cold to be blood. The vampires’s whimper turned into a howl of pain, accompanied by a loud hissing, and now the claws let go of her, letting her drop limply to the ground like a ragdoll. She landed on the floor, her cheek in a very nasty puddle while somewhere above her the screams turned into an inarticulate moan and then faded altogether. 

”Gods, Rini, are you alive?!” Imoen was by her side, turning her over. She looked healthy at least, not even scratched. Just really worried, for some reason. 

_Think I’ll just stay here and rest for a bit. No. Can’t. Edwin. Gotta save Edwin._

”One good thing about being a Bhaalspawn,” She croaked, trying and failing to sit up. ”You can always tell.’S long as I don’t turn to dust like Sarevok, I’m prob’ly ok.”

”That can be discussed,” Jaheira interrupted, pushing Imoen aside. ”Now don’t talk, you’re dangerously weakened by that thing and I need to restore some of your energy.” Blue light shone between the fingers she rested gently on the half-elf’s chest, and once the spell faded the tense look on her face relaxed slightly. ”There. That’s the worst harm fixed, at least.”

”Thanks,” Rini said, finally managing to sit up. She wiped as much old blood and gore off her face as she could, and noticed as she did so that there was something else as well, dry and flaky bits of…something. It reminded her a bit of rotting treebark, or perhaps old and dried out fungus of some kind. It even smelled a bit like old mushrooms. ”Um…guys? Is that bits of vampire I’ve got all over me?”

”My apologies,” Dekaras said, not sounding very sorry at all. He was sitting down as well, leaning against another one of the tubs, and his skin was an unpleasant grey colour. ”Hareishan was an old vampire, and I must admit the holy water affected her rather more strongly than I had expected. I do wish I’d anticipated that ambush, I should have remembered that vampires don’t need to breathe.”

”Eh, no harm done, not as if the rest of us thought of it either. How many were there?”

”A full eight of the slimiest two-legged leeches ever to pierce the tender skin of innocent Witches!” Minsc proudly proclaimed. ”Ah, but what a glorious battle it was, my sword was like the scythe of the reaper at harvest-time, and the evil vampires fell like wheat, or maybe corn depending on what you’d like to bake with them.”

”That’s great Minsc, but I think we’ll skip the baking if that’s ok with you.” She turned to Jaheira again. ”Injuries?”

”Mostly minor ones,” The druid said, helping her get to her feet. She could stand, that was a relief, even if her legs didn’t feel entirely steady. ”Most of them went after you and Vadrak, in fact. It seemed deliberate, on their part. Anomen and myself have done what we can, but you both really ought to get some rest before we go on. Vampire claws are quite debilitating.”

”Can’t,” Rini said. She shook her head, and then wished she hadn’t as it made the room spin and her vision go blurry. ”Gotta save Edwin. Don’t have time.”

”I am perfectly capable of proceeding,” Dekaras said at the same time. He had managed to get to his feet by now, and was standing perfectly still in what Rini thought was a very deliberately steady and immobile manner. ”There is no time for further delays.”

Jaheira’s lips tightened a little, and then she nodded. ”As you wish. But if either of you drops, I’m having Minsc carry you out whether you like it or not. Edwin wouldn’t thank you, or me, for letting you get yourselves killed.”

”Jaheira,” Zaerini said. ”We need to go. Please?” She thought she heard the druid sigh, but then she nodded and stood aside. Yes, it was time to go, the hunt was on, and no time to lose. For a moment, her vision went dark, and she grabbed hold of the marble edge of the bathtub, hoping Jaheira wouldn’t comment on it. But it wasn’t entirely dark, was it? She could see shapes moving, running through the darkness. Familiar shapes. _I’ve seen this before. The red cat, the black wolf, running with darkness all around. Hunting. I know what it means now, for all the good it does me.But how did it end? I can’t remember._ It didn’t matter. She had to go on, they had to go on, no matter what. ”I’m coming, Eddie,” She muttered, more to herself than to her companions, and she made herself walk on, as fast as she could. ”We’re coming. Almost there now.”. 

There were traps on the way, nasty traps, and there were more vampires as well. Those were dealt with somehow, but afterwards Zaerini could remember little of how. It was as if she was only partially present, and the rest of her was tucked into the red cat, running faster and faster into darkness, her heart pounding and her breath burning in her throat. And then, finally, a door, and it was the last one, the very last one. She stepped inside, one single thought burning bright inside her mind. 

_We’re here now, Eddie. We’re here. Everything will be all right. Everything. I promise._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to worry. As bad as things seem right now, they can still get much, much worse!


	175. Fire and Ice

**Cards Reshuffled 175 – Fire and Ice**

_There are those who enjoy pushing other people, who love driving them across the edge. But what they tend to forget is that if you push somebody into the Abyss, sometimes they come back, changed._

_Excerpt from ’Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

”Hello, pets,” Bodhi said, baring her fangs in a smile. The Vampire Queen was casually perched on top of a large coffin standing on a dais at the far side of the room. Now and then she kicked her legs against the side of it, much like a little girl might do when bored. ”So sweet of you to come to visit.”

”You know why we’re here!” That was Imoen, already readying her bow and aiming it at Bodhi’s heart. 

”Oh, it’s the spare!” Bodhi said, an amused glint in her eyes. ”I suppose you want your soul back, don’t you? Too bad, I found it and I’m going to keep it. I haven’t had this much fun in…far too long.”

”You’ve had your fun,” Zaerini said, not taking her eyes off the vampire’s face. Bodhi should have been beautiful, with her elegant, symmetrical features, her thick black hair and pale skin barely concealed by the collection of leather straps serving as her outfit. Yet, somehow, she wasn’t. _She’s a walking corpse. Well preserved, but if there ever was anything left of her after she turned vampire, I think it’s long gone by now. All she has, all she is, is what she’s stolen._ There were other vampires too, male and female, standing near their Mistress, their pale faces illuminated by the firepit in the center of the floor as well as by the candles flickering around the walls. What she could not see though, was her lover. _Or Aerie. She has to be here, but where?_ ”Now listen to me, you bitch,” She said, showing her own teeth. ”You’ll return Edwin to us, and Imoen’s soul as well. If you do, you can keep that stupid Lanthorn, for all I care.” She ignored the gasps of surprise coming from behind her. _What use is a soul to me if I don’t have him?_ ”But if you don’t, then I’ll give your moldering corpse such a beating that all the maggots currently infesting it will flee screaming out through the most conveniently open bodily orifice, and then I’ll take them on a tour through the rest of your body by stuffing them down your throat. Am I making myself clear, here?”

”Such manners,” Bodhi purred. ”You must have picked it up off your little wizard. He was much the same, before I taught him how to address his betters.” She licked her lips. ”I taught him lots of things you probably never even dreamed of. Special, intimate things. Perhaps he’ll share them with you, if I allow it. I wouldn’t mind watching that.” She leapt down from the coffin, landing lightly on the ground, then lifted the lid. ”Come out then, little one. Come out and play.” 

_Edwin._

Skin pale as parchment, sunken eyes glittering with terrible hunger, previously impeccably manicured nails grown into claws stained with blood. The mouth was opening, the mouth she had kissed not that long ago, revealing the sharp fangs. 

_Edwin. No, no, no. This isn’t right. This can’t be right. This can’t be!_

”Oh, don’t you worry, he still remembers you,” Bodhi said, smirking. ”Of course the special delights he’s known in my embrace surpass your own fumblings, but he remembers you. Tell her, little one.”

Bloodless lips moving, and his voice, his voice was the same, but roughened with pain and grief. ”I am…sorry. So sorry. You shouldn’t have come. Mistress Bodhi commands me now.”

”That’s a good boy,” Bodhi said, stroking the undead wizard’s cheek and neck. ”And your Mistress commands you to…oh.” She looked down at the crossbow bolt embedded in her chest with a small grimace of pain, then yanked it free. Dark blood flowed freely for a few moments, then slowed to a mere trickle. ”Silver, is it? Not bad, but not enough either, not to kill me.”

”You’re already dead,” Dekaras said, his face a mask of icy rage. ”You simply haven’t understood it yet.”

”Enough talk!” Bodhi seemed to be growing taller as she spoke, her muscles tensing as she flexed her claws. ”Children, keep them busy!” She turned to Edwin who still stood motionless at her side. ”And you! You have your orders. Carry them out.”

”Kill her.” Aerie’s voice, and the Avariel appeared on Edwin’s other side, the air shimmering as the spell which had kept her concealed faded. ”Make her suffer.”

_She was here the whole time, hiding under a sanctuary spell. But what was she doing while Bodhi kept us busy talking?_

Then there was no more time to talk, or to think, as it seemed all the fury of the Nine Hells broke out around her. She went for her bow first, hoping to get a few shots off before the vampires closed in on her, but managed only one before she found herself staring at a fireball the size of her head, speeding through the air towards her. Dropping the bow, she cast a spell of her own, and her skin tingled as the protective shield flared up. The fireball exploded, and she saw her friends hastening to leap or roll out of the way, but she felt only a mild warmth, the spell making her temporarily immune. _Won’t last long though._

A vampire leapt through the air towards her, and she dodged. Claws screeched against steel and there was a loud thud as the creature struck the shield Anomen held up for her protection. The cleric made his own move, and a powerful blow hit the vampire in the chest, sending it back reeling. It wasn’t bleeding though, nor was it looking nearly as hurt as it should have been. 

”She’s got them protected from our weapons!” Rini yelled, scrambling to get out of the way and draw the second fireball towards herself rather than her friends. ”Aerie set it up while she was hidden!”

There was a gargling scream somewhere behind her, and she snapped around to see one of the vampires crumbling lifeless to the floor, a stake protruding from its chest. 

”Only magical ones,” Dekaras answered her, hurrying to pull the stake out even as he dodged the claws of a second vampire. ”Try to…” Then he broke off as he was wracked with a violent spasm of pain which knotted up all his muscles and drove him to his knees. 

”Too clever for your own good,” Aerie mused, strengthening the spell further. ”But not clever enough.” She sent a spray of Magic Missiles out with a wave of her arm, forcing an infuriated Jaheira back towards the rest of the group, and then pointed at Edwin. ”When Bodhi turns a fledgling, she gains access to their heart and soul. We learned all sorts of interesting things.” She smiled. ”Edwin, Bodhi has ordered you to obey me. Draw upon your full power, and then go beyond your own limits just the way you’ve always wanted to. I’m sure your _father_ won’t mind helping you.” 

_No. Oh no._ Rini tried to edge closer to Edwin, to tackle him before things could get even worse, but it was already too late. The vampire mage was fairly glowing with magical energies, and he was gathering more, more than she would have thought was possible. _The amulet._ She turned to see Dekaras give a quiet groan of pain, and then sag to the floor, utterly limp. She couldn’t see if he was still breathing and didn’t have time to check. Edwins fingers were trailing blue fire and he was drawing symbols in the air, chanting the words of a spell as he did so. The runes he had drawn were glowing, moving, coming together into a horribly familiar shape. _A gate._ And now there was a black shape inside the gate, growing more solid, more real by the second. It was tall and muscular, with curling horns and rapidly unfurling wings, and when those wings stirred, they spread liquid darkness around them. The demon turned towards Zaerini, handling its large, flaming sword as if it were a toothpick, and as she backed all the way up against the wall she couldn’t help thinking about how proud her Edwin would have been to conjure something like that.

At the other end of the room, the battle was raging still. Anomen spoke a single word of power, and there was a bright flash of light, so bright that she had to closer her eyes for a second. When she opened them again, many of the vampires were gone, with only some small piles of ash left behind to show they had ever been there. Minsc and Jaheira were facing off against Bodhi herself, fighting bravely but with difficulty. The Vampire Queen was stronger than her children, and she moved almost too quickly for mortals to counter, using the deadly claws and teeth which could make even a small wound fatal. Imoen was standing by the fallen Dekaras, firing arrows at Aerie with a look of grim determination on her face. They weren’t enough to seriously injure the elf, they mostly bounced off her magical shields, but they did distract and annoy her. 

The demon was advancing, there was nowhere to run, no way she could hope to fight it. _The Slayer. Maybe I can…_ But it was too late, the huge fist already had her by the throat, raising her off the ground, throttling her. She couldn’t breathe, she could barely see past the swirling, glowing motes of dust spinning before her eyes. _Dust. Sarevok turned to dust._ Somewhere, somehow, not with her eyes but with her mind, she could see a large room, filled with many statues. There were men, elves, orcs, and many other creatures, some too strange to describe. Some were broken, cracked and ruined. One of them bore her own face, and as she watched, she could see the tiny cracks beginning to form.

”Put her down, then return whence you came. She is mine.” It was a familiar, beloved voice, and even as she was thrown down and the wind was knocked out of her, making her unable to speak, she hoped. She hoped that maybe, somehow, he could resist Bodhi, fight free of her domination. It was a futile hope. Edwin was gathering her into his arms, into what felt almost like a tender embrace, but he was tilting her head back, baring her throat. He was so strong, far stronger than a mortal, and she couldn’t break free. She could only look into his eyes, and see the deep sorrow there, sorrow without hope. 

”Dread Wizard,” Zaerini whispered, not taking her eyes off his face, wanting it to be the last thing she saw. 

”Hellkitten. Forgive me, please.”

There was another voice, a light and mocking one, interrupting. ”How very touching,” Aerie said. ”But wait a moment, Edwin, don’t kill her just yet. This is such a sweet death-scene, I wouldn’t want anybody important to miss out on it.” Her voice rose as she chanted a spell, a healing one this time, and then she spoke again. ”Much better. Now, my old adversary, I’ve healed you enough that you might sit up and enjoy the show, but not enough to spoil it. Your turn will come after the Bhaalspawn, of course. Killing the two of you will utterly destroy our little wizard, I think. It should be amusing to watch. ”

”Father,” Edwin murmured, and now there was hope in his eyes, a horrible hope mixed with the sadness, and she understood, she understood everything. She had seen it. _Should even one of us three falter, we will all fall. They told me in my Reading, but I didn’t understand. I do know._

Edwin turned his head, his grip on her loosening a little, and he called out, his voice filled with desperation. ”Father! Please!”

_One._

She twisted aside, not enough to break free, she couldn’t manage that, but enough to clear the line of sight, to offer an open path. It had to be subtle, she couldn’t struggle openly, or Bodhi’s compulsion would force him to stop her, but she managed.

_Two. Oh, Edwin._

A pocket of silence in the midst of the clamour of the battle, and she feared it would be too much, entirely too much to ask. Then, she felt her lover’s body shudder with the shock of sudden impact. She heard him give a soft sigh before she saw the blood spurting from his mouth, before she felt it splattering warm against her face. She felt his arms give way and release her. She saw the sharp stake, impaling his chest. A perfect hit, a clean kill, the stake had been thrown with lethal precision, straight into the heart. 

_Three. Gods, have mercy on us. Have mercy on us all._

Struggling to sit up, forcing herself not to think, not to understand what she had done, what had happened, she looked straight at Dekaras. The assassin was nearly as pale as a vampire himself, and his eyes looked far more lifeless. He still had his hand raised, as if it had frozen in place after the throw and his face also seemed frozen, immobile. 

”Oh, how delightful,” Aerie said, smiling. ”I wasn’t certain you’d be able to do it, so I’d have settled for him killing the two of you, but this is by far the most satisfying outcome. I suppose it’s true what they always said about you, that you were capable of killing anybody, but your own son? For shame.” She gave a quick laugh, and it sounded like ice cubes falling onto an undertaker’s marble worktable. ”Game over.”

Laughter, cold and taunting, rang in Zaerini’s ears, grating like a rusty nail piercing a fresh wound. Aerie’s laughter, light and amused, pitiless as a snowstorm. Bodhi’s laughter, deeper and suggesting stirrings of deep excitement at the torment she had caused. Gently, so very gently, the half-elf settled the body of her lover down on the floor. He mustn’t be hurt any further, that was important. 

_They’ve taken everything. First, my soul. Now, my heart. There is nothing left, nothing._

She got to her feet, turning to look at Dekaras who was still sitting motionless, as if he had died himself. He met her eyes, but she saw nothing there, except blankness. 

_They must pay._

Laughter, still the laughter, enflaming her senses, a focus for the rage and hatred. Mocking, cruel laughter, telling her exactly what would happen now. 

_Yes, little sister_ , a voice whispered inside her head. _You know what to do. Show them both. Show them the meaning of true fear._ Zaerini smiled, a wild, crazy smile. She could still feel Edwin’s warm blood on her face, still smell it, and the wildfire was running through her veins, too late to stop even had she wanted to. ”Boy, are you stupid,” She told the vampire and the elf. ”Don’t you get it? He was keeping me sane, keeping me grounded. And now…” She could already feel her muscles growing stronger, body expanding. Deadly teeth and claws, larger than Bodhi’s, fur sprouting, reflexes quickening to unnatural speed. ”Now,” The Slayer growled in the last moments before the red mist descended before her eyes and speech fled her altogether, ”Now, you’ve set me free.”

She went for Aerie first, being the closest prey, but before she could reach the elf Bodhi fell upon her, snarling and hissing. They were equally matched in strength and speed, and as they struggled body to body she knew that it would be a good fight, a good death. The vampire’s claws lashed out and she dodged low, her jaws closing around cold, dead flesh and then tearing. It tasted wrong, it was too stale and didn’t smell right, and that enraged her further. Her own claws descended, easily bypassing the silly straps and ripping the soft belly open. Flopping, dangling things spilled out, making the floor slippery, nearly tripping her up. It wouldn’t do, the dead thing was still moving, still fighting, and when its claws scratched her she felt herself weakening. She dove to the floor, dragging it down with her, kicking and biting, narrowly avoiding its teeth latching onto her throat. _Yes, good fight!_ A second attack, and this time the dead thing did manage to tear her throat. She hissed, clawing at its face, but it had a tight grip and wouldn’t let go, even when she pierced an eye, making it come free of its socket and run down the ruined face. A blow to the throat next, and this time she got free, circling her opponent warily. The dead thing was badly hurt, but still moving, and she could see some of the wounds closing up already. That was all right though, that meant she could hurt it again and again before finally killing it, but too many times and it would get boring. Boring wouldn’t do. And she was hurt as well, she could feel that some of the blood in her fur was her own as well, and that she wasn’t moving as fast as before. One of her ears felt all wrong, as if it was about to come off, and she didn’t like that at all. Better stop playing now and kill the dead thing fast, instead. 

-*-

Hands. Such clever appendages, perfectly formed and capable of so many various tasks. Eating, writing, climbing, grasping. Cradling and protecting an infant. Killing. Always that, of course. Dekaras stared at his outstretched hands as if he had never seen them before, memorizing every aspect of them. This was very, very important, because it was a distraction from…something he definitely needed distracting from and didn’t care to remember right now. He was dimly aware of sounds of battle in the background, and of what sounded like two very large and angry cats trying to tear each other apart, but that wasn’t important. Hands were important, and what they could do. Killing, above all. _It is what I do. It is what I am. It is all that I am. I should never have hoped for more._

An annoyed voice interrupted his contemplation, sharp in his ears like the noises of an angry bird. ”Oh no, you don’t get to escape that easily. You will know, you will remember everything, and that I made it happen. Do you understand me? You will!” 

Magic, healing magic washing over him, washing away the protective numbness of the shock, forcing him to see, forcing him to remember. _The stake. Edwin._ He gasped with pain as his mind turned to cold, clear ice, making him relive every single second of it, making him see every drop of blood in perfect clarity. Then, suddenly, the pain was somewhere far behind, and only the comforting coldness remained, frozen perfection and certainty. _Aerie. Yes. Time to end this._ He got to his feet, distantly aware of the fact that spells were being hurled at him, spells which were probably causing a great deal of damage. The pain was far away, unimportant and unable to affect him and as he walked slowly closer he saw the elf’s blue eyes widening with surprise and sudden concern at his lack of reaction. She was so used to relying on pain, this must be a new experience for her. She was speaking now, but the words were unimportant as well. He had a job to do, and he fully intended to do it well. He could feel his body faltering, weakening, but it would last long enough, yes. That was the important thing, the only important thing in the world. He coughed, and there was warm blood in his mouth. Not important. It was getting harder to breathe, and his heart was racing, his vision failing. Not important either. He had his hands around the elf’s throat now, and spellcasting was ever so much more difficult when you couldn’t speak, now wasn’t it? Yes, surely it was. Hands were important, and what they could do. Killing, above all. Always that. _It is what I do. It is what I am._ He squeezed. 

-*-

The dead thing was definitely slowing down now, getting more sluggish and clumsy. The Slayer could smell its fear, the cold, stale fear of a creature not used to such emotions. It smelled delicious. She wanted to lap that fear up, drink it fresh from the corpse. But there was one thing better than fear, the best thing of all, the thing she needed, the thing she wanted above all else. Easily batting aside her foe’s weakening limbs as the dead thing tried to defend itself, she was on top of it now, with it flat on the ground underneath her, and its thrashing could hurt her no longer. The Slayer’s jaws closed on its foe, her claws dug deeply into undead flesh, and when the moment of death came, she let the energy wash over her, and she howled with triumph and despair as the memories came rushing back. 

”Rini? Rini, please wake up! Please!” 

There was the sensation of heat and wetness against her face, and every muscle in her body groaned in agony as she tried to move. Zaerini opened her eyes to see double visions of Imoen’s tearstreaked face floating above her. 

”Rini, can you understand me? Do you know who I am?”

She tried to nod, but that hurt too much. ”Bodhi,” She croaked, her voice hoarse and raspy. Her throat was definitely hurting, yes. ”Did I…”

”Yeah. You…well…she’s definitely a goner. Dead as a pile of doornails.” The younger girl smiled tentatively. ”I’ve got my soul back. But Rini, Edwin, he’s…” 

_Edwin._

Somebody was holding her now, strong arms pulling her into a tight embrace even as the first sobs tore themselves free. 

”Minsc is so sorry,” The berserker was saying as he patted her head and stroked her hair. ”Minsc won’t call the Wizard Evil anymore, for he died a true Hero, making sure to keep Minsc’s Witch safe.”

Imoen was crying as well, holding one of her hands between her own. ”Oh Rini. Anomen and Jaheira, they can’t bring him back. They say…it’s a huge longshot even with a human, and for a vampire, it’s just not gonna work. I’m so, so sorry.”

She refused to look at the body at the other end of the room. She didn’t think she could take it, not just yet. She turned her head instead, to see Anomen and Jaheira both hunched down on either side of Dekaras. The assassin was propped up against the coffin standing on the central dais, his eyes closed and his face a corpselike pale. Anomen was supporting him by the shoulders even as Jaheira was casting a healing spell, her hands poised just above his chest. From the strained look on the druid’s face, it wasn’t a minor spell. 

”There,” Jaheira, finally said, wiping her forehead. ”That takes care of the internal bleeding. Do you have the broken bones covered?”

”Aye,” Anomen replied. ”All settled. But Jaheira, there are anomalies within his mind which concern me. Do you think…”

”My mind,” Dekaras said as he opened his eyes, ”Need not worry you.” He rubbed his temples with the palms of his hands as if he was having a migraine, then wiped off the blood which had trickled out of his mouth. ”I thank you both for the healing, but there really is no need for further concern.”

”No need for concern?!” Jaheria spat out, grabbing him by the shoulder. ”Are you completely….do you even _know_ how badly injured you were?” Then she checked herself, her voice turning very gentle. ”Vadrak, do you remember what happened?”

”Yes,” Dekaras said, sounding perfectly composed. ”Of course I do. I was forced to kill Edwin, I’m hardly likely to forget that any time soon.”

”Yes,” Jaheira said, staring closely at the assassin. ”Do you…”

”What is done is done,” He said, still in that horribly calm voice. ”And Aerie, did I kill her?”

”Er, no,” Anomen replied. With a jerk of his head he indicated the elf, who was lying very still on the floor, unconscious, gagged and carefully tied up. The pale skin of her throat was marred with the stark bruises left by implacable fingers. ”It was close, but she is still alive.”

”Very good. Under the circumstances it was rather difficult to judge the pressure as closely as I might have wished.” He smiled briefly, and stood, swaying only a little on his feet. ”I was afraid I might have killed her by accident, but now I am free to proceed to properly neutralize her.” He bent down to pick Aerie up, then slung her across his shoulders with some difficulty, staggering slightly under the sudden weight. ”I remember what he explained now, you see. So many options, but I know exactly what to do. It will be perfect.”

”What who explained?” Jaheira demanded. ”Where do you think you are going? Why am I even asking, you’re in _no_ state to go anywhere, even with healing, and if you want her dead she can be killed right here and now.”

”Killing her would be a kindness,” Dekaras patiently explained, and he smiled again. ”I have a far better idea, and I have a right to do as I will with her. Is that not so?”

”It is so,” Minsc agreed, though he frowned with worry. ”It is a blood debt, which must be paid, a blood debt of close kin is very strong. But even for Evil Witches there are limits.”

”Yes,” Anomen said, and he cleared his throat. ”I do understand, believe me. After Moira’s death, I wanted to…hurt whoever had hurt her. But the Watcher does not approve of torture, you know this.”

”I will not torture her,” Dekaras snapped, but the unnatural calm descended upon him again almost immediately. ”I intend justice, and only justice. But I will also not explain myself further.” He turned around, looking Zaerini in the eyes, and nodded. ”You though…you also have the right. You loved him and he loved you. This is a family matter, and if you will, you may come.” He turned around and started walking slowly towards the tunnels. 

”Rini,” Imoen whispered into the half-elf’s ear. ”Maybe if we talk to him together, he’ll listen. Don’t do this.”

”I’m sorry Immy,” She said, giving her sister a quick hug. ”And I’m so glad you’ve got your soul back. Really. But this is something I’ve got to do. Will you…will you take care of Edwin for us? Until we get back?”  
Imoen nodded mutely, new tears in her eyes. ”Yes. ’Course I will. Just be careful, ok? Try to look after each other, and don’t do anything too stupid?”

”I promise,” Zaerini said, and with a final nod to her friends, she followed the departing assassin into darkness.


	176. An Unusual Mind

**Cards Reshuffled 176 – An Unusual Mind**

_Some people like to say that revenge solves nothing, that it can’t fix what’s been broken. Maybe that’s true, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be hugely satisfying to break something else in turn._

_Excerpt from ’Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

”That Slayer form certainly is impressively destructive,” Dekaras said in conversational tones, the first thing he had said since they had left the rest of the group behind and entered the tunnels surrounding Bodhi’s lair. He stepped inside a small alcove and passed his hand along the wall until there was a faint click and a hidden doorway opened. Zaerni peered inside, but could see nothing but darkness. ”Your control over it has increased?”

”A bit,” Zaerini agreed, trailing after the tall assassin as he entered the narrow passageway. Talking felt good, even if it wasn’t the happiest subject. Talking meant distraction from thinking of what had just happened. ”But it wears me out. It’d be dangerous to keep it up for too long, or use it too often.”

”I see.” He nodded. ”No, we wouldn’t want you to overdo it, of course. Even so, I just wanted to let you know that you handled Bodhi very well. You did what was necessary and didn’t falter.” He ducked under a lowhanging beam. It bumped Aerie on the head and the unconscious Avariel groaned behind her gag. ”A very important quality in a person, I find.”

”Um, thanks, I guess,” Rini said. The heartache and grief, the overwhelming weariness and the various aches and pains were now being crowded by a growing sense of unease. _He killed Edwin so that Edwin wouldn’t have to kill me. He wouldn’t…kill me over it, would he? But he’s acting strange, and we’re all alone down here, not counting Aerie._ ”So,” She said, hoping to turn the conversation elsewhere, ”I wanted to say thanks. You did something to Bodhi, didn’t you? With the crossbow bolt, I mean. I could tell she was tiring faster than she ought to have done.”

”Oh, that,” Dekaras said in a slightly absent voice as if his mind was elsewhere. He still didn’t turn around to look at her. ”It had several barbs, laced with a mixture of garlic and holy water. When Bodhi tore it out she broke them off, and they would have migrated inward, poisoning her slowly. I’m glad it was of some assistance, but you would undoubtedly have taken her down anyway.”

”Maybe. Not as fast though, and maybe I’d have been more hurt than I was.” She paused, then dared to ask another question. ”Where are we going? What are these tunnels anyway, they don’t seem to belong to the vampires.” She sniffed the air, then wrinkled her nose. ”Smells like sewers.”

”That, my dear girl, is because it is the sewers.” The assassin pushed another secret panel aside, then stepped out into a far larger tunnel. She followed suit, and yes, now she could hear running water, and her footsteps were echoing in a way she recognized. Dekaras turned around for the first time, flashing her a bright, quick smile across his shoulder. ”All the best adventures take place in sewers, didn’t you know that? You should be savouring the experience.”

”Aha. Yep, sure. Sewers, gotta love them.” She tried to smile back, but thought it came out rather shaky. _Did I say acting strange? Scratch that and make it acting awfully strange._ ”You didn’t answer my question.” _Gods, what if he’s gone completely nuts and is planning to…to kill me and eat my brain or something?_

”No, I didn’t, did I? I thought you would enjoy it more as a surprise.” He turned around again, looking honestly concerned. ”Edwin did tell me a lot of things about you, I hope you don’t mind my saying so, but I got the impression you liked surprises.”

”Uh…maybe. It’s just – it’s just been kind of a rough day, you know. So, I’m just hoping this surprise won’t involve anything like, say, a fight to the death or something like that.”

A humanoid figure, tightly wrapped in a grey cloak, stepped out of the shadows in front of them. ”That won’t be necessary, unless you choose to make it so,” It said. Its voice was low, but still very clear, and she got the odd impression that it was speaking inside her head rather than into her ears. ”So, you chose to accept my offer,” It said, turning to Dekaras. ”I am pleased. But why bring this girl along?”

”It will be educational for her,” The assassin said. He unceremoniously dropped Aerie onto the floor, and nudged her with one foot. The elf started stirring, then made muffled noises of protest from behind her gag as her eyes opened and she discovered her predicament. ”Zaerini, this is the one called ’The Hidden’. I believe you know of him already.”

”The one who helped cure little Jaella, Lissa’s daughter,” Rini slowly said. ”I remember, but...I don’t understand.” She peered at the cloaked figure, trying to see it better. Then it pushed back the cowl of its cloak, and she staggered backwards with a choked off curse. ”That’s a mindflayer! Why are we standing in a sewer talking with a mindflayer?! There’d better be a really good reason why we’re standing in a sewer talking with a mindflayer!”

”To settle a mutually beneficial agreement,” Dekaras said, turning Aerie over onto her back. ”Allow me to explain. You see, a while back I found myself in a spot of difficulty. I had, as you know, been infiltrating Bodhi’s lair, but found myself revealed by our painloving friend here. I would undoubtedly have been tortured to death, or at least to insanity, if not for the Hidden’s intervention.” He smiled down at the prone elf. ”I suppose you must have been quite vexed at my sudden disappearance, weren’t you? The Hidden brought me out of there, thus saving my life. Not out of charity of course, but it seems you had managed to annoy him previously.”

”She and I had a deal,” The mindflayer stated. ”She decided to discard that deal. She should not have done that.”

”He made me a proposal,” Dekaras said, still smiling. It was a pleased smile, but there was something wrong with it, as if it were about to crack at the edges at any moment and it didn’t reach his eyes. ”Not an order, you understand. Merely an offer. Then he made me forget all about it, until just now. Once I had…once Aerie was incapacited, and I was able to act on it, I remembered everything. It is a perfectly agreeable offer, and one I’m inclined to accept.”

”What are you going to do?” Rini asked, looking from the mindflayer to the struggling elf on the ground. She was trying to break free of her bonds, but it was quite impossible, and the noises she was making were beginning to sound quite fearful. A cold anticipation filled the bard’s heart, and she saw it reflected in the assassin’s black eyes. _Oh, this is going to be a nice surprise I think._

”Her mind is very interesting,” The Hidden said, bending down to run a long finger along Aerie’s temple. ”All that duality, the hidden layers, all the carefully constructed personalities. As she has chosen to renege on our deal, I intend to claim my payment in another manner. I wish to study her. In return for giving me this opportunity, you may choose the avenue of my research.”

”You already know what I want,” Dekaras said. ”You have seen it in my thoughts.” He hunched down by Aerie’s side, tilting her head up so that she was forced to look him in the eyes. ”You will not be killed, much as you might want to beg me for it. You will not be harmed, or at least not by me. You will simply be neutralized. For the first time, and for the rest of your life, you will be exactly what you appear to be, as the mask you have worn so many times will be in charge of your very soul. You will be extremely innocent, naive and helpless. You will be sweet, and eager to please. You will want only to help people, to the best of your capacity. You will not be able to harm a fly, and should somebody else do so, you will shed tears over it. You will, perhaps, frolic in meadows with birds and kittens and daisies.” He bent a little closer, and something in his smile made Zaerini think of fangs. ”And all the time, for the rest of your life, the real you will be an unwilling passenger, a helpless prisoner trapped inside your skull, unable to do a single thing but stew in unending misery. I hope you live for a very long time indeed, and that you keep your sanity, enough of it to remember that _I_ was the one who created your own personal hell and left you to rot in it.” He let go of Aerie’s head, wiping his fingers on the filthy ground with a look of disgust. ”You never should have touched Edwin.”

Aerie was screaming behind her gag, her eyes wide and filled with terror, but then she suddenly gave a soft sigh and relaxed. She looked asleep, resting peacefully on the cold stone floor, and if there was a part of her that was anything but peaceful, there was no way to see it. 

”It is done,” The Hidden said. ”The alteration is permanent, exactly as you specified it, and can not be undone, even by me or my kin. It will hold, for as long as she lives, and our agreement is completed. A very interesting case study. My colleagues will be fascinated. Do you wish to dispose of her yourself, or shall I do it?”

”I have no further interest in her,” Dekaras said, his voice now tired, as if all the energy had left his body. He staggered slightly sideways, like a puppet whose strings had been suddenly cut. ”Leave her in the streets somewhere, to whatever fate may befall her. She no longer concerns us.”

”As you wish.” The mindflayer paused for a moment, then bowed. ”I bid you farewell then. As I said, it has been _very_ interesting interacting with you. I always enjoy unusual minds. Perhaps we will meet again.” It untied the Avariel, then snapped its fingers, and Aerie stood, her eyes still closed and her face blank. She obediently followed the Hidden, walking daintily through the puddles and grime of the sewers. Finally, she turned around the corner, and with a flicker of her white robes, she was gone.

”We should leave this place,” Dekaras said, breaking the heavy silence. ”You have been recently wounded, and you have been through a lot. The air down here will not improve things. It was remiss of me not to consider that.”

”That’s all right,” Rini said, her voice thick with emotion. ”It was a lovely surprise. I think maybe I don’t want to go back to the others just yet though. I don’t think I can. Can we go somewhere else first? Just to rest a bit.”

He nodded, taking her hand, and as his fingers folded around hers they felt eerily like Edwins. _Almost as if he were still here. Almost._ She followed as he led her through a few more sewer tunnels, and finally up a metal ladder and into the streets of the Bridge District. There, the exhausted pair made their way down to the water, until they finally found a good spot to rest. It was dark again, they’d been down in the tunnels for a long time, and the day had come and gone. But that was fine, the dark was restful, soothing, and there were no vampires here. They sat down, their backs against the wall of one of the small wooden houses crowded up along the bridge, and for a while they simply sat in silence, side by side.

”I am sorry,” Dekaras finally said. ”So very sorry.” He tentatively placed his arm around her shoulders, and when she didn’t push it away he pulled her a little closer. 

”Me too,” She said, and she could feel his muscles quivering with tension, even as the first hot, wet tears trailed down her face. ”Really, really sorry.” She swallowed hard, barely able to speak. ”He’s not coming back, ever, and I miss him so much. It’s not fair.”

”No. No, it’s not fair,” He said, and his voice sounded as hoarse as her own. ”Not fair at all.”

She wanted to say more, but the words wouldn’t come out, and instead she simply buried her face against his shoulder, letting the tears out instead. It hurt, it hurt a lot, but it was needed. She hugged him tightly, taking comfort in his presence and in his arms around her, hoping to give some of the same comfort in return. Though she never heard him make a sound, now and again she could feel his body shaking with a silent spasm of grief. And so they both stayed, until the sun once again slowly rose over Athkatla, bringing the dawn as if this were a day like any other. 

-*-

”I guess we’d better get back to the others,” Zaerini said. She sighed and looked up. The sun was climbing higher in the sky now, and contrary to popular belief not every horror would go away in daylight. She could feel how deathly tired she was now, her muscles screamed in protest as she slowly got to her feet and her head was pounding. That was nothing though, compared to the hurt inside her soul. _This is the first day I have to face with him dead. The first, but not the last. The first of many._

”I suppose so,” Dekaras said in a listless voice. He was looking as exhausted as she felt, and he was staring at the water below the great Bridge as if he was looking for the meaning of life among the murky waves and failing to find it.

”Funny, really,” Rini said. She gave a brief laugh that was half a sob. ”I never thought it’d turn out like this. The last Reading I did was horrible, but somehow, despite everything I thought there’d be a way to fix things.”

”I know the feeling,” The assassin said. ”I’ve always…managed to fix things for him. Until now. I failed him.”

”No,” Rini said, shaking her head. ”You did what you had to do. What he asked you to do. I heard him. He knew what he was asking for.” She half turned around to wipe her eyes, and then spotted something out of the corner of her eye that made her pause and stare at the simple and unassuming wooden door of the building right behind her. There was a symbol burnt into the wood, right above the keyhole, a symbol she knew she’d seen before. A gnarled, twisted symbol, looking like two ’3’ numericals next to each other, with the prongs turned downwars so that they resembled claws. ”I know this,” She stated, curiosity at least temporarily overcoming her grief. ”I’ve seen this before, in my Reading, the last one I did before Edwin was taken. It was on the door of the Tower, I remember it now!”

”I’d be hard pressed to call this a tower,” Dekaras said, getting to his feet. Certainly the house was anything but impressive, it was a tiny shack with its few broken windows boarded up and a partially broken roof. 

”I know, I know, but it means something important, I know it does! The Tower is always a bad place, but the Sun told me that I had to come here.”

”The sun told you that you had to come here. Well, that settles everything. I feel so relieved now. ”

”Yes! And the Heart and the Blood did too, they said reach the Tower and our words will become clear.” She bent down to examine the symbol more closely. ”I need to work it all out, don’t you see?”

”What you need,” Dekaras said as he gently placed a hand on her shoulder, ”Is to come with me back to the Five Flagons and lie down for a bit, preferably with one of the healers in attendance. I really must insist upon it. You’ve been through a great ordeal, and you need to rest and recover.”

”No, no, no, can’t do that,” The half-elf said, feverishly intent as she focused upon the symbol. ”There’s something here…a magical resonance. I’ll just poke it a little eensy bit with a trigger spell, see if I can make something happen.”

”Hold on,” Dekaras sharply said, now close enough to see what she was looking at. ”That’s not just any scribbled symbol, that’s the symbol of…”

WOOOSH!

The teleportation temporarily made Rini feel as if her stomach had dislodged itself and jumped into her nose. The world seemed to melt and swirl around her, and when it became solid again she was someplace new. She was in a corridor with a dark, shiny marble floor, inlaid with the symbol she had seen on the door. There were elegant silver candesticks along the walls. There weren’t any candles in them though, but little balls of glowing magic light, and she could feel more magic in the air, the residue of very powerful spells. There was no sign of the little wooden shack. Unfortunately, there was also no sign of the door they had come through. 

”…of the Twisted Rune,” Dekaras said, briefly pressing the palm of his hand against his face. 

”The Twisted Rune?”

”I fear so.”

”What, _the_ Twisted Rune? I thought they were just a story.” The bard paused, thinking back to what little she could remember from some esoteric books in Candlekeep. ”A story of…really, horribly evil mages, some of them being liches. Or vampires. Or vampire liches.”

Dekaras nodded. 

”And…I’ve just teleported us straight into their super secret evil villain lair. With no obvious way out. Haven’t I?”

Another, rather pained nod. 

”Oh.” Rini spread her arms, smiling as disarming a smile as she could muster under the circumstances. It came out rather shaky. ”Sorry?”

”Let’s save the apologies for later, and concentrate on getting out of here, preferably in one piece. The portal we came through may be gone, but there has to be another way out.”

”Right. Sure. One thing though.” She tilted her back so that she could look straight into the assassin’s black eyes. ”It’s not all bad. I know there’s something really important in here, something we need to see, or do. The Readings don’t lie, you know. I don’t always get what they mean at once, but they don’t lie. He…Edwin told you about it, didn’t he?”

A brief pause. ”Yes, he did.”

”Then you do know. I trusted you back there, remember? With Aerie? I trusted you’d know what to do about her. Now I’m asking you to trust me back. Please?”

He gave her a long, considering look, but then he nodded and she realized she’d been holding her breath. ”You’re quite right. This ability of yours may be a bit erratic, but it has shown its merit before. Let’s just…pause a moment before we leap into any more strange portals, yes?”

”Fair enough.”

The pair carefully made their way down the long corridor, both of them prepared to be attacked at any moment. It was strange, Rini thought, but she was feeling a bit better than before. More alive than she had since Edwin’s death. She turned to look at Dekaras and thought she could see the same in him, a new sense of purpose and gathering energy. _Weird how mortal danger can affect us like that. Good thing though, I guess._

At the end of the corridor a doorway led into what seemed to be a cloakroom of sorts. There was a tall desk, with an imp snooring on a footstool behind it, an open ledger on the desk, and behind the imp was the wardrobe itself. Most of the items checked in seemed to be black. Just as Zaerini was pondering how difficult it would be to sneak past the imp, it woke up and stared at her and Dekaras with bleary eyes. 

”Names?” It asked in a bored, nasal voice.

”Well, you see,” Rini began, entirely uncertain about what story to spin. ”The thing is that we’re…”

”…merely passing through,” Dekaras filled in. ”Our Master visited last night, and sadly forgot his best cloak. He sent us along to pick it up, so if you’d kindly step aside we can pick it up and be on our way.”

”Right!” Rini agreed. ”He’d be really mad if we didn’t get it back for him, and he so likes to make things explode when he’s angry. He’s quite nuts too, half time he barely knows what he’s blowing up. I bet he’d come back here to look for it himself if we’re not back soon. Say, imps don’t burn well, do they? I hope so for your sake.”

”Well…” The imp hesitated, looking between the ledger and the two people in front of him. ”Give me your Master’s name and I’ll see what I can do. Otherwise I’ll just have to call in management and have them sort this out.”

”His name?” Rini said with a rather fixed smile on her face. ”Of course. His name, it’s…er…” She suddenly interrupted herself at the sound of shuffling footsteps behind her. They were accompanied by singing, a dry, croaking voice raised in a rather peculiar ditty. 

_Ducky, Ducky, he’s the one!  
A Ducky who is lots of fun!  
Don’t annoy him, or you’ll rue,  
The day when Ducky comes for you._

”Nevaziah!” she exclaimed. ”Yep, Nevaziah, that’s our own dear Master all right!” She turned around to see the ancient lich standing in the doorway. He looked much the same as she remembered him, dry and desiccated, with a vague look in his glowing eyes. He’d replaced the old, trashcan-shaped hat she remembered with a new one, a broad-brimmed strawhat covered with fake cherries and what seemed to be a stuffed magpie. Under his arm, a small, yellow rubber duck grinned up at her. 

”Do I know you?” The lich said, scratching his neck. One of his fingers fell off and rolled across the floor. Dekaras picked it up and handed it back to him with a polite nod. 

”Oh yes, Master,” Rini said, bowing deeply before the absent-minded lich. ”We’re your trusted servants, remember? You sent us here to get your cloak.”

”I did?”

”Yes, Master. You said not to come back without it. It was your favourite.” She took a deep breath and decided to take a risk. ”The one Kangaxx always admired so.”

”Kangaxx,” Nevaziah said, the red of his eyes deepening a little at the mention of his old rival. ”That old…wait.” He stared at the half-elf for a moment, and then nodded. ”Oh yes. Kangaxx. Ducky says to bring you along, for you have served me well in the past and will do so again.” He pointed at the imp with a gnarled hand. ”You. Give them my cloak.”

”Er…which one is it, sir?” The imp dared to ask.

”Ducky says that doesn’t matter, as long as it’s mine. My servants will take care of the boring details, that’s what they’re here for after all.”

”Of course, Master,” Dekaras smoothly said, picking one of the myriad black cloaks off its coathanger. ”Would you like me to carry it for you, while you are attending to your affairs within this fine establishment?”

”Oh yes, why not,” The lich said. ”Who are you again?”

”Your devoted servants, Master.”

”Yes, yes, of course.” Nevaziah looked at his rubber duck for a moment, then nodded. ”Well, come along then, my minions.” He giggled briefly. ”Minions. Mmm. I always wanted to have minions. It makes one sound quite professional, don’t you think?”

”Quite so, Master. Your professional and capable demeanor will be the envy of the entire Twisted Rune, to be certain.”

”Off we go then,” Nevaziah said, shuffling off with surprising speed towards one of the doors leading out of the cloakroom. ”Let’s see now, I think a drink first, then maybe a visit to the library before the monthly meeting and then you two can find me a comely zombie prostitute. You can do that, can’t you?”

”As you say, Master,” Dekaras said, his face perfectly calm and respectful. Rini felt rather envious of that talent, she suspected she’d need to practise a great deal before she could achieve the same unruffled effect. 

”Yes, Master,” She said. ”Zombie prostitute it is, Master.” _And as long as he can get us back safe and sound to Athkatla I’d happily get him an entire zombie brothel._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just who the chapter title refers to I will leave open-ended, but the moral still remains. It is a very, very bad idea to harm Edwin.


	177. Depressive Scrubbing

**Cards Reshuffled 177 – Depressive Scrubbing**

_You think it’s a bad thing having a lich trying to kill you? Sure it is, but don’t think that having a lich trying to do you a favour is all sunshine and roses either._

_Excerpt from ’Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

”Barkeep! My usual, if you please, and a bowl of eggnog for Ducky,” Nevaziah the Lich said, nodding to the large ghoul behind the bar. 

”One eggnog and one Bloody Marvellous,” The ghoul said with a nod. Shortly it placed a small blue bowl and a glass of thick, red fluid on the bar in front of the lich. Nevaziah gave a happy sigh and greedily grasped the twisted straw in his drink, sucking it up with a slurping sound. The skeleton musicians playing a jaunty tune on instruments made from their own bones tried and failed to muffle it, and the closest two black-cloaked individuals at the bar turned away in a rather demonstrative manner.

”But…” Zaerini said, unable to help herself as she watched the small yellow rubber duck floating in the bowl of eggnog. ”If he’s a duck…and he’s drinking eggs, isn’t that a bit…” She felt her mind bending and buckling a little and tried to stop thinking at all. Much less painful that way. 

”One does not question the Master’s little whims and fancies,” Dekaras said, nudging her side. ”It is not prudent to do so.”

”Too right, my minion!” Nevaziah agreed, noisily sucking up the last of his drink. ”And for that you get to be Minion Number One. Number One for short.” He nodded at Zaerini. ”You get to be Number Two.”

”Minions, Nevaziah?” An amused voice interrupted. ”How very far you have arisen since last we ran into each other. Last month, as I recall.” This new speaker was also a lich, one who had been a tall and possibly handsome man in life, though it was a bit difficult to tell with the way his corpsepale skin was smeared against his skull. He still had his hair though, a thick grey mane which reached almost all the way down to the collar of his black cloak, a rather unusual garment which seemed to be made from black dragonscales. Underneath that, he wore an elegant magerobe in black and gold. 

”Now, don’t be like that, dear Shangralar,” The woman standing next to the lich said with a condescending smile. She wasn’t undead, she looked like an elegant lady in her early thirties with her brown hair carefully braided and piled on top of her head. Her deep blue magerobe was of a deceptively simple cut, but clearly made from the finest silk, and the tall staff she carried strapped to her back was a sparkling ivory marvel, covered with so much gold and gems that it was hard to make out its actual shape underneath. ”Nevaziah could do with some assistance. We wouldn’t want him to mistake somebody’s head for a hat again, even if it was entertaining.” 

”Layene,” Nevaziah said, raising a desiccated finger to order another drink. ”None of the vampires wanted to bite you yet, despite your whining, did they? Ducky says you could try for a werewolf instead, old Vincent is looking for a new bitch.” He nodded towards the other end of the bar where a very ancient-looking werewolf had stripped off his shirt and was flexing, displaying a scrawny chest covered with white fur. ”And Shangralar, Ducky wants to know why you don’t call yourself Shangralar the Grey these days. It would fit better.”

”At least I have my hair still, and all my digits,” The other lich said in an icy voice. ”Not to mention my wits. Layene is right, you probably do need minions in order not to get lost on your way home.” He gave Zaerini and Dekaras a disapproving look. ”Couldn’t you at least tidy them up a bit before you brought them to the club though? They look as if you’ve been snacking on them or using them for a summoning ritual and we just had that renovation last month. I don’t want them leaving stains all over the place.”

Rini dared to look at Dekaras at this point, and privately had to agree that Shangralar had a point. The assassin might have been partially healed after the battle with Bodhi and Aerie, but he was still bruised, scratched and bloody, disheveled, dirty and looking exhausted enough to fall down any moment. Looking down at the miserable state of her own gear, she suspected she probably didn’t look any better. She certainly didn’t feel any better. _The liches probably look livelier than we do, come to think of it._

”Oh, I suppose so,” Nevaziah agreed. ”They need to properly represent me, after all. Number One, Number Two, I want you both to head over to the bathhouse on the fifth floor. It’s down the left corridor and up the second teleporter on the right side. Pass this over to the staff there and they’ll sort you out, then be back here in two hours, and if you manage to find me that you-know-what on the way back, so much the better.” He scribbled something on a beermat using a sharp fingernail and the remnants of his red drink, then handed it over to Dekaras who pocketed it with a very neutral expression on his face. ”Off you go now, shoo!”

”Number Two,” Rini said with a sigh once the liches were far enough behind that she couldn’t be overheard. ”And bathhouse, I don’t know if I like the idea of bathing in here. What does that beermat say anyway?”

”It is rather hard to make out,” Dekaras said, holding it up to the light. ”I believe it says ’Two Standard Baths, Depressive Scrubbing.”

”What?!”

”No, my mistake. Depraved Sartorial. I must admit I find it hard to determine whether that is better or worse, but for the moment I suspect we’ll have to go along with it.” He gave a minute shrug. ”The trick to getting what you want out of a deranged master is to keep him pleased as long as it won’t cause any actual harm, and make yourself irreplacable enough that you can do things your own way the rest of the time. While I haven’t had much experience with liches, the principle is assuredly still sound, and we do want to get out of this place alive after all. I have no intention of letting you get yourself killed if there is anything I can do to prevent it. Do you have any idea at all what this very important thing is that we need to find or do here?”

”Afraid not,” Rini said with a wince. ”I wish I did, but it doesn’t work like that, it’s often pretty vague. I’m sure I’ll know it when I see it though.”

”Let’s hope so. In the meantime, we’ll do what we must in order to keep our erratic temporary Master content.”

”Including finding the zombie prostitute he wanted?”

”Yes, well,” The assassin said, frowning. ”Regrettably I haven’t quite worked out how to handle that part yet. Still, if there is any place one is likely to come across such a creature it is surely here and I’m bound to think of something eventually.”

”You know, I’m not sure if that makes me relieved or not,” Rini said, wrinkling her nose. ”One thing at a time, I guess. Oh and by the way, I’m not about to let _you_ get yourself killed either, just so you know.” She ignored his surprised look and stopped in front of an ornate door, covered with engravings of skeletal dolphins and flayed mermaids. The signpost standing beside it was quite clear. ”Dagon’s Specialty Bathhouse. Here we go then.” _And if they’ve got bathtubs filled with blood in here too, I may just break down and scream._

The carvings on the walls inside the bathhouse weren’t really any better than the ones on the door. There was a high prevalence of scaly creatures with bulging eyes, as well as serpents. The air was warm, and very humid, but at least there was no sign of blood. Two closed doors led further into the steamy interior of the bathhouse. They were each marked with a sign, but the signs didn’t really give Rini a clue which one she was supposed to enter. Actually, she couldn’t even make out what they were supposed to represent. One of them looked a bit like a stylized wave, and the other one like a pot of noodles, and neither neemed obviously appropriate. A very large naga was sitting on a very small chair by the wall, knitting a garment which seemed to be a sweater made for somebody with eight arms. 

”Tickets!” It said in a deep, gurgling voice, and then peered at the beermat Dekaras handed to it. ”Right, I’ll charge it to your Master’s account. Are you male or female?”

”I’m female and he’s male,” Rini said, feeling rather affronted. ”Can’t you tell?”

The naga’s flat, yellow eyes looked down on her, and the coils of its lower body tightened a little. ”No. You people all look the same to me. You go there, and you go there.” It pointed at the two doors. ”Your replacement clothes will be delivered while you bathe, and your old ones will be returned to you tomorrow by instant delivery. We’ll just put a tracking spell on them and they’ll know where to find you.”

”Oh. Great.” Zaerini smiled a rather weak and shaky smile, and then pulled open the door to which she had been directed. _Because being found by the Twisted Rune is oh so reassuring._ The room in which she found herself had a round, green marble basin, deep enough that the water would reach her shoulders if she sat down on one of the stairs leading down to the bottom. There was nobody else to be seen, and the air was filled with steam. _Well, I guess I really do need a bath. At least it looks trustworthy enough._ She hurried to slip out of her torn and bloody clothes, and carefully lowered herself into the water. It was hot, but not uncomfortably so, and as she sat down she managed to relax a little bit. She forced herself not to think of Edwin, as she started scrubbing herself clean. She couldn’t afford to, not until she was in a safe place. Just think of the bath. _Nice, warm. Comfy._

”You ready to be rinsed?” A voice bubbled into her ear, making her shriek with surprise and drop into the water until only her face was above the surface. As she turned around she was faced with a towering water elemental, reaching all the way up to the ceiling. It was flexing a pair of large, watery hands, and looking down at her with an eager look on its flowing face. The lower half was submerged in the water of the basin, or maybe the water was part of it. _I’m sitting inside it. Oh gods, I’m sitting in it!_

”Whu-what are you?” The bard stammered, cowering before the monstrosity. 

”Waterveiled assassin,” The elemental proudly told her. ”Work here in the bathhouse, take good care of the guests.” It was hard to tell with a face made entirely from streaming water, but she thought it was grinning. ”Good fun sneaking up on them. And now it’s RINSING TIME!”

As the water came crashing down, only the determination not to drown kept Zaerini from screaming. 

-*-

An indeterminate amount of time and a lot of rinsing later, a rather weak-kneed half-elf staggered out of the bath, too exhausted to even worry much about her new clothes. They consisted of a black dress with a wide, but very short ruffled and lacy skirt and a deep cleavage, and stockings which seemed to be made from fishnets. The less said about the underwear, the better. _Not that there’s much of it. Depraved Sartorial, check. Depressive Scrubbing too. Wonder what happened to…_

The other door banged open, and Dekaras leapt out, slamming it close behind him. There was something caught in the door, Rini noticed, something long, green and wriggling. The assassin was looking rather green as well, and had a wild look in his eyes. Possibly that was due to him having been subjected to a very skintight pair of red leather trousers and matching vest which left his chest bare, but it might also have been due to whatever was pounding the door on the other side. 

”You all right?” She asked as the naga locked and barred the door and Dekaras hurried to back away from it. 

”Tentacles…” He said, not taking his eyes off the door. ”So many tentacles…everywhere…you’re clean?”

”Um, yeah. Definitely. You?”

”Indescribably so.” His eyes widened a little as he took in her outfit. ”You seem to have been more fortunate than I in terms of apparel.”

”Wouldn’t bet on that, yours looks comfier. We could trade, but I don’t think the skirt would suit you. The stockings might, if…”

”Never mind. Let’s just get out of here, shall we?”

The pair hurriedly exited the bathhouse, leaving the bored naga to resume its knitting. ”Odd species,” It mused to itself. ”Male…female…still not sure if I got it right that time around or not. Maybe I should have brought in the nixies instead. Or the mermaids. They might know.” It grinned, baring pointed teeth. ”Nah. Not half as much fun.

”We’ve got some time to kill before Nevaziah expects us back,” Zaerini said, shivering a little. The air outside the bathhouse was fairly cold, and her borrowed clothes weren’t exactly warm. ”What should we do in the meantime, do you think?”

Dekaras gave her a considering look, then handed over the black cloak he’d picked up in the Twisted Rune’s cloakroom. ”First of all, I suggest you put this on before you catch pneumonia. Your lips are beginning to turn blue.”

”Thanks,” The half-elf said, gratefully accepting the offered garment. ”You’re sure you don’t want it yourself? We’re pretty equal when it comes to ’skimpiness level’ I’d say.”

”Not at all. While I wouldn’t have picked out these garments myself, I’m perfectly able to manage. I insist you take it.” He looked away briefly, and there was a slight catch in his voice when next he spoke. ”Edwin would have wanted you to.”

”Oh,” Rini said, swallowing hard. ”I guess, but…” She broke off, her fingers having touched something hard as she was wrapping the cloak around herself. ”Hey, what’s this?” She ran her fingers along the cloak’s hem, until she finally came across a small pocket. There was something inside it, a little wooden tile with the number ’42’ burnt into it. ”Do you think this goes to the cloakroom?”

”I wouldn’t think so,” Dekaras said, looking across her shoulder at the tile. ”If so, it would hardly be checked in along with the cloak itself, now would it?”

”Mmm, good point. It does look like something similar though. Let’s see if we can find out what it is, it’s not as if we’ve got any other plans.” Having put on her best smile, she approached an elderly mage passing them in the corridor, and learnt that the tile belonged to the Twisted Rune’s library, situated on the floor directly below them. ”I should have guessed,” She told Dekaras afterwards. ”Candlekeep had this really compliacted storage system, with index cards. I bet this is something like that, and this tile matches a book. Shall we go find out which one?”

”If you wish,” The assassin said. ”Though I feel I should point out that this is the Twisted Rune rather than Candlekeep, and that necromantic volumes can be dangerous. I strongly advice against reading any books which start reading you back, have teeth along the spine or seem to be breathing.”

”Ugh, no thanks. And no romance novels either, I remember this one book Immy had called ’Nefarious Ninja Nookies’. She’d read bits of it out loud when we were on our way to Baldurs Gate and she got all these wild ideas about it and…” She coughed briefly as she remembered the past direction of Imoen’s obsessions and then felt her cheeks go a little hot as she mentally lined up certain passages from the book with her current companion. _Especially Immy’s favourite bit with the coconut oil. Gods, talk about putting your foot in your mouth._ ”Come to think of it,” She said in a rather forced voice, ”Breathing books may not be all that bad, right?”

Dekaras nodded, a little too quickly, and she thought his cheeks looked a little pink as well. ”Relatively speaking, they might be downright enjoyable.”

The library wasn’t hard to locate, and though at first glance it appeared to be a relatively small room, as soon as one stepped inside it the tall bookshelves spiraled out in every direction, creating a winding labyrinth of books. In fact, the library was larger on the inside than the entire Twisted Rune headquarters had seemed to be at first, covering ten floors and containing shelves above, behind, and occasionally inside the other shelves. Rini looked up at one point and noticed that the ceiling was also covered with bookshelves, and that a young female vampire with a very vacant expression was casually strolling along it reading a thick volume. When the vampire blithely walked around a corner and suddenly crossed three different intersections at once, the bard had to look away before the vertigo made her get too sick. 

”Interesting,” Dekaras said in a low voice. ”I believe the entire location is a pocket plane of sorts, and that the library is yet another pocket plane tucked inside it. A very convenient way of storing massive amounts of items, similar to how Bags of Holding work. It must have taken vast amounts of magic to create it. Let’s hope the spells are stable.”

”Oh, great. I wonder if it buggers up time as well? I hope we won’t walk inside and then come out a hundred years from now or something freaky like that.”

”I doubt that, it would be very inconvenient to the Twisted Rune themselves after all.”

”Yeah, but they’re mostly undead. It wouldn’t matter that much to them. Speaking of which, wonder what kind of librarian they’ve got? Maybe a mummy, or some kind of summoned demon, or a tarrasque, or…or…”

”Or a little old lady?”

”No, I was about to say an orangutan, actually and…oh.”

A tall desk had suddenly appeared directly in front of Zaerini in a spot which had been empty a few seconds ago. The little old lady sitting behind it smiled politely, pushing her round steelrimmed glasses up on her nose. They immediately slipped down again. She had white hair gathered together into a severe bun, a round and rosy face with bright eyes, and was wrapped in a fluffy pink shawl which obscured all but her face. Something moved inside the shawl. Presumably it was a hand, but it was oddly difficult to tell, even as it pointed at the small plaque standing on the desk. Next to the plaque a human skull rested in a bowl of potpourri. It smelled vaguely of lemons. On the plaque, a few sentences had been listed in very tidy, professional-looking printed words.

1\. For the convenience of the readers, observe silence. This includes incantations and rituals, other than in the Inner Sanctum.   
2\. Absolutely no smoking, eating, fighting or decomposing.  
3\. For books not returned on time, a fee will be claimed.   
4\. Reservations may be made by request. Contact Staff for further information.   
5\. No dogs, cats, imps or Flying Polyps allowed. 

”Sorry,” Rini whispered, holding out the small tile she’d found in the cloak. ”I’ve got this thing…”

The little old lady nodded, eyes twinkling merrily. The twinkle ought to have looked friendly, but there was something off about it, as if the eyes behind those round little glasses had more facets than they ought to. She held out what was almost certainly a hand, because what else could it after all be, and as the first tile disappeared a second one appeared in its place. The second one was marked with the words ’Reservation 42. Section A, Row M, Number 19.” Rini gingerly accepted it, her mind telling her that yes, that was an old lady’s narrow, dry fingers she was touching and no, they didn’t have too many joints at all, what could possibly make you think that? ”Thanks,” She whispered, as quietly as she could. ”Sorry to be a bother.”

The old woman nodded again, and her tongue briefly darted out to lick her lips. It was grey, and moist, and just a little too wide. Then it was gone, and her mouth creased into a smile even as she winked out of sight, gone as if she’d never been there. 

”Do you know what a Flying Polyp is?” Rini said, as quietly as she could. 

”No,” Dekaras whispered to her. ”And I doubt we want to know. This strikes me as a place where you probably don’t want to ask too many questions.” He stared at the spot where the old lady had been. ”You never know who might be listening.”

”Good point. Let’s find our, eh, reservation. Which we totally came here to pick up on our Master’s behalf.”

Section A was close to the entrance, but Row M required walking in a circle along a bridge made up from tilted bookshelves, and then through the point where they’d started and widdershins around again. After nine laps, a door opened in the ceiling, allowing them to enter a small room with no doors. 

”I think I’m getting seasick,” Rini said in a tightly controlled voice. ”I thought Candlekeep was big, but…”

”Allow me,” Dekaras said, leading her by the shoulder up to a small, green leather sofa floating in empty space above an endlessly falling bookcase. ”Try not to look at anything too closely until you get your sense of balance back.” She closed her eyes, grateful that at least the sofa wasn’t obviously moving, and heard him nearby, examining the volumes on the closest shelf. ”This would seem to be it,” He eventually said. ”A section of books all belonging to ’Miskatonic University’, wherever that might be, and here is number 19. It’s called…”

”What?” Rini asked when he didn’t continue. She opened her eyes to see the assassin staring at a small leatherbound book, a very peculiar expression on his face. ”What’s it called? What is it?”

”It is called ’The Vampiricus Omnibus – Unabridged’,” Dekaras said, still not taking his eyes off the book. He opened it, his eyes rapidly scanning the pages. ”A…curious coincidence. Judging from the chapter titles, it seems to concern the physical nature of vampires, as well as various ways to harm them. And one chapter near the end in the ’Speculative’ section is titled ’Curing Vampirism, Fact or Fiction’.”

”Let me see!” Rini said, then immediately lowered her voice again as she remembered the librarian. ”I mean, please?” She felt her fingers trembling as she took the book. It felt heavier than it should have, and warmer. As she flipped it open her heart was beating faster, pounding against her ribcage like a trapped animal, fighting to get out. ”A long chapter here on ’Sparkleskin and Fang Loss, the Inbred Vampire’. Another one on ’Friends, Foes, Fodder’. And here we are.” She stared at the engraved image above the chapter heading. A human heart, beautifully detailed with all its chambers and bloodvessels, so meticulously crafted that she could almost see it beating. It leapt out at her, filling her vision.” _The Heart. This is it._ ”It’s…all very obscure and arcane,” She said, trying and failing to keep her voice steady. ”I don’t get it all, we’d have to study it more. But it seems to say that, well, that possibly, just maybe, under the right circumstances it might be possible to bring a vampire back to life.” She looked up at Dekaras and felt her eyes grow burning hot when she saw the same desperate hope she was feeling flicker rapidly across his features. _Hope. Gods please, don’t let it be false hope. But we have to try._

”We have to try,” Dekaras said, nodding. ”If there is even the smallest chance, we must take it.”

”Agreed. I think we’d better get back to Nevaziah soon though, before he forgets we’re supposed to be his loyal minions and refuses to get us out of here.”

”So,” Layene’s voice said as a portal swirled into existence directly behind the bard and the asssasin. ”Dotty old Nevaziah got himself hoodwinked, did he? I don’t know who you two are, but you’re both about to realize the folly of challenging the Twisted Rune.” She smiled. ”I thought scrying you out would be profitable, but I wasn’t expecting anything like this. Shangralar will be very pleased when I inform him. So, care to tell me you’re up to before I kill you, or shall I bring you to him and extract the information later from your reanimated corpses?”

”Well, far be it from me to deny such a reasonable request,” Dekaras said. ”I would have thought it was obvious, but as simple deduction is clearly beyond you, please allow me to elaborate.”

”What?” Rini hissed under her breath, only to find her comment utterly ignored. The pain inside returned, a sudden sting and an intake of breath as she remembered Edwin’s many, many attempts at ’Thayvian Diplomacy’. _I guess he had to get it from somewhere._

”The two of us came here in order to entirely annihilate the Twisted Rune organization, or at least this particular branch of it,” Dekaras said, not even batting an eyelid at this outrageous claim. ”Surely you weren’t thinking more than two people would be necessary? Five or six would be an overkill and hardly entertaining. Since you so kindly obliged us by turning up alone, I do believe we will start with you.”

_What in the Nine Hells is he doing?_ The bard kept her mouth shut, not wanting to interfere with what was surely a bluff of some sort. _It has to be a bluff. Doesn’t it?_

Layene was eyeing them both with clear apprehension by now, grasping her elegant mage staff tightly in both hands. ”You’re lying,” She said, but she didn’t sound entirely certain of this. ”But just in case you’re not…” She suddenly slammed the staff down on the ground, and white light flared around it, bright enough that Rini had to shield her eyes. Layene’s voice seemed to speed up, getting ridicuously highpitched as she chanted a complicated incantation. It was one which was definitely beyond Rini’s own skills, but she could make out enough words to guess what it was. 

_Time Stop. Well, this day just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?_


	178. Heart and Blood

**Cards Reshuffled 178 – Heart and Blood**

_Don’t be afraid to try the impossible, not if it’s important enough to you. Who knows, you may even succeed._

_Excerpt from ’Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

The air had gone wobbly, and was filled with rainbow-coloured streaks and flashing lights. Out of the corner of her eye, Zaerini thought she could glimpse a purple and pink pony with a sickly sweet smile on its malformed face, and she hurriedly looked away. In the middle of the spinning colours, the mage Layene was standing perfectly still, as if frozen in time. She wasn’t even blinking, and didn’t seem to be breathing either. 

”Now that is interesting,” Dekaras said, studying the immobile woman. 

”Interesting? ’Awfully weird’ fits it better, I think. If you’ve got an idea what’s up, now would be a great time to tell me.”

”You do remember that plaque on the librarian’s desk, I presume? The one which listed all the rules of this place, including the ’no fighting’ one. Perhaps Layene ought to have paid more attention to the rules, and her spell wouldn’t be currently backfiring on her.”

”So time stopped for us, not her?” Rini batted away a small herd of slowly rotating blue chickens and poked Layene in the chest. The woman didn’t move. ”You knew that would happen?”

”No. I hoped something of the sort would happen, but either way I thought it would improve our odds if I could provoke her into doing something rash before it occurred to her that she might summon aid. Against both her and her cohorts, I fear we wouldn’t stand a chance.”

”So…what do we do now? Kill her while her time’s up? Run away? How long do we have anyway?”

”I wouldn’t know, and as for killing her, there is the risk that the library’s safeguards would disapprove of that as well. I’d rather not end up slitting my own throat by mistake. I say we make our escape while we still can.”

”Good point, so let’s…hey, is she moving?” 

Layene’s lips were indeed moving, slowly and laboriously, pulled back into the rictus grin of a cranium. Her hair was beginning to fall out in large clumps, her skin was wrinkling up and becoming grey and dull, her limbs were twisting like the boughs of an ancient tree. And even as she rapidly aged into an ancient crone, and then into a hideous, staggering thing, she was still holding her staff in a tight grip and she was still croaking out a word of command. 

Rini acted without thinking, aware only of how the shining, elegant staff was pointed directly at herself and her companion, and how it definitely ought to be pointed in any other direction. Flinging out her arm she managed to grab hold of it just as time came whistling back and Layene finished. The staff felt warm to her touch, warm and slick, and she could feel it shudder as a large ball of silver and red fire shot out of it, followed by several arcing lightning bolts. The air crackled and stung her nostrils, and then there was a loud ’woosh’ as the fireball struck one of the tall bookshelves. Magical volumes went up in flames, spewing out more sparks and lightning bolts, not to mention a stream of glowing green letters which sang in sharp little voices about death and destruction. 

_Uh Oh. That can’t be good._

”Go!” Dekaras told her, getting her started with a small shove to her back. Finding this a very reasonable suggestion, she ran at full speed up one of the toppling bookshelves, dodging tiny erupting volcanoes and nearly treading on a hissing salamander as it flew out of a nasty-looking spellbook which was chained down to the floor. Risking a quick glance across her shoulder she was relieved to find that the assassin was following her, and less relieved to find that Layene was doing the same. The Twisted Rune mage wasn’t at all recognizable anymore, she mostly resembled a mummified corpse, but she was moving faster than her withered appearance suggested, and she was gargling out another spell. Suddenly she broke off with a groan of frustration, followed by an angry wail. 

”Her tongue fell out,” Dekaras called out as his longer legs made him catch up with her. ”Watch out for non-verbals.”

If Layene was casting any more spells, they wouldn’t be heard anyway, for now there was a very loud siren blaring through the air, as well as rapidly flashing angry red lights. A metallic voice was echoing in Rini’s ears, sounding unnaturally calm under the circumstances. 

”Please proceed to the nearest exit,” It said. ”This is not a drill, repeat, not a drill. Please proceed in a calm and orderly manner to the nearest exit portal. There may be cake.”

_Exit sounds good_ , Rini thought as she slid down a tunnel of bookcases and through a vortex of burning scrolls. _Exit sounds great, even if the cake is a lie._ She was still holding onto Layene’s staff, afraid to let it go in case the woman got hold of it again. Though she wasn’t actively using it, it was still giving off little sparks, igniting the occasional book along her path and hampering the decomposing wizard. More importantly, she had a very firm grip on the Vampiricus Omnibus. She wasn’t about to let go of that unless it were pried out of her cold, dead hands. 

”Yargh!” Layene gargled, and she must have cast some sort of spell, tongue or no tongue. Rini felt a sudden weight on her shoulders and then tiny, clawed hands pulling at her hair and trying to tear her ears off. Something else was biting her leg, and yet a third something was sinking its teeth into her shoulder. The air was filled with angry little yips and snarls of an awfully familiar kind. 

_Kobolds. It just had to be kobolds. Please don’t let them have fire arrows, enough fire here already._

She didn’t dare activate the staff again, but she managed to use it to swipe a pair of kobolds off Dekaras’ back. Fortunately this worked well enough without setting fire to him. Moments later she heard a small scream and a squelching sound and guessed that he’d returned the favour. Something warm and wet was sliding down her neck and into her silly dress, but at least nothing was biting her anymore. The books were falling faster now, the entire pocket plane of the Twisted Rune library rapidly collapsing around her, and the fire kept spreading, more and more exquisitely rare magical tomes going up in flames.

_If Eddie were to see this, he’d be yelling so hard at the both of us._

There was no time to react to the sting of sorrow she felt at that thought, for now there was something ahead of her other than burning books and crumbling bookcases. A widening rectangle of light, opening up in thin air, and above it a sign with glowing green letters, spelling out ’Emergency Exit’. 

_Oh, good. Unless it opens up into a shark tank. I wouldn’t be surprised if it did._

There was no way to stop though, she was falling through the portal already, and then she landed on a blissfully solid, steady, smooth and cold floor. It was made of black stone this floor, and as she sat up, rubbing her aching head, she noticed the Twisted Rune symbol laid out in red stones directly underneath her. The second thing she noticed was that she and Dekaras had emerged into a rather large, round chamber, with no windows and only one door at the opposite end of the room. The third thing she noticed was that they weren’t alone. There was a circle of tall thrones around the walls, and there were people sitting, perching, and in some cases oozing or slithering on the thrones. Shangralar was one of them. There were other liches as well, several vampires, and a very fat beholder who was dozing on an especially broad throne, all its eyes shut. 

”Now let us proceed,” Shangralar was just saying. ”As I was saying, our ’Human Skin’ line of products sadly failed miserably, due to some sort of unfortunate disturbance with our supplier. However, the polls indicated that the interest in them simply wasn’t as high as we’d hoped, so my plan is for us to switch to the ’Pretty Plush Ponies’ filled with mind-altering drugs instead. That should work out nicely, especially if we can get some high-level government officials hooked.” He picked a letter up from a tall pile next to him and gave it a curious look. ”Next on the agenda…a letter from some irate mage demanding that we ’FFS nerf warlocks’. I think that may have been sent to the wrong address, the infernal sigil is rather blurred, so I will pass it on to our Legal Department in Baator and see what they make of it. Objections? No? Good. As for the annual staff picnic, I believe that…what’s this?”

”My loyal minions!” Nevaziah happily piped up. ”Did the bath perk you up nicely? I always find that it does, and so does Ducky.”

”They don’t _look_ as if they’ve had a bath,” a very tall vampire said, giving the bard and the assassin a look filled with distaste. ”Honestly, Nevaziah, what is the meaning of this?”

Rini gave first Dekaras and then herself a quick look. She had to admit that she could understand the vampire’s position. They were both beaten, bloody, scratched, burned, and still wearing the horrible clothes they’d been given in the bathhouse, now with the addition of various tears caused by their escape from the burning library. 

”Master,” She started. ”The thing is, we…” 

”YARGH!” The very angry Layene dropped through the escape portal and landed in a heap of rotting limbs on the floor. ”YARGH!” She staggered to her feet and towards her foes, hands stretched out in front of her. 

”…we brought you the zombie you asked for!” Rini said, as quickly as she could. ”She’s not a zombie prostitute as such, but really, a charming, suave, intelligent lich such as yourself needn’t resort to such things. I’m sure if you give her a few flowers, some compliments, and take her some nice places she’ll just adore you.” 

”Yargh?” Layene said, eyes rolling in what seemed to be scepticism. Possibly it was simply due to a lack of connective tissue though. 

”Not that our noble Master would ever ask for a zombie prostitute, of course,” Dekaras hurried to add as the Twisted Rune Council all turned their heads and smirked at Nevaziah. ”That was a misunderstanding on Number Two’s part. Clearly our Master requires a zombie lady of the finest pedigree.” 

”Well said, Number One,” Nevaziah agreed. ”Perhaps Ducky spoke a little unclearly. It’s the beak, you see.” 

”Isn’t that Layene?” Shangralar said. ”It looks like her robes. Did she give up vampires and settle for ghouls, then? And is that smoke I’m smelling?” 

”Oh, right,” Rini said. ”I’m afraid your library’s on fire. Didn’t you hear the alarm? Maybe it can’t be heard outside.” 

”The library!” Shangralar gasped, his waxen face stiff with horror such as had surely never before been seen on the face of a lich. ”That place has spells enough inside to blow up this entire pocket plane and us all along with it. Who did this?! WHO?!” 

Mutely, Dekaras and Zaerini both simultaneously pointed at Layene, who growled back at them in accusation. 

”Ducky says you’re being silly, zombie lady” Nevaziah scoffed. ”My minions are well trained, but a fluffy little duckling can’t do a duck’s work.”

”I suppose you have a point. Unlike these mortals, Layene does have the magical powers to cause this calamity,” Shangralar said. ”Magical powers, but not an ounce of sense. Layene! You are hereby demoted in the ranks of the Twisted Rune. Your current rank is ’Pug’! Nevaziah, as your minions brought this to our attention, you’re promoted to ’Carrion Count’.” 

Layene fell to her knees, groaning with despair, arms stretched out in a desperate plea that Shangralar ignored. ”Everyone, to the library!” He yelled. ”We need blocking spells, ice spells, whatever will be necessary for containment…and will somebody for Evil’s sake please get that stupid zombie out of here before she gets it into her empty head to make something else explode?” Liches, vampires and various other creatures all leapt into action, swiftly teleporting out of the room until they were all gone. All except for two, that is. 

”Yargh?” Layene whimpered, but Nevaziah had already courteously offered her his arm. 

”Come along, zombie lady,” He said. ”Ducky is curious, do you like Maztican food? I know this lovely little restaurant…” 

”Ah, Master?” Dekaras said. ”If you don’t mind, a portal out of here to our original destination would be greatly appreciated. We can best serve you after we’ve had a chance to recuperate, after all.” 

”Good idea, Number One,” Nevaziah agreed. ”You have both served me well, my loyal minions.” He grinned, his eyes glowing bright red with delight. ”Carrion Count. Mmm.” He raised his hand, and a glowing portal appeared in the air. Through it, Zaerini could see a beautiful sight, the crumbling houses of the Athkatla slums. ”Ducky says see you later!” Nevaziah called out as she and Dekaras hurried to step through. Just before the portal closed behind them, Rini could see him wink and bend over Layene’s rotting hand in a bow. The undead woman was looking a little stunned, but not entirely unappreciative. ”Much later.” 

”You have the book, I trust?” Dekaras said as the bruised and battered pair of adventurers staggered through Athkatla’s streets in the general direction of the Five Flagons. Now that she was at least relatively safe, Rini really felt how much every inch of her was hurting, and given the way he limped, she thought her companion was in just as bad a state as she was. They leaned rather heavily on each other for support in order not to simply fall flat on their faces, but they were at least moving slowly forward. 

”Right here,” Rini wheezed, patting one of her pockets carefully. ”Before we can have a look at it we’ll have to deal with something maybe worse than the Twisted Rune though.” 

”Dare I even ask what that might be?” 

”Well…you’ll see.” 

-*- 

”WHERE IN THE NINE HELLS HAVE YOU TWO BEEN AND WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING TO YOURSELVES?!” Jaheira yelled at the top of her voice, her face red enough that she looked ready to explode as she waved a finger in the faces of the two exhausted rogues. ”You disappeared for a day with no word, and you come back looking half dead and dressed like escapees from an undead cabaret! Sit down at once and let me have a look at you before you do any more senseless damage to yourselves!” 

”Jaheira,” Anomen mildly intervened. ”They are back alive after all, and without fatal injuries. Given the circumstances, that is a good start.” 

”I was so worried!” Imoen said, trying to hug both the bard and the assassin at once. She had tears in her eyes, but she was smiling at the same time. ”I’m so glad you’re not dead, but where have you been?”

”It’s kind of a long story,” Rini said, wiping some blood away from her mouth. She was still clinging to Dekaras in order to keep on her feet, and he was in turn leaning on the doorpost and swaying in a rather ominous manner. 

”Long stories need sitting down,” Minsc said in a firm voice, half steering, half carrying them both across the floor. He deposited them on a comfortable sofa where they collapsed, Rini with her head resting on Dekaras’ shoulder. She had serious trouble keeping her eyes open by now. As soon as she knew she was safe, she’d noticed how it felt as if she hadn’t slept for a week. 

”Right. Story,” She muttered, trying to remember which parts they’d agreed to share, and which parts would perhaps better be not mentioned at all, for the sake of their friends’ peace of mind. ”Aerie’s gone. She’s all fuzzy and sweet now with cute squirrels and bunnies in her head.” 

”Possibly pretty flowers and sunlight,” Dekaras said, his eyes closed. 

”Right. Sunlight. Um, where was I? Gotta book, yeah.” She hugged it tightly to her chest, smiling wearily. ”Important. Is about vampires. Fixing them. Curing. Hope.” 

”Fixing them?” Anomen asked. ”Where did you find such a thing?” 

”Um…find…” She tried to think, but her thoughts were scattering into a pink, warm cloud. _Sleepy. So sleepy._ ”Twisted Rune!” She proudly proclaimed, not paying attention to the startled gasps and the occasional oath coming from her friends. ”Thassright.” She paused. ”Was s’posed to say that?” 

”No,” Dekaras said, still not opening his eyes. ”Don’t think so.” 

”You tell them then! Sleepy now.” 

”Wait!” Jaheira said in a tightly controlled voice. ”Don’t go to sleep yet. Are you telling me that you two stole that book from…the Twisted Rune?” 

”Nuh uh. Borrowed. Kind of. An’ a magic staff. Shiny.” 

”Don’t think they’ll mind,” Dekaras offered. ”Too busy with the fire we helped start.” He nodded, very slowly and deliberately, still with his eyes closed. ”Good times. Fire’s very distracting, always thought so. Good for cover, fire. Very…big explosion too. Big boom.” His voice trailed off, and Rini vaguely felt his breathing getting slower and deeper. Somewhere in the distance, Jaheria was saying something, shaking her shoulder, but she couldn’t understand the words any longer. They didn’t matter. Sleep mattered, and the book. 

__Sleep first. Really…really…slee…_ _

-*- 

”Hey guys, look what I found!” Imoen proudly proclaimed the next afternoon as she dropped a soggy package onto the table where Zaerini was sitting. The bard hastily shoved the ’Vampiricus Omnibus’ out of the way so it wouldn’t get stained, and then scooped up Softpaws into her lap before the cat could reach the smelly package. 

”That’s great, Immy!” She said as she peered inside. ”Was it hard to find it?” 

”Not too bad. I took Ano with me, just to be safe, but we never saw any vampires. The ones who lived probably ran off when Bodhi died, or at least got too scared to mess with us again.” The young thief wrinkled her nose briefly. ”Worst part was puzzling out where her heart ended up after you tore her all to bits. Turns out it got stuck on the ceiling, but it seems more or less whole at least. So, do you have any idea what to do with it yet?” 

”Sort of,” Rini said, a little evasively. Truthfully, she wasn’t as sure as she’d have liked to be, but she knew the heart was of extreme importance. Both her Reading and the book she’d ’rescued’ from the Twisted Rune implied as much. 

”The book states that the heart of a vampire sire, if destroyed in a ceremonial manner, may restore life to a fledgling,” Dekaras explained. The assassin was sitting with his legs propped up on the table, thoughtfully staring up into the ceiling. ”Regrettably, it’s rather vague on the exact procedure. I still say there has to be more to it than simply putting the heart next to…to Edwin.” 

”You’re probably right,” Rini said, frowning. ”My Reading spoke of the Heart and the Blood. We’ve got the heart…or at least Bodhi’s heart, thanks to Immy, and I guess there’s some blood left in it still but somehow, I get the feeling there’s something else involved. One other thing the book mentions is the ’Embrace of the Sun’. I think I know what that means, at least. Amaunator was the God of the Sun, we found his altar back when we were going after the Shade Lord, and he even owes us a favour for helping his dead followers. Whatever else we need to do; we’ll have to make a trip to Imnesvale.” 

”Once the healers release us from enforced rest, that is,” The assassin said with an annoyed grimace. ”It’s perfectly ridiculous, we’re both entirely healthy and we have no time to waste.” 

”Well you two were pretty beat up,” Imoen said, grinning. ”Can’t blame Jaheira too much, really. I guess I can talk to her now I’m back. Anything else I can do to help?” 

”You could always ask the berserker guarding the door to stop singing Rashemani drinking songs, it’s not the most appropriate accompaniment for a study session.” 

”I think he’s trying to cheer us up,” Rini said. ”And I did tell him, but I guess he forgot. The tunes are nice, anyway.” 

”Consider yourself fortunate you do not understand the words,” Dekaras said. 

”Why?” Imoen immediately asked. ”Go on, tellmetellmetellmetellme!” 

”No. I will not be guilty of corrupting young and impressionable people.” 

”Too late for that.” Imoen smiled angelically. ”I’ll tell Jaheira you’re both well enough to be let out if you tell me. She’ll believe _me_.” 

”You might as well do it,” Rini said as the assassin gave her a slightly desperate look. ”She’s not gonna give up now.” She pursed her lips. ”Besides, now you made me curious too, so I guess I’ll help her. I’m good at nagging too.” 

”Tell me something,” Dekaras said wearily. ”Your adopted father, Gorion, he was entirely greyhaired before you reached your teenage years, was he not?” 

”Um, sure. More like white in some spots. How do you know?” 

”Oh, merely an educated guess, that is all.” 

-*- 

The trip to Imnesvale and the old temple to Amaunator went without incidents. Rini had worried a great deal about what state Edwin would be in once they got there, and had made certain there were as many preservation spells on his body as possible, but so far no further harm seemed to have been done. There was a part of her which wanted to spend her time sitting there, staring at his pale and immobile face, just waiting for him to wake up, but she knew that wouldn’t work. _Besides, it’d feel a bit creepy._ She rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to concentrate. _Two will enter, three may leave. That’s what they said, the Heart and the Blood. I guess that part is clear enough._

”We’ll have to bring him in alone,” She told Dekaras, who was standing next to the doorway leading down into the dungeon, steadfastly not looking at Edwin’s body which lay on the ground next to him, covered with a blanket. ”Just the two of us.” 

”Are you sure that is wise?” Anomen questioned her. ”Though we did thoroughly cleanse this place, traces of the infestation may yet linger.” 

”Yes. I’m sorry I can’t explain it better. It’s just the way it has to be.” She reached down to pet Softpaws, who was sitting right between her feet, looking up at her in a very accusing manner. ”Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered. Softy will stay up here, if we run into any trouble we can’t handle, she’ll let you know.” 

_I should be going with you, Kitten_ , the familiar told her. 

_I’m sorry, but you know why. I really can use your help up here. Not just with giving warning either, you’re the one who can best help Insufferable._ The half-elf turned around slightly, to look at the small box Minsc was holding. The little monkey lay inside, only the faint movements of his narrow chest hinting that he was even alive. He’d stopped whimpering this last day, a worrying sign, and had refused any food ever since Edwin’s death. 

_Oh, very well_ , Softpaws agreed, her whiskers twitching. _I’ll keep an eye on the little pest. She curled her tail carefully around her paws. At least you’ll have the blood of your mate with you on the hunt._

_What?_

_Your mate’s sire,_ the familiar explained. _You should ask him to teach you how to walk properly, you still make too much noise. Tell him I said so._

_Maybe I will_ , Rini said, no longer entirely paying attention to the conversation. She was thinking back, back to her Reading, and what she’d seen, trying to make it all make sense. Absently, she reached down to stroke the cat’s head. _Maybe I will._

The trek down to the inner chambers of the old temple was far shorter than Rini remembered it. Of course, the absence of lethal monsters was a great help there, and it also didn’t seem nearly as dark as she remembered it. Before, the shadows had been compact, almost like living and hostile entities of their own, but now there was sunlight here and there, trickling down through cracks in the ancient building. 

”There it is,” She eventually said as they reached a small sidechamber. ”I noticed it first time we went through here, it kind of stands out.” She pointed at the statue standing by the far wall, a tall and robed figure with rays of sunlight depicted around its head in actual gold. There was an old stained-glass window in the ceiling above it, dusty and stained, but what sunlight did come through shone directly at the statue. It had its arms outstretched and gathered together as if to receive something. 

”Let’s hope you are correct,” Dekaras said. He was holding Edwin’s body very carefully while trying to look at it as little as possible, and there was a strain in his voice that Rini didn’t think came entirely from physical effort. ”We may only get one chance at this.” 

”I know. It’s the place which seems to fit the best, though.” She took a deep breath. ”Well. I guess we might as well get started.” 

Together, they placed the dead vampire into the statue’s arms, being as gentle as they could and trying to arrange him in as dignified a manner as they were able. His head lolled back limply, but at least his eyes were closed and his robes looked neat enough. Rini took out Bodhi’s heart, a disgusting lump of black and soggy flesh, and placed it on top of Edwin’s chest, her other hand reaching out to smooth his hair back from his forehead. The sunlight felt a little warmer, heating her back, but apart from that nothing happened. 

”Thought so,” She said. ”The Reading said both the Heart and the Blood would be needed.” She smiled a small smile, hope stirring inside, making her stomach feel as if it was filled with butterflies. ”But, I think we’ve got that covered.” 

”You have the advantage over me when it comes to interpreting prophecy,” Dekaras said, watching her curiously. ”What do you mean?” 

”I think it’s a double meaning, really. ’The Heart to drive us on, the Blood to steady us. The Heart as the center, the Blood as the key.’ The Heart, I thought it meant Bodhi’s heart, but that’s only part of the puzzle. Just plonking down a bit of dead meat on top of him won’t do any magic, will it? Edwin’s Heart, Edwin’s Blood, that’s what’s needed. Not literally, that’d be gross.” She pointed at first herself and then at the assassin. ”I love him, you know. He’s got my heart, and I guess I’ve got his. You’re his blood. It’s us he needs, more than anything else. We can bring him home, I know it. We’ve just got to work out the how of it.” 

Dekaras had been listening to her without comment, but now he nodded. ”Yes. And I think I may be able to help with that.” He stepped closer to the statue, and carefully drew forth the amulet still hanging around Edwin’s neck. It shone a dark red, the sunlight didn’t reflect off it as it should have done but seemed to be drawn into it instead. ”As I explained earlier, this was crafted using blood magic,” the assassin explained, running his fingers across the smooth stone. ”The spell is still active, it is still tied to me. It is also still tied to Edwin, no matter his current state.” He hesitated briefly. ”If we can work out a means to access its full power, I think we may be able to reach him. It would be difficult though, and obviously I can’t do it myself.” 

”I don’t think I could either,” Rini slowly said. ”I mean, I know some spells, but nothing on that level.” She looked up at the stained-glass window again, and at the specks of coloured sunlight filtering through it, creeping across the walls of the small room. ” But, I know someone who does, and when I last saw him he said he owed me one. I think it’s time to ask the Sun God for that favour he owes me.” 

Zaerini wasn’t particularly adept at praying. During her days in Candlekeep, she’d never bothered much with it – gods were by far less interesting than other things, and though she’d known it was expected of her to find some sort of patron deity, there’d been no rush. Then she’d been on the run from first Sarevok, then Irenicus, with far too many other matters to occupy her. Erevan Illesere had found her rather than the other way around, and the elven trickster god was a bit of an anomaly as gods went, neither wanting nor expecting a lot of prayers from his followers. So, she felt a bit out of her depth right now, uncertain how to get started. 

”Don’t overthink it,” Dekaras suggested to her. He was still holding the amulet, and as he bent over Edwin’s lifeless form she was startled to see the similarity in their profiles. _Can’t believe I overlooked it for so long._ ”He’s a God, he’ll be able to hear you, with or without ceremony. With all his followers dead, he can hardly expect you to observe old protocols anyway, there is nobody around to teach them to you.” 

”I suppose you’re right.” She sighed. ”Well, here we go then.” The sunlight was definitely brighter than before, warm against her face as she looked upwards, towards the patches of sky visible through the window in the ceiling. _Amaunator? Can you hear me? I hope you can, because I really need your help now._ She went on to explain the situation, then it occurred to her that a god would probably know all about that already. _Help us to help him_ , she went on. _Please, help us bring him back. I’ll do whatever it takes, but we need your help. Please?_ The sunlight was nearly blinding now, far brighter than it should have been able to be as it shone through the dirty window. 

”Something is happening,” Dekaras said in a tense voice. ”The spell on the amulet is growing stronger, the conduit is opening.” His face had grown quite pale, and the flashing red light from the amulet’s stone was casting hollow shadows across it. 

”Are you ok?” Rini asked, nearly unable to speak from the sensation of warm sunlight filling her, spreading through her entire body, pulsating in time with her heartbeat. Bodhi’s heart was smoking, even smoldering a little in some spots. 

”Don’t concern yourself over that. You have to act swiftly now. Try touching the amulet.” 

Nodding, the bard reached her hand out to touch his, closing across the amulet. It felt unnaturally warm now, but oddly enough didn’t burn her skin and as she focused upon it she thought she could see strange shapes stirring in the depths of the red stone. 

_The Heart, the Blood, the Sun, all gathered together. It’s time. Come back, Eddie. Come back to us, we love you and we need you to come back. Please?_

-*- 

In the space between worlds, there was only darkness. There was no pain, no demons or devils howling obscenities or brandishing pitchforks. It would have been easier, perhaps, if there had been. Pain might have been preferable to the complete and endless loneliness of this place. Edwin had never thought himself particularly dependent on the company of other people – most of them were imbeciles anyway. Still, there were a few rare individuals whose company he missed. No, not missed, craved, with all the urgent need of a man in a desert, dying of thirst and craving a drink of water. 

_I hope they’re all right. I wish I could know for sure._

That made things even worse, not even knowing that much, endlessly worrying. With only his own mind for company, it was turning in upon itself, and he feared that in time it would devour itself, leaving him a drooling lunatic. 

_Not that I can drool, exactly, not without a body._

No sight, no sound, no sensation, not even the relief of sleep from his own thoughts. It was surely enough to drive anybody insane. He didn’t think he was insane already, yet how long would it take? There was absolutely no way to measure time in here, wherever ’here’ was. Minutes could have passed in the world of the living, or even years. He could not know. 

_In a place with absolutely no sensation, how utterly unfair is it that I can still be bored? I wish I could lodge a complaint about that with somebody. Of course, if this is intended as some sort of punishment for perceived misdeeds, it’s probably done on purpose. Or it could be a consequence of dying while a vampire, who knows where dead vampires end up? I don’t recall ever reading anything about that._

He spent an indeterminate amount of time imagining Bodhi’s death, hoping that it had taken place by now and that it had been intensely painful, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy him, the endless worry came back. If he’d still had a body, it would have been the equivalent of a rat patiently gnawing its way through his chest, pausing only to make a meal of his innards. It was excruciating agony. 

_They must be alive. They must be safe. I will never see them again, but I wish I could at least know that much. I’d give anything for that._

”Edwin?” 

The word wasn’t exactly spoken, for he had no ears to hear it with. Even so, it was there, where there had previously been nothing. And here was something else as well, forming gradually before him. Light, blazing like a furnace, like the core of a sun. He could make out a shape, only vaguely humanoid at first, but gradually gaining finer detail. A woman made of light, reaching out for him. He wanted to speak, to call out for her, but he had no voice to speak with, despite his longing. It didn’t matter. She was here, she was still alive. 

_She’s like the sun._

”Edwin,” She said again, fiery tears rolling down incandescent cheeks like molten gold. ”I found you. _We_ found you. It’s not too late.” She moved her hand, and he could see something moving with it, drops of flowing blood woven into a fine lattice, sparkling with deep and powerful magic. It trailed off into the darkness, out of sight. ”Blood seeks blood,” She said. ”That’s how I could find you. He’s holding the path open, but he can only do that for so long. If you wait too long, it’ll be too late.” 

He wanted to reach out to her, more than anything else, but something held him back, made him falter. 

_She’s like the sun. Like a deva, enshrouded in flames. How can I touch her and not burn?_

”I love you,” She said, and he could see her eyes now, warm and familiar. ” _We_ love you. We need you. Don’t forget that, don’t ever forget that. Now take my hand, you idiot wizard, before it’s too late.” 

He did, and he had a hand to reach out with now, his soul reshaping itself into its familiar form out of the void. Tendrils of magically infused blood instantly snaked around his hand and arm, tethering them to hers, binding them together. They wrapped around the rest of him, anchoring him, then began pulling them through the emptiness, faster and faster. It wasn’t complete emptiness now, not anymore. There were millions of stars in the sky, all of them red. No, not stars, drops of blood, all of them glowing. They were forming a shape now, a vast black shape outlined by little red lights, devouring the nothing which had imprisoned him here. It was the shape of a gigantic black wolf, and as he was pulled closer he saw it move, turning an enormous head to look down at him with red eyes. 

”Got him!” His saviour shouted into the darkness. The web binding him tightened; the pull grew even stronger. That red eye was filling his entire field of vision now, and he was pulled through and out, screaming without a voice as the world suddenly exploded into sensation. Every breath hurt, but he was breathing, every noise was as loud as thunder, but he was hearing, and he could feel warm sunlight against his closed eyelids, warming his cold limbs. It was painful, but it was glorious pain, he felt real again, solid and real. 

Alive. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's baaaack! 
> 
> Also, to such as my friends as have played DnD with me, I would like it noted for posterity that fire is an excellent distraction and the fact that the entire guardhouse went up in flames should be counted as a bonus.


	179. Alive

**Cards Reshuffled 179 – Alive**

_So, if you’re fortunate enough to manage to save your lover from the clutches of the grave, what should you do afterwards? Quite a few things, I say, all of them private and adult by nature. Then you should do them again, more slowly, and possibly in reverse if you can manage that._

_Excerpt from ’Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Upon opening his eyes, Edwin first had no idea where he was. Blinking against the bright sunlight he couldn’t see much of anything, apart from blurry shapes leaning over him. He tried to move, to sit up, but found that this was more difficult than he’d expected. His arms and legs flopped as uselessly as a fish on dry land, and he couldn’t even raise his head, which seemed to be drooping across some sort of ledge which dug painfully into his neck. Then there were arms around him, and he was carefully lifted, then placed on a flat surface which was probably the ground. Yes, this was much better, even if he still couldn’t move properly. 

”What…” He croaked, then winced as even his own feeble voice boomed into his ears like a warhorn calling an army to battle. 

”Ssshh,” Another voice said, a blissfully familiar one, and now his ears seemed to be adapting apart from a lingering ringing noise. ”It’s all right, Dread Wizard. Everything’s all right now.”

”My Hellkitten,” Edwin whispered, and her could feel his mouth twitching into a smile. He’d never thought he’d have occasion to smile again. ”I’m alive?”

”Yes,” She smiled back at him, and he could finally start to make out her face now, such a beautiful sight. There were tears in her eyes, running down her cheeks, but she was smiling too, and he could feel her hands on him, smoothing back his hair, stroking his cheek. ”It wasn’t easy, not like in the stories where a big smooch would be enough to wake up the enchanted prince, shame really. But we made it. I can hardly believe we really made it!”

It took a heroic effort to force his aching and stiff muscles to cooperate, but Edwin did manage to turn his head, and now he saw his father hunched down on the floor slightly behind his lover. Dekaras was looking pale and exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes, and he was looking at Edwin in a strangely apprehensive manner. 

”Edwin,” He said. ”How are you feeling?”

”As if all the hordes of Rasheman just held a week-long dancing party on top of my mangled corpse and then fed it to their dogs,” Edwin honestly admitted. He could feel his smile broadening. ”Infinitely better than feeling nothing at all.” He cleared his throat, finally managing to at least partially sit up, with Zaerini’s support. ”Thank you, Father.”

”I meant only to…what?”

”For what you did,” Edwin said. These weren’t easy memories, but it needed to be said. ”Killing me. I know it was a terrible thing to ask, but it was all I could think of under the circumstances.”

Dekaras stared at him mutely for a few seconds, his face carefully immobile apart from a muscle twitching along the side of his jaw. Then he let his breath out very slowly, and wary tension seemed to leak out of him. ”I thought…I hoped that was what you intended. I feared I was wrong. I wouldn’t have blamed you for resenting me over it.”

”Nonsense!” Edwin protested, trying and failing to move. ”Never! How could you ever think that?”

”Oh honestly…” Zaerini said, rolling her eyes. She grasped the surprised assassin by the arm, and gave him a meaningful nudge. ”Do you both need me to spell it out for you? Go ahead then.”

Edwin was about to ask her what she meant, but then he was suddenly being held by them both, and he was holding both of them, and anything else was entirely irrelevant. He couldn’t talk at all, actually, a very strange condition to be sure, his throat seemed to be suddenly filled with warm wool, and his eyes were hot as well, burning hot. It didn’t matter, it was fine, more than fine, yes. It was perfect. It was life, and it was love, and that was all that mattered. 

_I’m so incredibly lucky, the Gods themselves ought to envy me for it._

-*-

It was a few hours later that day, and Edwin was resting comfortably in a bed at the Imnesvale Inn rather than on a cold stone slab. It was the inn’s finest room of course, and so it was tolerable even to refined Thayvian tastes. Though truth be told, with his current company he’d have been entirely content even in a rat-infested hovel. Zaerini was lying in the bed next to him, one of her arms resting across his chest, and although he’d so far been too exhausted after his ordeal to do anything other than rest he was beginning to feel that this was about to change. The fact that she was wearing very little was doing an admirable job when it came to energizing him, a fact which pleased him enormously. They weren’t entirely alone in bed though. On the pillow next to him a small monkey lay huddled, tiny hands clutching a strand of Edwin’s hair to his chest. Insufferable had been worryingly weak and sickly, too feeble to do anything more than open his eyes and give a small chirp when Edwin first picked him up, but seemed to be recovering along with his master. He’d managed to drink some water, and Edwin suspected he’d soon be able to coax him into eating something. The wizard carefully reached out a finger and rubbed his familiar’s fuzzy stomach and smiled as the little legs twitched. 

”So,” Zaerini said with a smile on her own, and her hand started trailing lazy patterns along his body. ”I guess I can’t compete with the monkey for your attention, but at least I’ve told you everything that happened now.”

”Yes, and I still cannot believe you two were foolhardy enough to provoke the Twisted Rune!” Edwin sternly told his lover. ”Haven’t you any idea how dangerous that is? (I’m dead for a mere few days and they run amok!)”

”Apart from you being dead, we were having fun,” She said with a wicked grin, and her hand was doing something now which effectively shut him up and also determined that he was very much alive by now. ”And we brought you a present too, isn’t it pretty?”

Edwin couldn’t help smiling as he looked upon the staff leaning against the bedpost. The elegant and tasteful gold and ivory design…the pattern of writhing dragons…above all the fine and intricate spells and enchantments woven into it. Yes, this was a proper staff for a wizard of his caliber. 

”Yes,” He said, and then remembered that he was supposed to be admonishing her. ”But you still shouldn’t have risked yourselves like that! It’s a very good thing I’m once again able to provide you with some restraint and forethought before anything disastrous occurs.”

”Uh huh.” She pressed herself a little closer to him. ”I feel all relieved now. Speaking of relief…”

”Mrifk!” Edwin gasped as all the blood in his brain seemed to suddenly abandon it for greener pastures. ”Didn’t you tell me I was supposed to be resting? (Not that I’m complaining.)”

”I think you seem rested enough,” She purred, gently nibbling his neck. ”If you think Suffy can be moved, that is.”

”Yes,” Edwin said, carefully placing the sleeping monkey on the nightstand so he wouldn’t get squashed by accident. The familiar never even stirred, but kept sleeping peacefully. ”He should be fine there, and I don’t expect he’ll wake up for several hours.” 

”Goody! And I think I will be fine right here.” With those words, she sat up, straddling him, her slender hands gripping his shoulders tightly. She gave him a mischievous look as she inched a little higher up, offering him a very attractive view of her naked body . ”What do you think?”

”Oh yes,” Edwin said, unable to take his eyes off her. ”That seems entirely right and appropriate to me.”

”Let’s see now,” Zaerini said. ”You seem pretty healthy, but I think I’d better check for myself that everything’s as it should be. Let’s start here.” She bent down, her lips warm and soft as they met his in an eager kiss, and her hands were stroking his chest, making it seem as if every single nerve-ending was about to explode with pleasure. He returned the kiss, his own fingers trailing through the soft curls of her red hair, then following the contours of her lightly pointed ears,and the limp tiredness he’d been feeling until now was melting away very rapidly indeed. Yes, he was anything but limp, thankfully, and feeling more than ready to take advantage of that fact. He let his hand wander up her side, and then towards her breast, testing and teasing, and was rewarded with seeing her skin flushing a rosy pink and feeling her muscles tensing at his touch. 

”For Edwin Odesseiron’s infamous Erotic Onslaught, a brief and temporary death can be merely a setback,” He said with a smug smile. ”You may feel free to cry out for mercy if it proves too devastatingly pleasurable, I wouldn’t want you to faint. (At least not just yet.)”

She looked down at him again, and the warm look in her eyes made him feel faint, and very, very hot. There were little beads of sweat on her forehead, and now she was inching a little higher up across his thighs, higher and higher, oh Gods, higher…yes, there, right there. 

”Shut up, Eddie,” She said with a loving smile, and Edwin gladly did. 

Time passed, in exquisite motion, warm and slick. He was breathing in the sweet scent of her breath, moving in time with her, every inch of his body wanting to touch every inch of hers at once. He tried to remember to take his time, to build her pleasure up as he well knew how to, to stoke her fires slowly. It was impossible, his body cried out for her touch, and he knew nothing else. No plans, no thoughts, nothing but her. Finally the pleasure built to its inevitable crescendo, and he could hold back no more. His mind exploded with white fire, and he thought he cried out, without words, before collapsing back into the bed. 

”I think you missed me,” Edwin panted, once he was finally able to speak again. There were still little sparkling lights flickering in front of his eyes, and his hearing felt oddly muted. His beloved was cuddled up next to him, fitting perfectly into the crook of his arm. ”Perhaps I should die more often, if this is the delightful end result of it?”

”You know I did,” She said, kissing his cheek. ”And no, you shouldn’t. You’re forbidden to die on me again, Edwin Odesseiron, just so you know it.”

”I love you,” He said, hugging her a little tighter. ”I am so sorry you had to suffer through all of that. ”

”I love you too, Edwin.” Her voice sounded a little thick, and her grip tightened as well. ”Very much.”

”Now, I need to adequately repay you for the past glorious moments, you enticing little succubus of my heart.” He reached out his hand, and yes, it was just as he’d thought. ”You’re not finished yet.”

”No rush!” She said with a sudden gasp and a quick giggle. ”If you rest a bit first, you can do even better, can’t you?”

”Mmm, yes, certainly.” Edwin smiled, thinking of the pleasant times ahead. ”We do have all night, after all. I will make you squirm and squeal yet, my love, you may count on it.”

”Looking forward to it. I’ve got a few ideas of my own too.” She gave him an impish smile. ”And Immy bought us a bottle of coconut oil. I’ve got plans for that. Sound good?”

For once in his life, Edwin had absolutely no objections to make. 

-*-

It was a couple of days later, and in one of the backrooms of the Five Flagons Theatre, an important conference was taking place, one which had already lasted several hours. A table had been pulled into the middle of the floor, its surface covered with various notes, maps, scribbled lists, and a large pot of coffee. Three rogues sat around the table, currently deep in thought as they pondered an important scheme.

”It’s no use, I’m stuck!” Zaerini finally declared, throwing up her hands in the air in exasperation. ”This seems impossible!”

”Not impossible,” Dekaras said, shaking his head. ”Merely extremely difficult. We have made some progress, remember that. For example, that one item you had the foresight to pick up during your excursion to the Sahuagin city is bound to come in handy for administration.”

”Maybe,” The half-elf said, still feeling rather disgruntled. ”And you say you’ve worked out how to create the poison?”

”It isn’t a poison, keep that in mind. You cannot poison somebody immune to poisons, or so they say. Such a thing would truly be impossible.” The assassin gave a satisfied little smirk. ”But yes, I can produce it and it should be enough to incapacitate the target for a while, if not kill him. Loopholes are there to be exploited after all, and I seriously have to question whether the person who set up that supposed ’immunity’ gave any thought to how a human body actually works.”

”The real problem is what do we do afterwards,” Rini said with a sigh. ”Even if we could kill him that’d be a really bad idea, what with certain super powerful friends of his. At least he won’t get to weasel out of it by that cheesy teleportation contingency spell of his. Unless he’s set up a new one…but I don’t think he’ll bother until his getaway is repaired. It’s not as if he’d think he’s got any reason to worry.”

”I can’t believe you guys crashed an actual moon,” Imoen said, her eyes very wide. ”And a moon belonging to El…”

”Careful!” Zaerini and Dekaras said in chorus. ”Don’t say his name.”

”Oops, sorry. He really can hear his name spoken from anywhere in the world and listen in to what’s said about him?”

”That’s what it says right here,” Rini said, holding up the long list given to her quite some time back by the surprisingly helpful elven trickster god, Erevan Illesere. ”First ability listed. First of many.” She ran her hand through her hair in exasperation. ”But it can’t be helped, after what Eddie did to his private getaway moon he’ll never give up until he’s had the revenge he promised, and he’ll do something horrible to him unless we stop him.”

”I seem to recall a story about a ’Scroll of Cow Kill’ which might have added to his displeasure,” Dekaras said, giving her a mild look. 

”Yeah, all right, that didn’t really make him happy either.”

”Maybe we should leave this for a bit,” Imoen suggested. ”My brain’s feeling all scrambled after all this plotting. Besides, there’s still Irenicus to deal with, remember? I think the others are all packed now.” She grinned. ”Even Edwin. How many robes does one wizard need anyway?”

”As many as it takes to adequately display my admirable male physique, you little pink pest,” Edwin’s voice said from the doorway. ”A man of my stature needs to look his best at all times, particularly if he wants to keep refined company. I wouldn’t expect you to understand this.” 

”Imoen is helping us to deal with a certain precarious situation you have placed yourself in,” Dekaras said, raising an eyebrow at the wizard. ”A certain amount of courtesy might be in order.”

”But…” Edwin said, looking utterly trapped now. He grimaced as Imoen blew a triumphant raspberry at him behind the assassin’s back. ”Do I have to?”

”I wouldn’t ask you to entirely curb your tendency towards verbal sparring, but let’s primarily focus on our enemies, yes?”

Edwin sighed, and for a moment it looked as if he was going to argue the point further, but then he gave a brief start. ”I very nearly forgot. This arrived just now, Father.” He held out a folded and sealed letter to Dekaras, then cleared his throat. ”It seems to be from Thay and it bears the official seal of the Tharchion. Are you expecting any communication from official sources?”

”No,” Dekaras said with a frown. He took the letter, and quickly opened it. As he read through it, Zaerini noticed that his face grew quite pale, and that his fingers were trembling slightly. 

”It’s bad news, isn’t it?” Edwin said, nervously fidgeting with his fingernails. ”I can tell. (Once in a while, just once, I’d like for a few days unmarred by fresh disaster. Is that so much to ask for?)

”You’d better sit down,” Dekaras said, his eyes still fixed on the letter. 

”What? Why? What is it?” The wizard had now turned just as pale as the assassin, and his voice was shaking. ”It’s Mother, isn’t it?”

”Sit down, Eddie,” Rini said, taking his hand and firnly guiding him to a chair. ”No, don’t argue, just do it, you look like you’re about to faint.”

”Yes,” Dekaras said, once Edwin had sat down. ”I fear the letter does concern your mother.” He cleared his throat. ”It seems that the Odesseiron family has opened an investigation into the disappearance of Master Galen. Your mother has been…accused. Accused of murdering him outright, or merely of spiriting him away somehow, it doesn’t say.” He gave the letter a dark look as if the piece of paper was to blame. ”She has been arrested, and this letter was sent through the Tharchion’s office. Apparently she is not allowed to communicate in person until she makes a full confession.”

”What!” Edwin sputtered, his face now turning an angry red. ”This is an outrage, a travesty of justice! This is…is…”

”This is Thay,” Dekaras cut him off. ”You know as well as I do, the power, influence and above all money of the Odesseiron brothers will carry a great deal of weight in the courts. Your mother’s family cannot muster forces enough to stand against them, and we cannot be certain they will even make the effort. No, I fear this comes down to us.” His eyes narrowed dangerously. ”The Odesseirons must be persuaded to withdraw their accusations, one way or another.”

”You’re quite right, of course,” Edwin said. His voice was lower now, with a lethal sting to it. ”She must be rescued, and then they must be made to pay, and pay dearly.” He gave a decisive nod. ”You should go to her, at once, and do what must be done.”

The assassin nodded. ”I had hoped to be able to aid you against Irenicus,” He said. ”A pity I cannot split myself in two, but…”

”You’ve got to go, we understand,” Rini said. ”It’s all right. There’s quite a few of us, but you’re the only one she can count on right now. Of course you must go.” She took Edwin’s hand, squeezing it tightly. His fingers felt cold, and his grip on her nearly hurt. ”We’ll squash Irenicus into a wet stain on the ground,” She said in as lighthearted a voice as she could muster. ”Then we’ll take my soul back, and who’s to say we can’t make a little sidetrip to Thay afterwards?” She gave her lover a warm smile. ”Edwin’s been telling me so many stories about it, I can’t wait to see it for myself.”

”Has he now?” Dekaras said, the corner of his mouth twitching a little. ”Yes, once your own affairs are in order, the trip will undoubtedly be worth your while. Depending on how long my own business takes, I may be able to rejoin you sooner, of course.” He gave the scattered papers on the table a quick glance. ”As for this little project of ours, we will be able to discuss it further once I get back from Thay.”

”You will be careful, won’t you?” Edwin said, giving the assassin a firm hug. 

”Of course I will, I always am.” He gave Edwin a serious look. ”Do not underestimate Irenicus. Your arcane skills have greatly increased since we departed for the Sword Coast, but he is still a formidable foe.”

Edwin opened his mouth, and for a moment he seemed about to reply with his usual bluster, but then he simply nodded. ”I won’t,” He said. ”I promise.”

”Good.” Dekaras met Zaerini’s eyes across Edwin’s shoulder, and she thought she could see an unspoken plea there. 

_Take care of him._

_I will_ , she thought, nodding. _I always will._

”So,” Imoen said in a tremulous voice. ”I guess this is goodbye then? For now, at least.”

”For now,” Dekaras agreed. ”Be well Imoen, and remember what I told you to do to Irenicus if you get the chance.”

The pink-haired girl gave him a quick smile, her blue eyes bright with unshead tears. ”I’ll try, if he even has those bits left anymore and hasn’t replaced them with something yucky. Ew, nasty. So, um, just take care, OK? Or I’d have to get mad at you, and angry Bhaalspawn are really ’Rawr Scary Smash Maul’, so you wouldn’t want that.”

”Perish the thought,” Dekaras said, looking entirely serious. ”Well, I had better get started, and that goes for you too. Whatever Irenicus is up to in Suldanesselar, you’ll want to put a stop to it as soon as possible.”

”Yes,” Zaerini said, nodding. ”Irenicus has been kept waiting for long enough.” She stood. ”It’s about time for an ending now.” She felt a bit of fear at that thought, and anger as she recalled all the things the masked mage had done to her and her friends, but one feeling stood out above the others. Exhilaration, and anticipation. _Yes. Irenicus, you don’t know it yet, but your time’s up. I will have my soul back. You didn’t know what kind of mistake you made when you messed with me, I guess. But you WILL learn._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure everything will be just fiiiiiine!


	180. Suldanesselar

**Cards Reshuffled 180 – Suldanesselar**

_If there’s one thing you can always count on when it comes to facing a dangerous monster, it’s this. Nothing, and I mean nothing, ever goes exactly according to plan. Once something goes hideously wrong, and it will, you’d better hope you can improvise._

_Excerpt from ’Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

”And you’re sure this will work?” Zaerini said as she gave the Rhynn Lanthorn a skeptical look. It didn’t look like a vastly magical item which could reveal a city hidden away by powerful spells. It looked like a lamp, similar to one a stablehand might use, though with more curly ornamental decorations on it. 

”It was made with the ancient magics of the People,” The elven warcaptain Elhan said, not meeting her eyes. He was holding the Lanthorn aloft, peering at it intently. ”Your ignorance of such things is understandable as you are not one of us, but you are about to be enlightened.”

”A simple ’yes’ would have been enough,” Rini muttered, swatting a mosquito away from her arm. The forest of Tethyr was an oppressive place, with enormous trees which blotted out nearly all hints of sunlight, and stuffy air. It was warm as well, too warm for her liking. 

”Aha,” Elhan said as soft white light flared around the Lanthorn. ”Behold, strangers. The path is opening. You are about to set foot in Suldanesselar, a rare honour for those not of the People.”

_Yeah, yeah, I get it. I’m not one of you. Too bad you need my help to fix your mess, isn’t it?_

”How marvellous,” Edwin said in his most acid voice. ”We’re getting invited to go play in a gargantuan treehouse. I must brace myself so as not to faint from the emotional impact of viewing something a tribe of monkeys might have slapped together.”

”You…” Elhan started to say with an angry scowl, but then he fell silent. The Lanthorn’s glow was spreading towards one of the gargantuan trees, forming an outline against its trunk. It was taking on the shape of a door, and it was filling with light, the tree seemingly melting away with no noise or fuss. ”Enter,” Elhan said with a curt nod to Zaerini and her friends. ”The path to Suldanesselar is open. Rillifane give I do not regret bringing you here.” 

As she stepped through the door, Rini’s first impression was light, green light. She was standing on a tree branch as broad as a street, even though she’d been on the ground before. Up here, closer to the sky, there was lighting coming through the leaves, dappled green light that moved and wavered as the top branches stirred in the wind. The air wasn’t as stuffy, but there was a strong smell of smoke and sulphur, and she startled at the sound of a loud crash as something struck the branches above her, setting some of them on fire. She could hear screams as well, off in the distance somewhere, and other noises, snarls and growls. The tree branch led onto a platform surrounded by a low fence of interwoven, still growing branches, and further off in the distance she could see houses. They were tall and white, with gleaming spires in gold and silver. 

”It is as I feared and worse,” Elhan said, motioning for his group of elves to move through the portal and onto the platform. ”That madman Irenicus has unleashed corruption magics upon the city, those foul spirits called the Rakshasa and who knows what else.”

”You still haven’t told us why he’d want to do this,” Rini said. She’d had a hint or two, things seen and heard, but more details would be nice before she faced her enemy. ”Seems he’s pretty pissed with you all, and with Queen Ellesime in particular.”

”There is no time for idle chatter!” Elhan snapped. ”Innocent elves are in danger, whoever can be saved must be evacuated. My men and I will secure this area, and you can send whoever you happen to find alive to us.”

”You’re going to stand around here with all your men and let the six of us do all the work?!” Anomen sounded quite incredulous and more than a little outraged. ”Have you no shame, man?”

”It should come as no great surprise, dear Anomen,” Jaheira said, giving Elhan a sharp smile. ”It is not as if he wanted to try himself against Bodhi, so no doubt the very thought of facing Irenicus makes him swoon.”

”I’ll have you know I’m a very important official in Her Majesty’s following and cannot be risked,” Elhan said. 

”It is all right, little elf,” Minsc said, giving Elhan a kind pat on the back. ”Not all can be Heroes like Minsc and Boo and Minsc’s Witch and all of Minsc’s good friends. Perhaps the little elf can write a heroic ballad instead, to sing of our glorious deeds after we return? Make sure to mention Boo’s sharp white teeth, that makes him happy.”

”Pft, Rini can make up a better one than he can,” Imoen said, crooking her arm through the half-elf’s and dragging her off towards the walkway leading to the next platform. ”Who needs him, anyway?”

”Seek out Ellesime!” Elhan shouted after them as they walked off. ”She is the daughter of Rillifane himself, she will be able to help. Failing that, seek High Priestess Demin. If anyone had warning of Irenicus’ attack and was able to prepare themselves, it would be one of those two.”

”Finally some useful advice,” Rini said a few minutes later, dodging the sweeping sword of a charging Rakshasa warrior as Minsc decapitated the creature. Warm blood sprayed her face, making her sneeze. ”Except of course he didn’t tell us where to find them.”

”I might have an idea,” Imoen said. She gave a quick whoop as one of her arrows struck another Rakshasa straight in the eye. ”When Vadrak and I went here before, we learnt the layout of the city. If they haven’t changed things too much when they rebuilt it, the priest quarters are at the southern end, and the temple to Rillifane is to the east. The royal palace is in the center of the city.”

”I suspect they will have kept the city as unchanging as possible,” Jaheira said. ”Elves live long lives, they usually do not want to alter things too quickly. If it was possible to rebuild the city the way it was after Irenicus set it ablaze, I think they would have.”

”I don’t think he meant for it to catch fire,” Imoen said with a quick frown. ”I think he messed up somehow.”

”You said before that he wanted something from Ellesime?” Rini asked. ”The…Tree of Life was it? Sounds pretty powerful.”

”I guess. He wanted to use it for his magic somehow. She said ’no way’, basically. Things got really ugly after that.”

”Yes, I remember you telling me,” Rini said. Irenicus declaring he was already tied to the Tree’s power, Ellesime invoking strong magic to repel him, and the clash of their wills resulting in the devastating fire. _But there’s something else, one part of the story is missing._ ”Lead on, Immy. If you can find your way to the priest quarters, let’s go there first. Looks like they’d be closer than the palace.” 

Irenicus had definitely made an effort to cripple the elven city. Groups of Rakshasa prowled the streets with their deadly spells and swords, but they weren’t alone. The group of adventurers had to fight their way past several large golems as well, and even a couple of summoned demons. 

”Remember back when we’d just left Candlekeep?” Imoen said in a quiet voice to the half-elf as they stepped across the fallen body of a very dead demon. The corpse was oozing black goo and had a very surprised look on its face. ”When we nearly got killed by gibberlings? Who’d have thought we’d ever be roaming around a place like this, killing demons?”

”I know what you mean,” Rini said with a nod. ”I wonder what Gorion would think if he could see us now.” _I hope he wouldn’t be too disappointed in me._

”He’d tell you to go kick Irenicus’ butt from here to Beregost, and then set it on fire,” Imoen said, giving her hand a quick squeeze. ”And we will. We’re all here for you, sis. Whatever happens.”

”I know,” Rini replied, trying to smile. ”I can feel it, you know. My soul. He’s not right here, but he’s somewhere close, and I can feel it…pulling at me. I can’t explain it any better than that. I guess I’ll have to somehow…oh yuck, look at those poor things!”

The ’poor things’ were a couple of dead elves, their skulls and most of their bodies squashed so flat that they looked as if a house had been suddenly dropped on top of them. Despite everything she’d seen, the sight of it still made Zaerini swallow hard. Not soldiers these, civilians from the look of their clothing. 

”More deaths to be laid at Irenicus’ feet,” Jaheira said, her eyes hard. ”Innocent casualties of this little ’diversion’ he’s using to keep the elves busy while he does what he came here for.”

”Let’s hope this Demin is alive still. Any help would be welcome, it’s not as if we’ve found many elves in any shape to fight. Are we almost there, Immy?”

”Almost,” Imoen said. ”It’s that big house over there, with the shiny roof which looks like a conchshell, see?” She pointed at the building in question, and as she did so a sharp scream sounded from within. It was a woman’s scream, shrill and panicked. 

”Hurry!” Jaheira shouted as she took off at a run towards the building. ”Or it may be too late!”

The priest quarters were just as shiny inside as out, making Rini feel as if she’d stepped inside a giant pearl. The entry hall was illuminated by a large globe of soft silver magelight hanging high up under the ceiling, and a small marble fountain was bubbling soothingly. A dark-haired elven woman was pressed up against the wall, with the fist of a very large demon closed tightly around her throat. Its deep red skin was covered with large lumps and blotches and was coming loose in places. Presumably the priestess had managed to put up a fight. 

”Stop your squealing, mortal!” The demon growled. ”Tell me what I want to know!”

”Never!” The elf gasped, her voice almost inaudble. ”I will not…betray…”

The demon probably would have answered at this point, but it never got that far. It was simultaneously struck by several Magic Missiles from Edwin and Zaerini, a couple of poisoned arrows from Imoen, a crushing blow from Anomen’s flail to its backside, Jaheira’s quarterstaff across the back of its legs, and finally a powerful swing from Minsc’s sword which nearly cleaved the demon in two. It fell to the floor with a heavy ’thump’, and various oddly shaped and rather disgusting things sloshed out of it and onto the pristine floor. 

“Th-thank you for your assistance, strangers,” The elven woman said. Her voice was hoarse and rasping, and there were nasty bruises along her throat. She cautiously touched them, and as she murmured the words of a healing spell the bruises and swelling gradually faded. “I am Demin, High Priestess of Rillifane, the Leaflord. Forgive me for asking, but how do you come here? Few outsiders make their way to Suldanesselar, and with the Exile’s magic hiding us it is even more surprising.”

“Long story,” Zaerini said with a sigh. “Really long, and not very nice. What’s important is that I need to find Irenicus, the one you call the Exile. I’ve got a score to settle with him, a big one. I guess you call him the Exile because he was once one of you, but the more you can tell me about him the better off we’ll both be, trust me. Elhan was acting as if I’d spat on his mother’s grave, so I guess there’s some dirty linen he didn’t want to air, isn’t there?”

“I see,” Demin said, blinking. “Elhan is…like many here and would prefer not to let any outsiders learn of our shame. I disagree, for what good is keeping it secret if our city, our people, all are destroyed? So, I will tell you what I can.” She paused briefly. “This is difficult. You are not an elf.”

“Oh really?” Rini said. “Gods no, I wonder when that happened. Did my ears maybe shrink in the laundry or something?”

“I do not intend it as an insult,” Demin hurried to say. “What I meant was, as you are not an elf it may seem strange to you that we are so reluctant to speak of this. The Exiles, Irenicus and Bodhi, they were once of our people, as you know. They were valued among us, particularly he. He was the greatest of our mages, as great as it is possible to be without divine assistance. He even had the favour of the Queen. It was not enough for him. He sought greater power, the power of the gods. Perhaps Bodhi influenced him, perhaps it was him all along, I do not know. The outcome was the same, he sought to drain the power of the Tree of Life, our connection with Rillifane and the greatest symbol of our longevity. In a dark ritual, he sought to merge his essence with the Tree, and though he ultimately failed the consequences were disastrous, causing the deaths of many of our people.”

“And so you exiled him. Except that wasn’t all you did, was it? He’s not exactly a normal elf.”

“No,” Demin said with a brief shudder. “He is not an elf at all, not anymore. As Queen, it fell to Ellesime to judge his crime, and she was harsh. She petitioned the Seldarine, and the gods granted her what she asked of them. As the Exiles had shown themselves not to be true elves at heart, their connection to the elven spirit was severed.”

“So,” Jaheira said, her voice thoughtful. “They were no longer immortal. They would be denied passage into Arvanaith, cut off from the elves in body and soul, in life and in death.”

“Yes. Ellesime judged it a punishment worse than death. Their lives would be no longer than a human’s, and they would be denied the paradise that would otherwise have been their right. As you are not elves, you cannot fully comprehend what it means, but…”

“I understand enough,” Rini interrupted the priestess. “Basically, you took their souls. I know how that feels, since Irenicus took mine to replace his. That was after he kidnapped and tortured me and my friends for a few months, by the way. As you haven’t had that happen to you, I bet you can’t ‘fully comprehend’ what that was like. Maybe a few months is like the blink of an eye to an elf, but let me tell you, to me they lasted quite some time.”

“I…am truly sorry,” Demin said. She actually sounded as if she meant it, and Zaerini felt some of her anger dissipate. Some, if not all. “It was a mistake, yes. Ellesime’s hope was that he would learn humility, that he would come to appreciate what he had lost and in time, make his way back to us.”

“You put a divine curse on him which made him slowly rot, or possibly mummify,” Edwin said with a small sneer. “You removed his soul, shortened his lifespan, and then sent him off with a pat on the head and told him to not be a naughty boy again. And now you are surprised that he didn’t come back home crying for forgiveness. Are all elves this dense, or does your lot ritually bang themselves on the head with rocks for religious purposes?” 

Demin deflated a little, seeming to shrink into her white and indigo robe. “It did sound a lot more plausible when Ellesime explained it.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Rini said. “Does Her Majesty think she might get off her royal arse and do something about this mess now he’s back?”

“Would that I knew,” Demin said. “She has not been seen since the invasion started, and Irenicus has placed strong warding spells around the royal palace, making it impossible to get in. I do not think she is dead though; I believe he is holding her there for his own purposes.”

“Whatever the case may be,” Jaheira said, “If he is in the palace, that is where we must go.”

“Yes,” Demin nodded. “I believe I can help you, at least a little. There is a ritual which can be performed in the Temple of Rillifane. It will awaken his avatar. It is intended only for emergencies, and it will surely break the wards, perhaps more than that.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”

“Sadly, performing the ritual requires certain sacred artifacts.”

“Let me guess,” Rini said. “You lost them.”

“Yes. There are three, a talisman of Rillifane, a golden cup, and a moonblade. They are scattered within the city, most likely held by the Exile’s minions.”

“And you have no idea where.”

“Perhaps,” Demin said, biting her lip. “Perhaps one of them.”

“Do tell. And please say it’s somewhere nice and safe, like in…a safe!”

“I think perhaps the black dragon Irenicus set up to guard the glade in the northwest might have one,” Demin whispered, looking at her feet. 

For a few seconds, Rini just looked at the priestess. “Fine,” She eventually said. “That’s great. Just kill a dragon and find a few random items in a city overrun with monsters. All in a day’s work, that. Let’s go guys, we’d better not waste any time. We wouldn’t want to keep Irenicus waiting in case he wants an audience when he’s on his knees asking Ellesime’s forgiveness…”

-*-

”Right,” Zaerini said, using a stick and some charcoal which had previously been a Rakshasa warrior to draw a crude picture on the ground. ”So, it’s a dragon. Let’s talk tactics.” The party had grouped up on the platform closest to the clearing where Demin had said the dragon had taken up residence, and were preparing for battle. 

”Standard dragon tactics will apply, of course,” Jaheira offered, carefully tucking a strand of golden-brown hair back inside her helmet. ”Minsc, as our strongest warrior, will try to keep its attention focused on himself as much as possible.”

”Boo will help, with taunting hamster cries of battle!” Minsc agreed. ”His steely glare will strike fear into the hearts of men and beasts alike.”

”Yes, quite,” Jaheira went on, pointing at the drawing. ”So if Minsc tries to position it like so, Anomen and myself can take up positions here, where we are close enough to heal both him and the rest of you as needed. It will also enable us to strike the dragon ourselves, when we have the time for it. I suggest the rest of you keep at whatever maximum range your spells or bows will allow. That includes you, Imoen. A dragon’s tail swipe is a nasty thing, and if you get into melee range you run a larger risk of being hurt. Do spread out from each other as much as you can, but make certain you also keep in range of myself and Anomen. Naturally, also keep well away from its breath, whatever you all do. Now, this is supposedly an older and more powerful dragon than the ones we’ve faced thus far, so we must also be prepared for other things. It might summon minions, for example. If so, I will attempt to deal with those, though that will force you, Anomen, to heal by yourself. Can you handle that?”

”Certainly,” The priest said with a calm nod. ”Helm has graciously granted me greater power as of late, and unless people insist on standing about in the fire, all should be well.”

”Acid, I believe, with a black dragon,” Jaheira mused. ”Do we still have any protection scrolls against acid? Ah, excellent. We will use those then, along with any other protective spells we can muster. Now, if the dragon should attempt some form of magical attack, it will fall to you, Edwin, to counterspell it as quickly as you can. Also, do not neglect lowering its resistance to magical attacks before you do anything else.” She gave the wizard a pointed look. ”Your utility spells will be just as needed here as your damaging ones, remember that.”

”Pah,” Edwin snorted. ”That will not take me long, and I will still wreak havoc on the beast with my most devastating array of supreme spells afterwards.” He gave Zaerini and Imoen a challenging grin. ”You may attempt to keep up if you please, but it will be a waste of effort. (I wish there was some manner of adequately measuring the full and impressive power of my destructive forces as I unleash them, for the sake of comparison.)”

”Sounds like a challenge to me,” Rini replied with a smile of her own. ”You’re on. Just don’t get so carried away that you stand in the acid pools, ok? Remember, you’re not allowed to die again.”

”Quite so,” Jaheira agreed. ”And if you do, don’t even try to complain about lacking healing. I will be utterly unsympathetic to that. Now, Imoen, I would like you to…Imoen?”

”Huh?” The young rogue said, startling a little. ”Did ya say something?”

”What are you doing instead of paying attention?” Jaheira asked her, walking over to peek across the younger woman’s shoulder. She frowned. ”I thought you were taking notes. Is that…is that a game of Tic-Tac-Toe you’re playing? Against yourself?”

”Heh heh…” Imoen said, hurriedly stuffing her small notebook away inside her pack. ”Sorry. So, don’t stand in bad stuff, do lots of damage to dragon and anything else nasty what turns up, and don’t die. Is that it? No jumping through hoops of fire or dodging tornadoes or anything?”

”Well, yes, but…”

”Gotcha! Same as usual then, is it time to go now?”

”I guess it is,” Zaerini agreed. ”Unless you had anything else to add, Jaheira?"

”No,” The druid said with a brief sigh. ”No, I suppose not. Do focus now, try not to die, and stick with the plan.”

As the adventurers entered the clearing, Zaerini was surprised to see how large it was. It seemed the elves had somehow managed to make a small forest grown on the huge branches of the trees they’d built their city in. A dense cluster of trees and underbrush surrounded an open space with long, thick, emerald-green grass, soft to walk upon and sweet smelling. There was another smell though, one which was anything but sweet. 

”Phaugh,” Anomen whispered. ”It stinks like a swamp. And where is that dragon?”

”Black dragons are swamp dwellers,” Edwin said, not taking his eyes off the forest surrounding them. ”And they are notorious for being sneaky, far more so than other dragons.”

”So…” Rini said, not liking the implications of this. ”You’re saying it could be anywhere, right now. Watching us.” The stench was so thick she could barely breathe, and the wind was hot and fetid as it ruffled her hair. An odd sort of wind it was, very rhythmical, and seemingly changing directions back and forth. Then there was a sound, somewhere above her, a muffled snort. She felt the hairs at the back of her neck prickling as she saw her friends slowly backing away, weapons drawn. ”I don’t want to turn around right now, do I?”

”Wandering heroes?” An eager voice said somewhere above her head. Something hot and wet dripped onto her neck, stinging and searing. ”Good. These elves have so little flesh on their bones.”

”Er, hi there,” Rini said, turning now even as she tried to take a few steps backwards without being too obvious about it. The dragon was large, yes. It towered above her, with a gaunt, oddly hollow face sneering down at her from the end of its long, serpentine neck. It had horns, sharp, curved hornes curling down towards its cheeks, and its teeth looked quite long and sharp as well. _Drat it. This isn’t the right dragon combat positon at all, not with us all bunched up in front of its mouth. I’d better try to distract it._ ”Look, you don’t want to eat us, do you? Wouldn’t you much rather eat, say, Irenicus?”

”Why?” The dragon asked, its tail swishing idly back and forth. ”He is the one who brought me here. He said I could eat all the elves I wanted.”

”The nerve of him! The gall! Telling a grand dragon such as yourself what he…”

”She.” 

”Right, what she can do, sorry. Such an insult, treating you as his minion! For that, you should rip him apart and eat him slowly.”

The dragon pondered this for a moment and bent her head down to have a closer look. ”Maybe later,” She said, licking her chops. ”I think I’ll kill you first. My young are hungry, and you look nicely soft and tasty. Mmm, yes. If I chew on you a bit first, they’ll love you.”

”Nobody chews on Minsc’s Witch!” Minsc roared, his sword striking the dragon’s nose so that she shied back with a growl of pain. ”Go for the eyes, Boo, go for the eyes!”

Rini couldn’t see if the little hamster actually followed that command or not. She was far too busy trying to put some distance between herself and the dragon’s sharp teeth and claws. If only she could get out of range, she thought she might manage to hit an eye, with or without Boo’s help. The dragon, however, had other ideas, and it kept following her, its gait swift and somehow slithering. A large and clawed foot kicked Minsc out of the way, and though the ranger immediately got to his feet and charged after the dragon it more or less ignored him. Perhaps it knew that its scales were so thick that his sword wouldn’t do much damage to it, or perhaps it really had its heart set on half-elf flesh. 

_That’s so unfair_ , Rini thought as she ran, dodging and weaving to try to avoid the sudden lunges the dragon made for her. _Now Eddie will win the contest._ As if in answer to that thought, she could hear loud crashes, and glimpse flashing light out of the corner of her eye. The feel of magical currents was strong, making her own brain tingle. She had no idea what spell it had been, but the dragon was definitely still coming after her and didn’t seem to be hurt. 

”HA!” It roared. ”YOUR PATHETIC MAGIC BETRAYS YOU!” Its voice was very loud, very shrill, and made Rini feel as if somebody had just dragged a knife across a blackboard. Then there was another surge of magic, and this time the dragon roared with pain. _Whew, he remembered to make it vulnerable to magic first. It’s ok, Eddie, I don’t care if you win, can you please kill it now? Please?_

She had no idea what her other friends were doing, had no time to do anything but run and dodge the dragon as best as she could. She could feel more magical surges, and could hear shouts, but above anything else she could hear the very large dragon chasing her. At least it hadn’t taken flight. Now and again she could also hear it inhale, and she’d be forced to leap suddenly to the side as its mouth expelled large quantities of burning acid. Already the grass was charred in many places, and there were pools of acid all over the clearing, pools she very well knew that she couldn’t afford to step in, with or without protective magic. 

”DARKNESS CONSUME YOU!” The dragon screamed, and now she couldn’t see where she was going anymore. It was as if a black blanket had suddenly settled all over the clearing, blocking out all light. _At least the dragon can’t see me either. Can it?_ She could make out her friends though, her elven sight letting her see hazy outlines of them, created by their bodyheat. _But where’s the…_ A loud growl interrupted her thoughts. It was closer than it had been just a second ago. _Crap. Dragons are cold-blooded, aren’t they? I can’t see it, but it can see me. Or smell me. Either way, run away, run awayrunawayrunaway!_

She tried, but she couldn’t run as fast as before, not when she couldn’t see a thing, and she couldn’t hold back a sudden squeal of pain as acid sloshed around her ankles. She wouldn’t be able to keep this up, not without being able to see where she was going. Then, the darkness shifted into a deep red which kept brightening into burning orange, and then a blinding light. 

”Stand back, foul beast!” Anomen shouted, blazing sunlight flaring around him where he was stood at the other side of the clearing. ”The light of Helm sear your black heart!” 

Feeling a fierce wave of gratitude towards the priest, Rini ran on, once again able to see where she was going. Even better, the dragon was moving a bit more slowly now, stumbling as if the strong sunlight had partially blinded it. _I’m nearly at the edge of the clearing. If I get into the bushes, it might have a harder time following me._ She dared a glimps across her shoulder, and saw that although the dragon was still chasing her, her friends were pelting it with swords, arrows and spells. It was bleeding here and there, but it didn’t look as if it was about to die just yet, and it still was fixating on her. 

”SISTERS AND BROTHERS OF THE FANG!” The dragon yelled. ”AID YOUR MISTRESS!”

_Oh crap, that can’t be good. It sounds like it might be…_

An angry hiss made the half-elf falter and nearly fall. She’d been about to step on a flat head, a flat head with yellow eyes and needle-sharp fangs dripping venom. It wasn’t the only one either. Thick, coiling bodies were slithering out of the bushes now, dozens of them. 

_Snakes. Great. It just had to be snakes, didn’t it?_

She ducked out of the bushes again. Much as she didn’t like getting any closer to the dragon, stepping on snakes seemed an equally bad idea. Somewhere to her side, she could hear Jaheira’s voice chanting, and then Anomen’s. Some of the snakes, confused by the druid’s powers, turned on their fellows, biting and strangling, even as the earth groaned and shook, consuming others. A group of skeletons clawed themselves out of the tortured soil, obediently laying into the snakes. _Oh, clever move, Ano. Venom won’t hurt them._ The snakes were going down fast, and the dragon didn’t seem to like this one bit. 

”LITTLE VERMIN!” It roared. ”FEEL THE STING OF YOUR KIND!” What looked like a dark cloud rose from the grass and the bushes, and the air was filled with a loud, buzzing noise. 

_Oh no, now what? Oh…ow! Ouch! Ow!_ Only the burning itch in her throat and the ache in her straining lungs made the bard keep her curses silent rather than loud. Mosquitoes, stinging flies, and gods know what else descended upon her and her friends, sneaking into any cracks they could find in their armour. Somewhere to her far right, she could hear Edwin’s next spell break down into a long litany of swearwords as the bites and stings made it entirely impossible to focus on spellcasting. _We’ve got to end it soon, somehow. If somebody gets hurt now, no healing spells will come through._

Tightening her run into a smaller circle, the bard ran in closer to the dragon’s tail. She hoped that might confuse it, and being so large it shouldn’t be able to turn as quickly as she could. _Maybe I can make it trip over its own feet, then we could kill it and…AAAAAAAAH!_

The dragon’s tail had lashed out, catching her unawares. As it struck her across the back of her knees it expertly hurled her into the air, higher and higher. Then she reached the top of her trajectory and started to descend. Down and down, seemingly faster and faster, heading directly for a wide open mouth. Already she could feel the dragon’s hot breath, the stench of it overpowering so close. 

”NO! NO EATING OF LITTLE RINI! BAD DRAGON!” Minsc had caught up with the dragon, and preoccupied as it had been with catching its chosen prey it hadn’t noticed. The large man raised his sword, and this time it struck true, burying itself in the heaving black chest. It wasn’t a killing blow, not quite, having missed the heart, but the dragon still roared in pain, and jerked to the side. Instead of it catching the falling half-elf in its mouth, she landed on its neck, near the base of its skull, just barely managing to cling on. The dragon was trying to dislodge her, shaking its head this way and that, but it also had to deal with trying to fend off its other attackers and couldn’t spare her much attention. Finally it spread its wings, the strong gust of them temporarily hurling Minsc, Jaheira and Anomen to the ground and stopping their efforts at finding a vulnerable spot. Rini was holding on for dear life to the spikes along the dragon’s skull, certain of only one thing. If she fell off, she’d definitely die, and at least where she was now it couldn’t bite her so maybe this was her best chance. Then, the air was rushing around her and the ground rapidly was disappearing far beneath her as the dragon’s strong wings carried them both high into the air. The voices of her friends faded into nothing within seconds.

_Oh crap. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap._

Suldanesselar was spread out far below, a glittering gem nestled among the branches of trees larger than any she had ever seen before. It should have been a beautiful sight, but in her current situation she had little appreciation for it. The dragon was heading towards the centre of the city, where she could see a large building which surely was the royal palace, surrounded by a large open plaza. Maybe it meant to seek out Irenicus, or maybe it just meant to land somewhere safe where it could scrape off its passenger. Either way, she’d be very, very dead. It was now or never. She needed to find a vulnerable spot, and she needed to find it fast, for the dragon was already beginning to descend again. She’d lost her sword somewhere during the chase, and although the insects had been whisked away by the wind she didn’t trust herself to be able to cast a spell with one hand while riding an angry dragon. There was only one thing to do. Just barely managing to hold on, she gingerly reached into the quiver slung across her back, and pulled out an arrow. She didn’t need to use them often these days, since her enchanted bow would create magical ones whenever she drew it. Still, she’d thought it would be good to keep a few on reserve. Particularly special ones, such as this one. The frost enchantment laid on it made it cold to the touch, and she knew that if she touched the tip, the skin on her fingers would come clear off. It would do. 

”How’s this…” She panted, hauling herself up a little higher on the dragon’s head. ”For a…vulnerable spot?” 

She thrust the arrow straight into the large, unblinking eye beneath her, as far in as she could, twisting and turning it, deeper and deeper. The dragon didn’t just roar this time, no, it screamed in agony, and jerked to the side. Rini felt her stomach lurching dangerously as the dragon thrashed and rolled around in midair, but somehow she just barely managed to hold on and drive the arrow deeper. It went past the jelly of the eyeball which froze and splintered at its passage, past the thin bone behind and further. She was up to her elbow in dragoneye now, but she was getting there, yes, into the brain. The dragon screamed again, and grunted, its wings now thrashing uncontrollably. In fact, it wasn’t flying as such any longer, but falling, just barely managing to glide a little. 

_Oh. Shit. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea…_

The ground was rushing up towards her, the spires of Ellesime’s royal palace looming higher and higher, and here was the gate to the palace coming straight for them, faster and faster…

There was a sound like thunder as the dragon smashed straight through not merely the gate, but the outer wall of the palace and all of the spells Irenicus had placed around it. Bricks and mortar came crashing down around it as part of the wall collapsed, and it gave a final pained grunt, then expired, its tail and legs still twitching even in death. 

_Ok, so maybe Eddie did more damage to it_ , Zaerini thought, her thoughts very muffled and confused. She was still holding on to the dead dragon’s neck, her fingers refusing to let go. _But I got the killing blow, that’s got to count for something, right?_


	181. Irenicus

**Cards Reshuffled 181 – Irenicus**

_In a fight to the death, the only rule is to forget about the rules._

_Excerpt from ’Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Zaerini thought she might have passed out for a bit, and no surprise that after her recent dragonflight with ensuing crashlanding. When she did open her eyes again, she was still lying sprawled across the dead dragon, one of the spines on its neck poking uncomfortably into her side. 

_I’d better move_ , she thought as she rolled over onto her back. _The others must be looking for me, I need to get back to them and let them know I’m all right._ She sat up with a small groan, unsure which part of her body ached the most. At least there were no monsters in the immediate vicinity. Whatever Irenicus was doing inside the royal palace he must be too busy to pay attention to dragons crashing into its gate. The wind was increasing in strength, stirring not merely the smaller branches high above but even making the great ones under her feet tremble a little. It was shaking leaves off the branches as well, making them dance and spin in the air. 

CHILD OF BHAAL…HERE? YOU TRULY MAKE THE EARTH TREMBLE BENEATH YOU. 

The voice was on the wind, but it was somehow inside her very bones as well, making itself felt as much as heard. With a small gulp, the half-elf saw the spinning leaves gathering in front of her, forming a face. It rippled as the leaves moved, but she didn’t think it looked entirely pleased. 

”Uh…Rillifane?” She said, remembering what the priestess Demin had said. ”Sorry about crashing the place, we were going to do this ritual to let you know what’s going on with Irenicus attacking the city and this dragon kind of made a mess of things.”

THE DRAGON’S FALL BROKE THROUGH SEVERAL OF THE SPELLS WARDING THIS PLACE. NO RITUAL WILL BE NECESSARY. THE EXILE IS HERE?

”Yes,” Rini said, nodding quickly. ”He’s hidden himself in the palace, with Ellesime, and his monsters are attacking the city. Can you help? Demin thought you would.”

The avatar was silent for a moment, and when it next spoke its voice was a little softer than before. I WILL SAVE MY CHILDREN FROM THE FIENDS WHO SEEK TO SLAY THEM. THE ELVES OF SULDANESSELAR WILL BE BROUGHT TO SAFETY. AS FOR THE EXILE AND YOURSELF, I MAY NOT INTERFERE, NOT EVEN ON BEHALF OF ELLESIME. WE ARE FORBIDDEN TO TAKE PART IN THE BATTLES OF THE BHAALSPAWN. BUT, I WILL DO WHAT I CAN. YOUR FRIENDS ARE SEARCHING FOR YOU. I WILL BRING THEM HERE. GO SWIFTLY, CHILD OF BHAAL. THE EXILE’S RITUAL IS NEARLY COMPLETE. 

There was another strong gust of wind, and the leaves were thrown high into the air, then carried away. From far away in the city, Rini could hear screams of pain and terror, and these screams didn’t belong to elves. Whatever Rillifane’s avatar was doing to the Rakshasa invaders, she didn’t think they liked it much. 

”Rini!” As the bard turned around, she was neatly tackled by a pink-haired thief. Imoen was hugging her so tightly she could bearly breathe, laughing at the same time. ”Oh wow, you’re ok, we were really worried! Edwin nearly threw up.”

”I did not!” Edwin protested. Then he was holding her as well, and she thought his fingers were trembling a little as he pulled her closer. ”Vexing woman, what have I told you about taking ridiculous risks like that? (My poor heart may never recover.)”

”Sorry,” Rini said, feeling rather weak in the knees and grateful of the supporting arms holding her. ”I didn’t mean…I mean, it was all part of my cunning plan of course, but I didn’t mean for you all to get worried.”

”Of course,” Jaheira said, her lips quirking into a slight smile. ”Well, it may not have been our smoothest kill, but at least the dragon is dead. And the Leaflord himself has taken notice of Suldanesselar's plight, it seems. It was good that he brought us here so we did not need spend time searching for you. Are you hurt in any way?”

”Only a bit, nothing too bad. Yeah you’re right, Rillifane is dealing with the Rakshasa, they shouldn’t cause any more trouble. All that’s left now is finding Irenicus.”

”He’ll be inside the palace somewhere,” Imoen said, looking around the partially destroyed ante-chamber the dragon had crushed into as it fell. ”Oh hey, look at this.” She pointed at a dry fountain, cracked in two by the dragon’s impact. There was a spiraling stone staircase underneath it, leading down into the unknown, and there was a faint green light coming up from whatever lay beneath. 

”I think this is it,” Rini said, staring at the staircase. She could feel…something. A pull, or a tug. _Irenicus. He’s there, with my soul._ ”Everybody ready?”

”I will be proud to stand at your side in this final battle, my friend,” Anomen said. ”Come what may, you have made my life richer, in many ways.” He turned his head slightly to smile at Jaheira. ”I have no regrets. I am more than ready.”

”I swore to Gorion long ago that I would help protect you,” Jaheira said, having returned Anomen’s smile. ”You may have grown beyond the need for a guardian, but I will be honored to fight for you, my friend. Also, there is the matter of the fallen. Khalid will be avenged today, that I swear.”

”Minsc goes where his Witch goes,” Minsc simply said, placing a large hand on her shoulder. ”Always, and the Very Evil Wizard will suffer the keen teeth of Hamster Justice today.”

”You and me, sis,” Imoen said, squeezing her hand tightly. ”From Candlekeep to here, I’ve got your back like you’ve got mine. Let’s go get your soul and show Irenicus why it’s a bad idea to mess with us, huh?”

”And let us do it in a lengthy and highly elaborate manner,” Edwin said, stepping closer to put his arm around her waist. He leaned in to kiss the tip of her ear, and she shivered slightly at his touch, instinctively pressing closer. ”My Hellkitten,” He said in a lower voice, so that only she might hear him. ”Zaerini. My love. He will not hurt you again, and every hurt he already inflicted, I will make him suffer tenfold. After this insignificant hedge-wizard has been taught to properly grovel to his betters, he will know pain such as to make children tremble at his fate for the next millennium or so.”

”I guess this is it then,” Rini said with a rather shaky smile. ”Come on, everyone. Let’s see what Irenicus has been up to.” 

_That’s right, Kitten_ , Softpaws told her. The cat wound herself around her ankles, purring quietly. _We’ll go play now._

_Shouldn’t that be ’kill’?_

_Kitten, they’re the same thing._ Softpaws slunk down the stairs, still purring. _Now, we hunt._

As she followed her familiar down the stairs, Zaerini was surprised to find that she was no longer inside Suldanesselar’s royal palace. Instead, the stairs lead her onto a treebranch out in the open, and as she looked up she could see more branches overhead. She had thought the trees she’d seen before were large, but this one was immense. The branch she was standing on was as thick as the trunks of the trees holding Suldanesselar’s buildings aloft, and she couldn’t even begin to guess how high up in the air she must be. 

”The Tree of Life,” Jaheira quietly said. ”There is very old and powerful magic here, tying the elves of this place to their home and their god.”

”I don’t see Irenicus anywhere,” Rini said, looking around in frustration. She was so close to her soul now, but if she had to search through this entire tree it might be too late once she found it. 

”Not Irenicus, no,” Anomen said. ”But we do have company.” He pointed at a female shape forming in the air before them, floating a little above the branch they were standing on. It was definitely the image of an elven woman, quite beautiful with golden hair and a determined face. She was wearing a long dress in white and gold, and on her head there rested a crown shaped like leaves. 

”You must be Ellesime,” Zaerini said, looking the woman up and down. The face was familiar, she’d seen it before, sculpted by a human man near Nashkel who’d been driven mad with desire for it. And she’d seen it before that, yes, though those memories were very faint and dim. 

”I am Ellesime, Queen of Suldanesselar,” The elf said. ”You…you are the Child of Bhaal are you not? The one Joneleth…Jon…boasted of stealing power from? He claimed to have slain you.”

”My name is Zaerini, thanks for asking,” Rini said, just a little sharper than she had originally intended. ”Zaerini of Candlekeep. Gorion’s adopted daughter, if you remember him.”

Ellesime blinked, but her face remained as smooth as before. ”Gorion,” She said. ”Yes. I remember.”

_He brought me here for help_ , Rini thought, not taking her eyes off the elf. _He brought me to many places, and they all turned us away. Turned me away. You did too._

Ellesime was the first to break the uncomfortable silence, and she sounded quite distressed as she did so. ”I am held in a cage at the centre of the tree, with Joneleth,” She said. ”This is as far as I can send my image. Joneleth…the one you call Irenicus…he is drawing the power from the Tree of Life into himself. There are parasites on the Tree, helping him. While they are doing that, he is impervious to harm, and I cannot break free. You must slay them! Once they are dead, I can sever Jon’s connection to the Tree, and he will be vulnerable.” Her voice rose in outright desperation. ”Do it quickly, Child of Bhaal! I feel the Tree weakening!” The image winked out, and the adventurers were alone once more.

”I really wish people would learn to use my name,” Rini muttered. ”But Irenicus needs to be stopped, so I guess we’d better do what she says, for now at least. I wish she could have told us where those parasites are though.”

”I will be able to help with that, I believe,” Jaheira offered. The druid knelt down on the treebranch, touching her palms to the bark, and closed her eyes. ”Yes, I can sense the Tree’s pain. There are three parasites, alien constructs planted here by Irenicus. I can guide us to them.”

”Then lead on,” Rini said. ”I just hope getting to them won’t involve jumping from branch to branch like a group of squirrels. When I packed my wizard slaying kit this morning I clean forgot to bring any nuts.”

Fortunately, that didn’t turn out to be necessary. The parasites were all located on solid and sturdy branches, perhaps so that Irenicus wouldn’t have to resort to squirrel-hopping either. They were odd, spiky things with tendrils sunk deep into the living branches of the tree, and they throbbed slowly as if they were keeping time with some giant heartbeat. As each one was attacked, Irenicus’ ward spells triggered, summoning a small herd of hostile elementals, but after the black dragon these were minor foes and they were dispatched with relative ease. As the adventurers approached the third and last parasite, the image of Ellesime appeared before them once again. 

”Yes! Excellent!” She said. ”Kill the last one, and then come quickly to the centre of the Tree where Jon and I are. When I sever his link to the Tree he will be weak, disoriented. You must act quickly, before he recovers. Finish it quickly, I can feel the Tree dying! Jon is drawing too close to his goal!”

”Yes, yes,” Rini said. ”We’re coming. So, who wants to do the honors?”

”I will,” Jaheira said. Scimitar drawn, she stabbed it deeply inside the parasite. There was a shrill, shrieking noise, and the throbbing motion ceased as the parasite expired. From somewhere below, there came a wordless scream of rage. It rang through the branches of the Tree, making branches fall and leaves blacken and wither. Zaerini recognized the voice, and was unable to keep back a smile of triumph. 

”Wow,” Imoen said with a slow whistle. ”Sounds like somebody’s really miffed.”Think he just busted an artery?”

”I certainly hope not,” Edwin said. ”That would deprive me of the pleasure of slowly extricating them all from his body and knitting them all into a banner describing our glorious triumph over him.”

”Well, if we want to get around to that bit we’d better kill him first,” Rini said, taking her lover’s hand. ”Come on.” 

There was nothing else to be said. The end was in sight, and the path was clear. Silently, the group descended through the thick branches, towards the centre of the Tree of Life, and towards Irenicus. 

-*-

The power…the power of the Tree was gone from him. He had been so close, so very close to having it all, and now he might as well be attempting to catch moonlight with his fingers. The connection had been severed, suddenly and painfully, forcing him back from the threshold of godhood. The pain was considerable, and there might be some actual damage to his body as well, but the sharp bite of failure was worse. 

_How?!_ Jon Irenicus thought. _How is this possible? Who dares?_

”I dare,” A voice said behind him, and the archmage whipped around, realizing that he’d spoken the last words aloud. ”Time to pay the piper, Irenicus.”

It was the half-elf Bhaalspawn, Zaerini, his donor, her companions in tow. They all had their weapons ready, and appeared ready for combat. One in particular interested him, the pink-haired girl who had been Bodhi’s donor. She looked far livelier than when he had last seen her, that was certain. _That would explain why Bodhi has not communicated in some time. She always was too rash for her own good._ Briefly he considered the idea of his sister’s final demise, and how he felt about it. Nothing in particular, he decided, not even anger. She was no longer of any particular use to him, and her appetites had even made her something of a liability. The interruption of his ritual though, now that made him angry. It had been many years since he’d been able to feel true anger, and it was quite enjoyable to do so once again. It brought a heat and a quickening to his damaged body, and reminded him of other times he’d been angry, bringing back those memories in return. 

”You…” He said. ”You live _yet_?!” His voice sounded unusually affected by current circumstances and his mind didn’t quite seem to be operating with its normal cold efficiency. _Is that what anger does to you? I cannot remember._

”What can I say,” The half-elf said, unflinching as her golden eyes looked back into his blue ones. ”I’ve got nine lives. How many have _you_ got?”

_How is this possible? She has less than a fraction of her soul left, and yet she stands here daring to oppose me? This should not be._

Had he miscalculated somehow, failed to properly assess what his process would achieve as he drained her soul? It must be so, but how? There was a twinge of something deep inside, twisting in his belly. Not anger this time, this was different. He could not identify it, another annoyance. 

”It is of no importance,” He dismissed the girl. Something was amiss though. Why would the normal cool composure not fill him and soothe him as it ought to? ” You have been successful in your little scheme, insect, but now this ends!” His magical senses had been badly bruised as the link to the Tree was broken, but he could feel himself recovering now. If he could keep her talking for but a little longer, he would soon be able to crush her like the nothing that she was. ” I will take great pleasure in eradicating such a nuisance as you. And then I shall... re-establish my link, join with the Tree once again... I shall find a way, I shall have the power –”

”No, Joneleth, you shall not.” This voice, spoken directly behind his back, was intimately familiar. He had heard it many times, and had tried to recall it over and over during the long years of his exile. Right now it was cold, cold as his own had been, cold as it should be but for these odd emotions creeping up on him. He turned around and saw her, floating in the air, enveloped in a nimbus of golden light. Not truly her, a projected image. Her face was cold as well, an icy mask. _A mask. I first put this mask on to cover my face, Ellesime. Now it is my true face._

”Who…” He said, once again annoyed with himself by the strange sound of his voice. _How can she affect me so?_ ”Ellesime?” That sounded utterly stupid, certainly he knew who she was well enough. 

”Yes,” She said, her face still immobile. ”It is I, your Queen. Twice, now, you have attempted this sacrilege and nearly destroyed us all. You will not do this again, Joneleth.”

That word, the name that had once been his, that he had spoken in pride, seared like a whip laced in poison. _What…what is wrong with me? Why am I reacting like this?_ ”Do not call me that!” He snapped back at her, and was that a tremble in his voice? _Is it the power of Bhaal that is affecting me this way? I thought I had siphoned off all unwanted elements, but perhaps I was mistaken?_ ”I lost all right to that name when the Seldarine stripped me of everything that was elven, as you well know!” _Shame? Is that it? Longing?_ He could not identify these feelings properly, but they were decidedly unpleasant. As he gave the Bhaalspawn a cursory glance, he saw a strange look in her eyes. She was…studying him, much as he had always studied his experiments. He did not like this sensation either. 

”And what shall I call you instead? 'Irenicus'? 'Shattered One'?” Ellesime’s voice rose, grew stronger, more forceful. ”Yes... it was a terrible punishment. But you violated everything we hold dear. You nearly destroyed us all!”

”Did I now, my Queen? I was in control, I could have contained my magic safely, but you, you lashed out, you ruined everything!” 

”And all for power,” She said, shaking her head. ”Was it truly worth it, Jon?”

”I was the most talented mage of our people!” He snarled back at her. ”I deserved that power. I had worked for it, honed my mind and my senses in order to achieve greatness, and you…what did you ever do but be fortunate enough to be a godspawn? I asked for but a fraction of what was yours, what you did not know how to use properly, and you refused me. Yes, I took it. It was more than my right, it was my duty to do so! I took the power, and I clung to it when you took everything else away from me. It is all that I have now, apart from my revenge.” The…the anger was definitely getting stronger now, transmuting into what he could only define as ’rage’. Had it been this strong before, when he had first been exiled? He could not remember. It was an overwhelming force, sweeping him along. ” ”Revenge for what you did to me, what the Seldarine did to me!”

She was silent for a moment, and then shook her head. ” And your revenge has poisoned your heart. The Tree touched you once, long ago. Do you remember nothing of it? Is there nothing in your heart that remembers love? Is there nothing within you that remembers _our_ love? What we once shared before this obsession doomed you?”

Love. The word was familiar, familiar but empty. He knew it ought to have meaning, that once it had, but it was dry as dust now. 

”I…I do not remember your love, Ellesime,” He said, the anger temporarily softening into something else, a sense of wishing for things that had once been, things that could never be again. What was that called? Gone, lost, the knowing, slipped away so long ago. He looked at her face, unable to guess what she might be thinking. He knew her face very well, of course. Once, it had made him feel things other than anger, but that was then, long ago. ” I have tried to. I have tried to recreate it, to spark it anew in my memory. But it is gone... a hollow, dead thing.” Statues, paintings, even those dryads he had managed to collect, all worthless in the end. The mask of her face was pale, immobile. _What does she see when she looks at me? The elf who was, or the Exile who is?_ It was an unpleasant thought, and he summoned the anger again, seeking new strength in it, banishing the confusing thoughts. ” I look upon you and I feel nothing. I remember nothing but you turning your back on me, along with all the others.” Yes, this was better, less uncertain, clearer, stronger. ”Once my thirst for power was everything. And now I hunger only for revenge. And... I... WILL... HAVE IT!!”

The mask of her face moved, her eyes impenetrable blue mirrors of his own, telling him nothing. ”Then I pity you,” She said, words falling so easily from her shapely lips. ” Would that you had used your stolen mortal years to earn your return to this sacred place. ” I could have loved you anew, as I loved the man you once were. But I see nothing of him here. You are Irenicus. And all that awaits you now is death.”

” We shall see, my former love. We shall see.” 

Her image winked out then, and he nodded, understanding her ploy for what it had been. All the words, all the pretty, empty words, had distracted him for a little while, much as he had intended to distract the half-elf. She had used that time well, for now he felt his connection to the Tree well and truly barred, safeguarded against him with new wards. He had underestimated her, as he had done once before, and the result was much similar. ”So,” He said, turning to the mortals again. Ellesime’s powers had kept them from him, and him from them, while she worked her own magic. ”She has gone to fetch her followers while I am still weak. So be it. I shall crush them all, if need be. I retain your power yet, Zaerini, and I know how to use it better than you ever did. I will use it better than you ever did. Your soul still courses through me. Come and make your attempt to reclaim it, if you like. I have power enough to deal with you!”

The time for words, for challenges and threats was over. He had no time to waste, not if he wanted to eliminate these annoying creatures and still have the time to counter whatever move Ellesime was making. They would need to die swiftly and efficiently. First though, protective measures. With a brief word and a gesture, his carefully prepared spell contingencies triggered, layer upon layer in an intricate web. Protective spells against magical energies, against weapons both magical and mundane, one against offensive spells, and a Spelltrap to deal with what else might be launched at him. A projected illusionary image of himself to divert his foes, and the final safeguard, a protection against divination spells that the illusion might not be too easily dispelled. _There. Let us see what these mere children have to counter that. I dare say they are not prepared._

”Scatter!” Zaerini shouted, seemingly confirming his words. Her companions instantly obeyed her order, retreating swiftly back across the branches. His first offensive spell, a Horrid Wilting designed to instantly wither a body and drain it of all its fluids,barely missed them. _They flee already? I had not expected that._ At that moment he could feel a brief surge of magic and the mortals winked out of sight, hidden by an invisibility spell. _Yes, it would seem they are fleeing. Very well, it will spare me all the more time for Ellesime._ As he turned to levitate himself higher up in the branches he was confronted with an odd assortment of creatures, however. A group of skeletons, several ogres, and a small wyvern. He blinked, temporarily nonplussed as they advanced upon him, hissing and snarling. _Surely they cannot think such weak conjurations can possibly harm me?_ Magic flowed through him once more, pure destructive energy, wrenching the life force from the summoned beasts. They died swiftly, barely managing a sigh and a whisper as they crumpled to the ground. Another group were coming at him from behind, more skeletons, a grumpy-looking brown bear and a screeching nymph. They were dismissed with equal ease as their fellows. Still he could see no sign of Zaerini or her companions. The invisibility spell must have worn off by now, but there were plenty of branches to hide them from his sight. _I suppose I must search them out. How extremely tedious._

He walked along the branch where he had last seen his foes, watching for telltale movement. They would probably have spread out, making another Horrid Wilting or other area of effect spells less than optimal. Still, he had plenty of other weapons in his arsenal. _Ah, there._ A branch stirred, and a thin beam of yellow light erupted from the tip of his outstretched finger. There was a loud crack, and the attacker stopped in mid-motion, body already hard, cold and grey stone. As he approached, he realized his mistake however. _Another summoned beast? Have they not yet understood how pointless an exercise that is?_ He walked past the stone spider, searching once again. 

”You know,” Zaerini’s voice said, echoing through the branches. It was impossible to determine which direction it was coming from. ”I worried a lot about how we could possibly fight you. You’ve got all those dangerous spells, after all. But I’ve learnt a lot of tricks since we last met, and I thought of something else I’ve learned. A wizard is only as good as his spells. Without them, he’s a man like any other. And then I thought, there’s not really any need for us to stand around and let you use us for target practice. Not when all we’ve got to do is…wait.”

_What? What is she…_

He felt a brief chill coursing through his body as his impressive array of protective spells winked out, wasted on his hidden and waiting opponents. 

_Time. She was buying time. And the summoned creatures, I’ve been wasting my spells on them. I must hurry!_

Words of power forming on his lips, he started recasting his spells, but he’d have to do it manually this time, with the previously prepared contingency used up. That odd emotion was twisting his insides again, cold and insistent. Still he could not put a name to it. 

_Hurry. Before they…_

Pain bloomed in his side, hot and insistent, an agony spreading up under his ribs, pumping through his blood. He pressed his hand to his side, and it came away red, and dripping. 

”Hi,” Imoen said, neatly planting a knee in his back to send him staggering even as she pulled her dagger out. ”I’ve learnt lots of neat stuff too.”

He fought back as well as he could, cornered and hard pressed as he was. They were all falling upon him now, not merely the two Bhaalspawn but the others as well. He managed to restore one of his protective shields, making their weapons slide impotently off of him, and for a moment he thought he might turn the tide of the battle. Once again the shield was breached though, this time by an offensive spell from the Red Wizard, and he felt the painful backlash whip through his mind as he was once again made vulnerable. Ignoring the pain as best as he could he swept his arm out in a circular gesture, making fire flare up in a circle around him. That forced them back, and he went on the offensive once again, determined to regain the initiative. A Time Stop, yes, that would do nicely, he would have time enough to destroy at least a few of them. 

_Time. Just a little more time._

”Die!” The druid snarled in his face, grabbing him by the throat with a mailed fist. ”Die, and rot in hell!”

He choked, unable to get the words of the spell out, and was forced to his knees, retching and gasping. There were little white spots floating in clouds in front of his eyes, and the darkness was closing in on him. Shapes moved in the darkness, looming above him, reaching for him. He could feel his tongue protruding from his mouth now, and heard a horrible, gurgling sound forced out of his crushed throat. There was no time, there would never be any more time, he saw that now. 

_To end…like THIS!_

”Minsc,” He vaguely heard the Bhaalspawn say. ”If you would?”

Irenicus heard, but never saw the sword fall, and the seconds before he felt it lasted an eternity. Then, at long last, he was falling, falling swiftly into the unknown, defeated.   
As he fell, it finally came to him what emotion he’d previously been unable to identify. No longer was it lost and forgotten, and for the first time in a very long time, Jon Irenicus knew fear.


	182. Abyss

**Cards Reshuffled 182 – Abyss**

_You’d think that an immortal God, who can set his home up exactly how he wants it, would go for enjoyable things like a magic pool, a nice bar which never runs dry or maybe a super-comfy bed full of succubi. Not my sire though. No, it’s tentacles and spikes all the way, liberally sprinkled with demons. Divinity really is wasted on some people, I guess._

_Excerpt from ’Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

She wasn’t hurting, that was a good thing. She was lying on flat, smooth ground, and nobody seemed to be trying to kill her right at that moment. That was also good. The sound of faint screams somewhere in the extreme distance was bad. It wasn’t her screaming though, that was good. And they’d killed Irenicus, she could remember it now. That was very good, that was great! But after that…directly after that, she could remember intense pain, and a tugging sensation. She’d been pulled into darkness, into oblivion, helplessly dragged along after the dying wizard. That had to be bad. Very bad, even. 

_I’m not going to like this, am I?_ Zaerini thought. She opened her eyes all the same, because it wasn’t as if she’d do herself any favour putting it off. There was a vast, dark space above her. She got the impression that there was a ceiling somewhere up there, but she couldn’t actually see it. She could see shapes though, leatherwinged shapes flitting about high above her. They screeched now and then, nasty, taunting little screeches. Possibly they might have been bats, but they looked a bit too large, and something about their shape was…off. She sat up, and saw that she was on a kind of stone island, floating in the middle of empty nothingness. Stone stairs led off it in five different directions, and they were lined by fleshy protuberances which looked a bit as if a giant had sneezed and not bothered to cover his mouth. 

”What…where in the Abyss is this place?” Rini said, her mouth feeling very dry. 

”Boo says it’s Level 752,” Minsc helpfully said. ”He says it’s ’picture-esque and rustic with decent ambience but badly decorated and you shouldn’t order the Mystery Stew’. Does that help, Little Rini?”

Zaerini turned around, to see all of her friends sitting on the ground directly behind her. None of them seemed to be hurt, which was good. The fact that they’d been dragged along with her to this place though…that was bad. Just as she thought that, the meaing of what Minsc had said finally sunk in. 

”The Abyss,” She said, fighting an urge to scream in frustration. ”We’re in the Abyss, aren’t we?” _This isn’t fair! We beat him, he was dead. This wasn’t supposed to happen!_

”So it would seem,” Edwin said, calmly tilting his head back to study the wobbling purple tentacles dangling from under one of the staircases. ”The hamster has a point for once, this place truly lacks proper infernal class. (Whoever designed it could have benefited from my own sage counsel.)”

”Bhaal,” Imoen said, hugging her own knees tightly. ”This is Bhaal’s place, isn’t it?”

Rini nodded, uncomfortably aware of her sire’s presence, silent but stronger and closer than she had ever felt it. The dead god wasn’t speaking to her, but she could almost feel him directly behind her, breathing down her neck. ”I’m so sorry, guys,” She said, looking down at her feet. ”This is all because of me. Irenicus…he died, but he didn’t let go of my soul. He dragged me along after him to this place, and I dragged you all along.” She could remember it now, desperately reaching out, wrapping them all in a mental embrace, refusing to let go. She’d acted on instinct, not understanding what she was doing, but it was still her fault.

”Hey, don’t say that,” Imoen protested. ”You won’t get rid of me that easily, sis. Where you go, I go, you know that. Besides, you’ll need me. You’ll need all of us if Irenicus is still hanging around here somewhere.”

”Indeed,” Edwin said with a nod. He took her hand, his fingers curling tightly around hers. ”You have followed me into the void and beyond without flinching. Should I do any less for you?”

”Irenicus is dead,” Jaheira said, and there was a new sense of peace in her voice which hadn’t been there before. ”We are not, and for as long as even a fragment of him remains we will stand against him again and again, as many times as is necessary.”

”Well spoken,” Anomen said, smiling. ”We will do what needs to be done, and Helm willing we will all see daylight again.”

”Little Rini shouldn’t worry,” Minsc said, patting her on the shoulder. ”The Very Evil Wizard may have run away for now, but he cannot run for much longer. Boo’s legs may be short, but a hamster never stops, no! Soon enough his keen teeth will nibble and savage.”

”Er, good,” Rini said, eying Boo. The hamster looked back camly, rubbing his nose with tiny pink claws. ”I don’t suppose he knows where Irenicus is does he? I can’t see any sign of him here.”

”Oh, that is easy!” Minsc proclaimed. ”Boo says the Very Evil Wizard is here, but in another place which is the same place as our place. He says all the doors must be opened, and the Very Evil Wizard must open them too. When that happens, this place and the other place will be the same place, and also at the same time.”

”Well,” Edwin said after a few seconds of stunned silence from the rest of the party. ”What a good thing we cleared that up. If we are quite done discussing hamster philosophy, perhaps we can begin our search for our foe? (I still intend to introduce his colon to a hot poker, a sharp and pointy one if possible.)”

”Sounds about right,” Rini said. She looked at the stone stairways, disappearing into the darkness. ”I guess we’ll just have to try one by one.” She stood, stretching her legs. She didn’t feel dead. She didn’t even feel hurt, despite remembering some of Irenicus’ spells finding their mark before. 

_You aren’t dead, kitten._ Softpaws’ voice sounded more distant than it normally did, and when she looked around for her familiar all she could see whas a faint silver outline in the air at her feet, more or less cat-shaped. There was a smaller one next to her, which had to be Insufferable. _But you need to hurry, or you will be! He’s still trying to drag you under._

_I’ll try to hurry. But where are you? Are you ok?_

_We’re right here, where you should be if you had even half the sense of a normal kitten. We’re fine. Now get rid of that old dead thing and come home…_

The cat’s voice faded, still a quiet presence in the back of her head but too soft for her to properly hear it. She thought from the worried look on Edwin’s face that he’d been having a similar conversation with Insufferable. There was nothing else she could do though, than what she’d already been planning. She had to find Irenicus, and deal with whatever it was that remained of him, even after death. 

Zaerini carefully walked up one of the walkways, expecting an attack at any moment. Nothing in particular happened though, until she reached the end. There was another platform here, or so it seemed. There were tall stone walls surrounding it, with nasty metal spikes on top, so she couldn’t see inside. There was also a doorway, and there was a demon standing in the doorway. It was perhaps the most obviously demonic demon she had ever seen, complete with bright red skin, a forked tail, pointed horns, goat feet and a pitchfork. It had a relatively attractive goatee as well, and it was smiling at her, baring sharp teeth. 

”Greetings, Child of Bhaal!” It said in a mellow, slightly oily voice. ”I am Pride, and I bid you welcome.”

”Really?” Rini said. ”You’re awfully friendly for a demon, aren’t you? What are you doing here?”

The demon smiled again. ”I have been invited, for the tests needed before you can gain further access to your Father’s realm. Not that it’s really necessary of course, not in the face of your obvious strength, beauty and courage, but alas there is a protocol to be followed. You seek Irenicus, the archmage. He is in another part of the realm, seeing to wrest dominion over it from you. If you wish to counter him, you must oppose him, and the tests will lead you to him.”

”Cease your prattle, minion,” Edwin said, glaring at the demon. ”You are in our way, and ’in our way’ is not a good place to be unless you desire to be composed entirely of charcoal.”

”Oh, you shouldn’t direct your ire at me,” The demon said. ”Behind me lurks a hideous beast, a dreadful creature of deadly prowess in battle.” He smiled at Rini again. ”It holds one of the Tears of Bhaal, the keys needed to proceed where you need to go. Ah, but you have slain many a fearsome foe, it should prove but a trifling annoyance to eliminate this one.”

”Right,” Rini said, quickly looking at Edwin to make certain he was still standing beside her and not in front of her dressed up as a demon. ”And what kind of beast is it?”

”It is a deadly one! It stands in your way! You must slay it.”

”Oh, I get it,” Rini said. ”This is a bluff, isn’t it? This is the real test, to see if I’m prideful and will swear to kill something without even knowing what it is. You’d better work on your acting skills a bit if you want to sell me that, you kind of stink.” She gave the demon a thoughtful look. ”Unless it’s a double bluff of course. You would probably know that I’m not that stupid and you’d want me to think you’re trying to trick me into killing the beast, so I’ll refuse, thinking myself very clever, and get stuck here, so I really ought to kill it.” She took a few steps closer to the demon, her hands on her hips as she talked. ”Then again, you might have thought of that. You might have guessed I’d think of a double bluff, and be trying to triple bluff me into killing some creature I shouldn’t, so I should refuse.”

”Er…it stands in your way?” The now fairly bewildered demon said, trying to get back to its script. ”You…should slay it?”

”Ah but what if it’s a quadruple bluff!” Rini exclaimed, stepping even closer until she had placed her hand on the demon’s shoulder, smiling at him in a companionable fashion. ”You might have seen through me thinking of the triple bluff, and be trying to fool me into refusing to kill the beast who holds the key, yes. So I should, shouldn’t I?”

”Yes!” The demon shouted, now even redder than before. There was smoke coming out of his ears. ”Yes, yes, yes! Kill it! Just kill it!”

”Have it your way then,” Rini said, smiling brightly. Her free hand hidden from the demon’s view she had her sword out before he could spot it, and she stabbed deep into his midriff, then twisted. It screamed and tried to claw at her face, but the wound was already fatal and she easily dodged the few feeble blows it could manage before it exploded into a rain of cockroaches and black smoke.

”That was very twisted, Hellkitten,” Edwin said, his eyes glowing with admiration. ”Just perfect. (Is it just me, or did the Abyss suddenly get even hotter?)”

”Thanks,” She said with a smile. ”You were right too. He _shouldn’t_ have stood in my way and told me to kill what stands in my way. Also, I don’t like tests very much.” She peered through the doorway. ”Yup, empty, just like I thought. Bet he would have attacked us from behind as we walked inside.”

”The tear thing was real though,” Imoen said, picking up something off the ground where the demon had stood. It was a flat stone disk, shaped like a tear, and the symbol of Bhaal was etched into its surface. ”Not sure what it’s supposed to be, but I think we’d better hang onto it.”

”Right you are, Immy. Well, let’s see if there are any more demons around, I guess.” Zaerini’s smile widened a little. ”If there are, I hope they’re as much fun as this one.”

Behind the second doorway, there wasn’t a demon. At least, there wasn’t a visible one. Zaerini stood directly in front of what seemed to be a sheet of absolute darkness, a pitchblack nothing. There was no way to tell what was inside, and she could hear no noises either. She gingerly stuck the tip of her finger inside, with no obvious ill effect. Above the doorway, a single word was written. 

”So this is ’Fear’,” Rini said, trying to sound more casual than she felt. ”Doesn’t that sound fun?”

”Careful,” Jaheira warned her. ”There is no telling what might lurk in there.”

”Magelight does not appear to function properly,” Edwin said, holding up a small sphere of glowing light in the palm of his hand. ”I could always conjure up a few random creatures and send them in as bait.”

”I don’t think that would work,” Rini slowly said. ”It looks like this whole place is set up for me, to ’test’ me. I think unless I go inside, nothing will happen, and I think I’ve got to go inside if we ever want to get out of here.”

”First, we ought to prepare for battle,” Anomen suggested. ”And that should definitely include a few spells to strengthen courage and resolve.”

Rini didn’t protest, but in her heart, she didn’t really think it would be that easy. _These tests are about me, somehow. To see what I do, how I act. The others might help, but they can’t make the choices for me._ It wasn’t a very reassuring thought.   
When she did step inside the doorway, darkness immediately descended, making her entirely blind. Her friends had been directly behind her, but she was alone in the dark now, she knew that even as she called out for them. _Stupid move. If there’s a demon in here, I just told it exactly where I am._ She took a hesitant step forward, and then another. So far there had been no sign of attack, but there had to be something bad in here, or else why the name of ’Fear’? Not knowing what to expect made the whole thing worse, it made her imagination run wild and conjure up one horrific monster after another. None of them were as horrifying though, as reality. Her feet suddenly nudged something solid, making her nearly trip. She knelt down, reaching her hands out to determine what it was, and then she froze in midmotion. She had just touched a hand, a cold and unmoving hand, and as her fingers moved on they passed across a stiff arm and onto a still chest. _A corpse. I nearly tripped over a corpse._

Light, merciless white light, flashed above her, nearly blinding her entirely. She blinked her streaming eyes, trying to make sense of what was going on. The unseeing eyes of the corpse looked back at her, blank like those of a doll. When the kaleidoscope of corpse-pale skin and familiar features came together into dreadful reality Zaerini screamed, a desperate scream that tore at her heart like an iron claw. 

The corpse at her feet was Edwin. 

”Edwin!” Zaerini tried to scream again, but her mouth didn’t seem to be working properly, and it came out as more of a strangled wail. The corpse of her lover felt cold, so very cold, past all hope of resurrection. Tears were streaming down her face, and her breath came in choked sobs as she touched his face, trying in vain to wake him up. _Don’t be dead. You can’t be dead, this isn’t right, it isn’t right. Not here, not now, not again!_

Not again? The half-elf paused, her hands still resting on the dead wizard’s chest. Yes, there was something terribly familiar about all of this, wasn’t there? As if it had happened once before. 

_Bodhi. Aerie. Yes. I…remember that. But we saved him. I know we did. So how can this be?_

Wiping her eyes as well as she could she tried to think, to reason past the galloping panic. It was possible that Edwin, following her into the portal, might have been somehow killed. But without making a sound, and without her noticing it? And how could his corpse already be stiff and cold? And if he had followed, the others would have followed as well, surely they would have. Yet there was no sign of them, alive or dead. Why not?

_Because losing him again is my greatest fear_ , she thought, knowing it for the truth. _Because that’s what’s most likely to make me give up, to just lay down and die._

”No,” She whispered. ”No, this isn’t real, it can’t be.” It felt real, true. But she’d seen her sire’s work before, she knew how deceiving he could be. ”I won’t let it be real.” She knew that much was true, knew it with ironclad certainty, deep in her bones. ”I know you’re dead, at least, Father,” She said, staring out into the darkness. ”You no longer rule this place, not like before. You no longer fully command it.” She thought she could feel the darkness now, in her mind, sense the shape of it. No longer a hostile entity, it was hers, to shape and control as she pleased. ”But I will.” She set her will fully against the darkness, pushing at it with her mind, ignoring the leaden despair and dread that tried to intrude upon her focus. She couldn’t afford to let them distract her, not now.   
The darkness shattered, a million tiny black needles burying themselves in her heart, and she nearly screamed again, before she bit it back. That was a luxury she couldn’t afford right now. _Be ruled by will alone, not by fear. Fear will kill, in this place._

There were arms around her, warm and solid, comforting and blessedly familiar. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know his presence, she could hear the steady rhythm of his heart and feel his hand stroking her hair. ”You’re alive,” She stated, releasing a sigh of relief. 

”Well, of course I’m alive!” Edwin said, his voice rather sharp. ”How are you though? You went into that archway and started screaming as if you were being torn apart by wild animals! (And the only one allowed to ravage her is myself.)”

”I’m fine,” Rini promised, opening her eyes. The darkness was gone, as was the corpse. Her lover was indeed holding her, and her other friends were around her as well, all of them looking quite concerned but unharmed. ”Now.” _And I hope that wherever Irenicus is, he’s having a worse time of this than I am._ There was something cold in her hand, cold and solid. A second Tear of Bhaal. Three more to go, and she had a feeling this wasn’t going to get any easier. 

”This time, I think you’d all better stay down here,” Zaerini said as she neared the third platform. ”If I know for sure you’re out of the way, at least I’ll know you’re safe.”

”Don’t be ridiculous!” Edwin protested. ”Anything at all could be up there, I have no intention of letting you face it alone.”

”He is right,” Jaheira agreed. ”Think on it, these tests of yours will hardly be designed to each work the same as the one before. Whatever the next one will do, it is unlikely to attempt to trick you in the same manner as the last one.”

”No, maybe this time it’ll kill you all for real!”

”Little Rini won’t let that happen,” Minsc said, nodding. ”Boo says you know better what to do than you think you do. He says you should stop thinking about it and just do it.”

”Do what?” Rini asked, eyeing Boo curiously. The little hamster camly looked back at her, beady black eyes glittering in the flickering dim light of the Abyss. 

”He didn’t say, but Boo is wise and knows many things. And thinking makes heads hurt, so Little Rini will probably feel better if she doesn’t do too much of it.”

”I’ll keep that in mind,” Rini said with a faint smile. She looked at the third platform. It seemed entirely empty. There was no demon, no spooky darkness, nothing at all apart from a single stone pillar right in the middle of it. The word ’Selfishness’ was engraved along the pillar. ”Ok, we’ll all go in together then. Ready?” Once she’d made certain her friends were all with her, she carefully stepped onto the platform. Nothing happened, so she approached the pillar, one slow step at a time. Still nothing happened. Weird. She reached her hand out to touch the pillar, and as she did so she felt a powerful surge of magic, rising from below her. The platform shot up into the air, and she was forced to her knees, clinging onto the pillar for dear life. The others were also clutching it tightly, and fortunately nobody had fallen off yet. She very much worried it was only a matter of time though, and even worse, she could see the ceiling of the vast cave getting closer and closer. The platform showed no sign of stopping its rapid ascension, and it could be only a matter of time before they were all squashed flat. 

HAVING FUN, DAUGHTER? The voice inside her head sounded quite smug, as if the owner was about to chuckle at any moment. 

_Shut up and leave us alone! Irenicus is bad enough, I don’t need you on top of him so just back off and stop this!_

OH, IT IS NOT I DOING THIS, DAUGHTER. YOU ARE TESTING YOURSELF. 

_Testing myself? What? Why? I must be really twisted if I’m trying to turn myself and all of my friends into mush._

YOU ARE TESTING YOUR CAPACITY, REFORMING YOUR CONNECTION WITH THE LOST PART OF YOUR SOUL. I DO WISH YOU TO REGAIN THAT, THIS IRENICUS IS AN INFERIOR SUBSTITUTE. 

_I don’t need your help!_ Rini winced as she looked up at the rapidly approaching ceiling. There were stalactites hanging down from it, looking very sharp and pointy indeed. _Ok, maybe just a little tiny hint?What’s all this got to do with ’selfishness’?_

SOME WOULD NAME IT SELFISHNESS TO REACH OUT FOR POWER. ASK YOURSELF THIS, DAUGHTER. IS IT NOT ALSO SELFISHNESS TO REFUSE A POWER STRONG ENOUGH TO SAVE THOSE YOU PROFESS TO CARE ABOUT? IT IS WITHIN YOUR GRASP. ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS REACH OUT FOR IT. 

_Reach out for it…_

She knew what she must do, and she didn’t have time to think about it further. If she didn’t do it, others would die along with her. A part of her mind, the same part which had banished the darkness before, reached out and pushed. She didn’t think about exactly what she was doing, but acted out of instinct, forcing reality to rearrange itself around her, bending it to her will. The accelerating platform slowed down, stopped in midair, then gently began lowering itself again. Rini lay very still, trying hard to avoid thinking about what was happening until they had finally reached solid ground again. The power was still present, shimmering at the edge of her awareness, so much easier to feel here in the Abyss than outside in the world she knew. 

_I won’t do this again. I won’t reach for it, won’t let it change me more than it already has. Not unless I really have to._ She turned her head, looking at Edwin and tried not to think about all the things which might force her hand. ”Three down,” She said in a shaky voice, her fingers closing around something hard and cold. The third Tear. ”Two to go.”

As she approached the fourth of the five platforms, Zaerini felt very wary indeed. She could see yet another stone archway, this one with the word ’Greed’ written above it, and past the archway she could see bubbling lava and a narrow path leading off into the distance. How this was possible on a platform suspended high up in the air, she didn’t know. 

_Then again, it’s the Abyss. Normal rules don’t really apply here._

Just past the archway, a demon was standing. This one was tall, and thin, and had unusually long arms which seemed to almost reach his ankles if he let them dangle. He was wearing a long coat, checkered in virulent purple, toxic green and electric blue, and was holding a fishing pole. What he could possibly hope to catch in a pool of lava Rini didn’t know, and didn’t much care. As he saw her approach, the demon smiled broadly and gave her an enthusiastic wave. 

”Aha, the Child of Bhaal!” He said, then grasped her hand and shook it forcefully up and down. ”My pleasure, my pleasure! Didn’t think you’d get here really, decided to relax while waiting. Well done, well done!”

”Look,” Rini said, finally managing to twist free. ”It’s been kind of a long day, so can we just get on with things?”

”Oh, certainly, certainly. The next to last Tear of Bhaal lies not far from here, Child of Bhaal. Tell you what, why don’t we make this easy on both of us, so I can get back to my fishing, hm?” The demon smiled, baring a row of yellow, pointy teeth. ”I’ll give you the key you need, Child of Bhaal. The mighty sword Blackrazor is the one item capable of granting you the Tear, and this legendary artifact just so happens to be in my possession.”

”Gee, what a coincidence,” Rini said, crossing her arms across her chest. ”So what’s the catch?”

”Oh, no catch, no catch! I will give you the sword, and you do what you will with it. Is this not fair?”

”An artifact sword, is it?” Edwin said, his eyes glittering eagerly. ”Think on it, it might be a sword to match my most excellent new staff, one befitting your status.”

”Let’s see it then,” Rini said, holding her hand out. Suddenly her fingers closed around something cold and hard, something that fit the palm of her hand as if it had been made for it. It was the hilt of a slender, yet very sharp sword, with a blade as black as the darkest night, and an edge so sharp it almost seemed to cut the very air as she moved it. Little specks of light traveled along the black blade, like distant stars, and when they stirred she thought she could hear whispers. Or were they screams? Very, very faint screams. It was a beautiful sword, and the magical power radiating from it was so strong it made her catch her breath. ”So…what now?” She asked the demon. ”What am I supposed to do with it?”

”That is your choice, Child of Bhaal,” The demon said, his attention once again focused upon his fishingpole. ”The sword is the key to getting the Tear, and the Tear lies further in.” He pointed at a row of flat stones, forming a kind of path across the lava. As they became visible, the demon himself gradually faded out of sight until he was nowhere to be seen. 

”It seems we have no choice but to proceed,” Anomen said with a sigh. ”But I must urge you to be cautious, that sword has a very unpleasant aura about it.”

As he said that, Blackrazor trembled slightly in Zaerini’s hand, and then the sword spoke, in a voice that reminded her of old, black syrup, laced with arsenic. ”Why thank you so much, darling. Why don’t you step a little closer, and I’ll let you view my aura…right close up and for all eternity.”

”Hey!” Rini called out, forcing the tip of the sword towards the ground. ”Don’t you dare threaten my friend!”

”But I wasn’t threatening him,” Blackrazor purred, the little motes of light spinning at a quickend speed across its blace. ”I just want to get to know him a little better, to drink in his essence and make it my own.”

”Make one single move towards him or his ’essence’, and I will hammer you into a doorstopper,” Jaheira growled, adding her own hand on top of Zaerini’s to help her keep the sword steady. ”Is that perfectly clear?”

”Oh very well,” The sword sulked. ”I see you’re determined to be boring about this. So if you don’t appreciate my delicious soul-draining skills, what do you want? I could be in the strong, sensitive, manly hands of some hunky deathknight even now, my hilt caressed by his touch, and here I am with a group of plebs…”

”That’s the problem,” Rini said, making sure her grip on the sword was as firm as she could make it. ”I don’t really know. All I know is that I need you for something.”

”Lovely. Ignorance coupled with lack of taste, this just keeps getting better. Look, when it comes to slaying, murdering and maiming you’re clearly inferior, so let’s just call it quits, shall we? I can’t imagine what that demon was thinking, I specifically asked him for a blinddate with a tall and handsome deathknight and this is what he gets me?”

”Don’t sweat it baby!” Lilarcor piped up from its scabbard slung across Minsc’s shoulder. ”If it’s tall and handsome you want, tall and handsome you get, oh yeah mama! Look at how well oiled and shiny I am! Look at my reach! Say…how about a little…duel? Just you and me. Doesn’t that make you tremble with anticipation?” 

Blackrazor fell silent for a moment, and when it spoke again it was, in fact, trembling slightly. ”Remind me,” It said, ”To never ever again let a demon arrange a blinddate for me.”

”But baaaaby…” Lilarcor whined, straining to try to get out of its scabbard. ”Just give me a chance, baby! Ok, so maybe you’re an Evil, soul-drinking artifact-level sword likely to turn on its wielder any moment, and I’m a heroic, dashing, daring…”

”…moronic…” Blackrazor hissed. 

”…moronic…no, wait, that’s not it. Sparkling is what I meant to say.” Even though Lilarcor didn’t have anything even remotely resembling a face, Zaerini could almost see an ingratiating grin. ”Come on, baby. Bad girls love heroes, everybody knows it. Come on, let me…reform you.”

”I would sooner be used for an ogre’s toothpick for the next hundred years,” Blackrazor retorted. Zaerini tightened her grip on the black sword’s hilt, very much afraid that it might try to leap out of her hand at any second. The little motes of light were swirling faster along the black blade, and the faint sound of distant screams got louder every time Lilarcor spoke. _Great. An evil, soul-devouring, intelligent sword, and I’ve got to hang onto it. How is this a test of ’Greed’ again? I’d drop it into this lava in a second if I didn’t need it._

”Lilarcor, just drop it, please,” She told the large sword Minsc was carrying. ”She’s not interested, can’t you tell?”

”I’ll make her interested! Oooh, wait, I know, I’ll tell her all about my heroic deeds against the Goblin Hordes of Chult, that’ll impress her!”

At this, Rini was unable to resist turning her head and meeting Anomen’s eyes. The cleric blushed faintly, and shrugged. 

”Goblins?” Blackrazor said in an incredulous voice. ”I’ve drained living souls by the hundreds, dragons and planar creatures have fallen to my wile, even a god once, and you try to impress me with goblins?”

”A god?” Rini asked, unable to help herself. ”It wasn’t Bhaal, by any chance, was it?”

”No,” Blackrazor sulked. ”Stupid ’Godsbane’ stole that kill. Say, you’re a Bhaalspawn…it’s almost as good as a god. Would you mind terribly if I kill you? It would count as an achievement…”

”Yes, I would mind actually! Look, I just need you to somehow get me one of those ’Tear of Bhaal’ things, after that you can go wherever you want, but it won’t be with us.” Rini carefully walked onto yet another of the flat rocks leading out into the bubbling lava, and was relieved to see that she’d nearly reached the end of the path. There was a person a short distance ahead, submerged to his chest in lava but seemingly unconcerned about this. As she approached, she could make out more details. The person was a tall and muscular man, wearing black armour. It was covered with so many spikes that she thought even Sarevok would have approved of it, as well as with miniature skulls, and was surrounded by a nimbus of red light. She cautiously peered inside the jaws of a menacing helmet shaped to resemble a roaring, horned badger, and saw a pale but handsome face. He seemed to be fast asleep, however that was possible in a pool of lava. 

”Um, hello?” Rini said, gently rapping her knuckles against the spiky helmet. ”Are you all right?”

”Gah!” The person cried out, opening a pair of coldly glowing blue eyes. ”Whut? You’re not my party, are you?”

”No,” Jaheira said, carefully nudging the younger half-elf out of the way to position herself up front. ”We are not. Who…what are you?”

”I’m Duh-rthas!” The man proudly proclaimed. ”Duh-rhtas the mighty Death Knight! Hey, hey, wanna duel me? I bet I can beat you! Come on, come on, let’s duel!”

”You’re submerged in lava,” Anomen pointed out. ”What makes you think you could possibly duel anybody?”

”Ha, I’m a Death Knight, didn’t I say so? I’m awesome! I’m rough and tough! Come on, come on, duel me, duel me!”

”Don’t think so,” Rini said. ”We’re kind of busy, and not into dueling anyway. What are you doing here anyway?”

”Well, that’s the thing I don’t really get,” The Death Knight said. ”See, I was leading my group through the Abyssal Inferno, being really awesome like I usually am, chopping demons down in droves. Was just the stupid healer complaining, really. How does she expect me to tackle more than one demon at a time? Is it my fault they all went for her? She should just make more of an effort!”

”I can’t help but notice,” Edwin remarked, ”That your armour, black and spiky as it looks, is in fact made from cloth. Lacy cloth. (Tasteless. Utterly tasteless. Not a hint of gold thread anywhere.)”

”So what!” Duh-rthas protested. ”I don’t have to wear nasty confining metal gear if I don’t wanna! This looks way prettier and I’m tough as nails, weapons just bounce off me. Why should warlocks have all the fun? That healer should just work harder to keep me up!”

”Right…” Rini said, noticing how Jaheira’s right eyelid had started twitching rapidly. ”So your healer got mad and they left you behind?”

”Nah, that wasn’t it. One of the demons dropped this shiny rock when we killed it, so of course I said I needed it.”

”Needed it?” Imoen asked. ”What for?”

”How should I know? It was shiny!” Duh-rthas sighed. ”The others wanted it too, but I said I needed it more and then I swallowed it so they couldn’t get at it. Then they kicked me. Right into the lava. I’m stuck in the rocks, and I’ve been yelling and yelling but nobody’s come by to get me out yet. Good thing I don’t burn well.” The blue glow in his eyes suddenly brightened a little. ”You can get me out, right? Don’t think my party’s coming back, really.”

”Hm,” Rini said. ”Maybe…” She interrupted herself as she looked down at the sword in her hand. Blackrazor was humming softly, and there was an increasingly powerful black aura swirling around the blade. 

”Ooooh yesssss…” The sword purred. ”That’s more like it. A hunky, manly, spiky Death Knight. Dumb as a post, but I can work around that.”

”Whut?” Duh-rthas said. 

”Mmm, selfish, vain, greedy, violent…lovely! He’s a perfect Death Knight! I want him! I want him!”

”But baby…” Lilarcor protested. ”What about us?”

”Shut up, insipid hack! Don’t you dare spoil my moment!”

”Say, Duh-rthas,” Rini said, grinning. ”This is Blackrazor, a really powerful, legendary, evil sword. Only one of her kind. With her in your hand, any other Death Knight you meeet will be really jealous. And guess what, you can have her, if you’ll agree to let me have that little rock you picked up earlier. What do you say, do we have a deal?”

Duh-rthas smiled. 

_Five minutes later…_

”I…don’t know about this…” Duh-rthas the Death Knight said, trying to twist out of Minsc’s grip. Pulling him out of the lava hadn’t been too hard, but upon explaining what she intended to do now he’d had some second thoughts. 

”Oh, don’t be a baby,” Zaerini said, carefully wielding Blackrazor. The intelligent sword made the whole process much easier than it would have been otherwise, and it was definitely sharp enough.”It can’t kill you, you’re already dead!” _At least I don’t think so. Probably._

”It still hurts!”

”We made a deal, remember? You agreed to let me have the rock in return for this sword. I don’t have time to wait for it to pass you by naturally. See how it all makes sense? Anyway, if you didn’t want things like this to happen, you should have worn real plate.”

She widened the incision a little, then gingerly dug her fingers into the Death Knight’s stomach. It was all pretty disgusting, but compared to the thought of Irenicus doing who-knew-what with the missing part of her soul, it didn’t bother her as much as she’d have expected. ”And besides, Anomen and Jaheira will fix you right up, I promise. And they’re even giving you painkilling spells right now. Now try to hold still.”

”Ow! That’s my spleen!”

”Ooops. Sorry. But don’t worry, I hear you can do just fine without one. Right, here we are.” She gingerly extracted a smooth, gore-covered oblong object. ”Fourth Tear, only one to go! Ok guys, I’m all done.” She patted Duh-rthas on the cheek as Anomen and Jaheira started closing the wound. ”See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

”Are you sure he’ll be ok, Rini?” Imoen asked, looking worried. 

”Yep, I promise. He’ll be fine, and see, I even found a few gallstones while snooping around in there so now he’ll be less likely to get tummy-aches.”

”I hate all of you,” Duh-rthas sniffled. ”Can I have my sword now?”

”Sure, she’s all yours.” She handed the crooning Blackrazor to the Death Knight. ”You’ll want to be careful with her, she’s not exactly trusthworthy I think.”

”Don’t care!” Duh-rthas said, all of his woes already forgotten as he lovingly gazed upon the magic sword and cradled it in his arms. ”Ooooh…sparkly. And mine, all mine!”

”Yes, my darling,” Blackrazor hummed. ”I’m all yours, for as long as you live. You don’t really need any silly old soul, do you? Not when you have me?”

”Nope,” the Death Knight agreed, gently running a finger along the sword. ”I’ll take the loot.”

”Mmm, yes. This will be a very enjoyable partnership…” 

As she hurried back along the trail of skipping stones, Zaerini thought she could hear a faint gargle, and a scream which was suddenly cut off. Somehow, she suspected that Duh’rthas’ greed might have got the better of him. 

Carefully approaching the fifth and last of the platforms, Rini tried to prepare herself for whatever might lie in wait there. There wasn’t an archway this time, but a flat stone set into the ground. The single word ’Wrath’ had been carved into it with angry, spiky letters. Apart from that, the platform looked entirely empty, but she knew better by now than to trust in that. And to be sure, as soon as she set foot on it, reality shifted around her. Tall stone walls soared into the air, effectively cutting her off from her friends. She was standing in the middle of a round pit, with broken pillars and debris scattered across grey sand stained with what she thought was probably blood. Above her, orange clouds floated through a silver sky, lightning sparking around them. That wasn’t important though. 

What was important, extremely important even, was the sole other person present. He was standing directly opposite her, both hands on the hilt of a massive sword, a tall and imposing figure with broad shoulders and chest. His armour was black, much as the ill-fated Death Knight’s had been, but there was no question of it being cloth, oh no. Sturdy metal, with nasty, curved spikes on the shoulders, gloves and knees, as well as on the helmet which covered much of his face. She could see a square jaw, and a hint of his mouth with the lips pressed tightly together. She could see his eyes. They were golden eyes, eyes like fire. Eyes like her own. 

”Greetings, Little Sister,” The man said, his eyes meeting hers. ”I have been expecting you for some time, now.”


	183. Price Of A Soul

**Cards Reshuffled 183 – Price Of A Soul**

_’Life is pain’. It was my enemy who told me this, long ago. He didn’t know how right he was._

_Excerpt from ’Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

”Sarevok,” Zaerini said, meeting the eyes of her brother. ”Fancy meeting you here.” Oddly enough, she didn’t feel afraid. This felt right, and she was practically tingling with newfound energy. ”So, what’s up with you lately?”

”I’ve been dead and spending my time in the Abyss,” Sarevok said, not sounding in the least amused. ”After you killed me, that is.”

”You tried to kill me first,” Rini said, spreading her hands with an apologetic grin. ”Can’t blame a girl for defending herself, can you? But why are you here, now?”

”You brought me here,” Sarevok said, his deep voice reverberating in her head. ”You summoned me, Little Sister, and I came. You desire to test yourself against me once more.”

”No, no, I’m pretty sure what I desire is to have my soul back, then get right out. A nice, sunny beach and a few drinks wouldn’t be bad either. Maybe a few rounds at the gambling tables and a lovely dinner, and then…”

”Pay attention!” Sarevok snapped at her. ”These tests are your means of getting your soul back, as you well know. Try to be serious, for once in your life. This is pathetic.”

”Pathetic, am I? I’m not the one wearing so many spikes I look like Happy the Hedgehog. If you wanted to look scary, maybe you should have gone for a bunny-suit instead, now that’d freak people out. Rabbits are seriously scary, I think it’s the way they wiggle their noses and just watch you. Maybe you could have a sword shaped like a giant carrot.”

”Argh!” Sarevok growled. ”You’re wasting your time with ridiculous jokes, sister.” His grip tightened on the large sword he carried. ”We are two sides of the same coin, you and I. We complete each other. Dark and light, serious and frivolous, Good and Evil…”

”Stylish and Fashion-victim?”

”NO!” Sarevok took a few deep breaths, clearly attempting to calm himself. ”Your heart knows the same power that mine does, the same wrath. Use that wrath, SEIZE the power waiting for you as you know you must.” He smiled at last, a grim smile without any mirth to it. ”If you need aid in summoning it, then remember me. Remember how I drove my sword into your precious Gorion, how I hunted you down, how I wasted so many lives in Candlekeep. Remember that, stoke that infernal wrath and clash with me once more, for it is our destiny to do so! You need me, and you know it!”

_Gorion._

She could feel the anger lurking deep inside, black tendrils trying to wrap themselves around her heart. It would be easy to give in to it, so dangerously easy. She’d done it before, she knew the seductive power of it. 

”I remember it,” She said. ”I wanted you to pay for it, and I guess you did in the end. But that’s not all I remember. I remember sneaking a peek in your diary, Big Brother. I remember learning your secrets. I remember reaching out to you.” She could feel something else now, a different kind of power. Not the wrath, no, this was lighter, more playful, but no less powerful. _My way, brother. Not yours._ Light flared between her fingers, and she started casually shuffling the deck of cards which had appeared in her hand, conjured out of nothing. ”Maybe I was insane for doing so, seeing how you tried to kill me anyway, but I’m not sorry I did. Maybe there are worse things than insanity.”

”What?” Sarevok said, sounding very non-plussed. ”No, this is not right, you’re doing this all wrong!”

”Am I?” Rini said, trying to see his face. It wasn’t easy, underneath that black helmet she could really only make out a square chin with a mouth pressed together in an angry scowl, and the glint of glowing eyes. ”Says who? You? I thought this was me being all weird and twisted and wanting to ’test’ myself for some reason, so don’t I get to do it anyway I want?” The cards were spinning faster and faster through her fingers as she finished shuffling the deck, then let them flow rapidly from one hand to the other. ”Hey, wanna see a magic trick?”

”No! You need to…”

”Aw, I’ll show you anyway, it’ll be fun.” She flipped a card over. ”The Knight of Swords, right.” A dark, amorphous shape swelled out of the card, gradually becoming solid and shaping itself into a tall male figure in heavy armour. ”The dark knight, powerful but hollow. Brave, but destructive. Dangerous, but to himself as much as to other people. Ruled by anger and fear. Gee, does that sound like somebody we know or does it sound like somebody we know?”

”This is not about me, Little Sister. This is about you, and you refusing the power that might save your miserable soul.”

”No, you’re wrong, Sarry. This is about both of us. You were right, we are connected, I’ve known that for a while now. I’ve felt you close, even when you were long dead. You helped me when I was lost in the darkness. I’m grateful for that, and I need you, sure, but you need me too. What we don’t need is to follow some script made up by our sire. Ok, let’s see what we’ve got next. Magic trick, remember?” She flipped a second card over, and this time the shape that leapt out of it was a slender figure in a jester’s motley, blithely dancing along the edge of a steep precipice. ”The Fool, or The Jester. He’s chaos and freedom, adventure and danger.”

”He’s also about to fall off a cliff,” Sarevok growled. 

”Maybe. Or maybe, just maybe, he’ll fly. Or maybe there is a path to walk that only he can see, made up of moonbeams and spiderwebs.” She grinned at the scowling man in front of her. ”I can’t see my path clearly, brother. But I’m pretty sure it’s there, and I’d rather follow it than walk down yours.”

”If you fall, it will be your own damned fault. I won’t catch you.”

”Wasn’t planning to.” She gathered the cards again, and once more let them flow through her fingers. ”Look. I don’t know if this is really you, or your ghost, or just a version of you that my head has conjured up while I’m knocked out on some treebranch in Suldanesselar. But just in case it really is you, I’m gonna make you an offer, like I did once before. We don’t have to fight each other over and over until the end of time. We don’t have to kill each other, again and again. It doesn’t have to end like that. Maybe this time around, when I walk onto that moonbeam, you’ll be able to walk along it with me. Just…think about it, ok?”

”I…” Sarevok said, hesitating. There was an uncertainty in that deep and rumbling voice which hadn’t been present before. ”You are confusing the issue, sister!”

”I know,” Rini admitted, giving him a quick grin. ”That’s what I do best. But I _am_ telling you the truth.” She stepped closer, ignoring the sharp spikes, and the sword which could easily cleave her in two. The sword wasn’t the real danger here, she knew that much. _The danger is in me, in what I choose. In this place, it’s all about what I do. This was never meant to be settled with swords._ ”Oh, Big Brother. Always so serious. Come on, give me a smile, I’m pretty sure it won’t kill you.” She was running on pure impulse, making her choices from one moment to another, going with the sense of rightness inside. This was what had to be, what needed to be done, and thinking about it wouldn’t help at all. Putting all second thoughts out of her head, she reached up on tiptoe, her hand on her brother’s shoulder for support and let her lips lightly brush against what part of his cheek she could reach inside the obscuring helmet. He stood very still, not trying to push her away, and when she stepped back again he raised his hand to touch his face, a look of blank puzzlement in his eyes. He may not have been exactly smiling, but he wasn’t scowling either, not anymore.

”I…need to think about this,” Sarevok said, and his voice was rough with some strong emotion she couldn’t quite identify. 

”Fair enough,” She said, nodding. ”Are we done then?”

”We are, Little Sister,” The shade of her brother told her, pressing something into her open hand. She didn’t need to look at it to know that it was the final Tear of Bhaal. ”For now. But know that things are not yet over between us.” Shadows rose up around him, enveloping him and obscuring him, and then he was gone, as if he’d never been there. 

_I know that_ , Zaerini thought. _And I’m glad, Big Brother. She was unable to suppress a small giggle. Really glad._

-*-

Jon Irenicus walked the Abyss with ease, cloaked in the protective shields of his magic. Dead he might be, but not yet quite lost. Trying to reason his way through what must have happened, he’d come to the conclusion that his link to the Bhaalspawn was still sustaining him, even beyond death. He could feel her somewhere out there, tugging and pulling at him. At first she had seemed far away, but she felt closer now, her presence stronger. 

She will come to me. She has no choice if she wishes to escape this place. 

There would be a confrontation, of course. This time, he would not let himself be tricked as he had been before. He had walked the dark passages of this place, and his power had steadily grown as he met challenge after challenge, destroying all who would oppose him. His was the mind of an archmage, well equipped to harness and direct the raw power of Bhaal, far more so than this…immature child. 

_I will wield it as it should be wielded, as it deserves to be wielded._

It was not the power of the Tree of Life, it would not grant him the access to the Seldarine that he craved, but it was a start, and he’d have to be a fool to pass up the opportunity. Only one tiny obstable remained. He hadn’t drained the full measure of the half-elf’s soul, not quite. He would need to do so in order to revive himself, and he would need to do it soon, before it was too late. His own body was almost certainly too badly damaged to be saved, and if not, then Ellesime’s soldiers would soon see to it. The would be saviour of the city though, now that was a different story. Once he had defeated her in this place, she would be destroyed for good, and he would have a young, healthy, and empty body waiting for his own spirit to inhabit it. As long as her companions were also destroyed, there would be nobody to challenge him once he awakened. He would be able to walk freely through Suldanesselar, perhaps even to confront Ellesime once more. A…pleasant thought, to imagine the shock and horror upon her face. Yes, perhaps he would do that. Or perhaps he would retreat, build up his powerbase and wait, then strike at some later time. The new body would be nothing like his old one, he would certainly have preferred a full elf given the choice, but it was his best option right now. Perhaps he’d be able to find a way to replace it in time. Perhaps he would not slay Ellesime after all. Perhaps he might make her grovel instead. Or perhaps, just perhaps…

_One step at a time. First, you must acquire it._

He wiped some blood off his hands, a vulgar reminder of the last of these mindless little ’tests’ placed before him by this place, and he approached a tall door standing in the middle of nowhere. As he placed his hand on it, it felt warm to his touch. She was coming, closer and closer. 

_I will take no chances this time. No delays, nothing but a direct and precise attack, launched as soon as that door opens._

He had attempted to open it himself, in order to go through to her side and take her down before she could make her move, but he’d found that there was a second door behind the one he could open. This second door was utterly smooth, with no lock and no handle. There was no way to open it, with or without his magic, not from his side. No, he would have to wait. That was not a problem however, he was good at waiting. 

_I waited for you a long time, Ellesime. I will enjoy seeing you again, through new eyes._

At last, movement. The tall, heavy door was starting to swing open, and though he could not yet see his donor he knew she was close. 

_Ellesime. I am coming. This is not the end._

Jon Irenicus walked through the door, towards destiny. 

-*-

Zaerini had thought she had been prepared for facing Jon Irenicus once again. She had thought she’d known what to expect as she pressed the last Tear of Bhaal into place and the portal to a different part of the Abyss slowly opened. Nothing could have prepared her for the creature which emerged however. At first glance, it resembled the Irenicus she’d known before, a tall man with a strong aura of powerful magic around him. Then she looked upon his face, and took an involuntary step back. The bright blue eyes, as cold and clear as chips of ice, were still recognizable. But the smooth mask, the illusion of a youthful face, was gone. The face underneath it was that of an ancient corpse, something which should have been long in the grave. Blue, lidless eyes turned towards her, fixating upon her. Yellow and broken teeth moved along with creaking jawbones as a mouth without lips opened in what she thought might have been a triumphant smile, and little flakes of mummified skin dropped off the skull underneath. 

_Not dead. It would have been better if he’d actually been undead. But he was alive, all along. Like that._

Zaerini sucked in breath sharply, vaguely aware of similar reactions of shock from her friends. Of course she’d guessed that whatever her nemesis was hiding under that mask couldn’t be pretty, but guessing was one thing, and seeing quite another. She’d half expected her foe to launch into some monologue about his intentions to destroy her, but as she felt his power swiftly gathering she knew she’d been mistaken. This time, Irenicus wouldn’t be attempting to toy with her, or waste his time with speeches. This time, he’d be going for the throat, and he’d at least be trying to not underestimate her. From the sensation of the magical currents in the air, she thought he was successful at that. Irenicus had been an immensely powerful archmage before, but now he was something more than that. He had…evolved.

_Then again, so have I._

She’d felt it happening as she let the Tears of Bhaal slip into their appointed places, felt small but intricate changes taking place inside of her. She didn’t know exactly what they were, or how she might use them, but she knew they were important. 

_Let’s dance then, Irenicus. One last time._

There was no more time to think, no more time to plan. Irenicus’ first spell was already launched, and though the protective magic she had in place deflected it harmlessly, it was followed by another, and another. The archmage swiftly brought his hands together, and a dark red light flared between them, coalescing into a tall, humanoid shape. Wings as black as night spread out from muscular shoulders, and cold eyes looked upon her from a beautiful but cruel face. Then the creature was attacking, wielding a long sword which shone with a deadly aura it charged towards her, and was intercepted by Minsc. With a furious battlecry the large ranger placed himself between her and the conjured planar creature, pitting muscle and bravery against inhuman skill and strength. Anomen was at his side, desperately channeling healing magic, but the monstrosity was fast, too fast, and Minsc was already bleeding from several wounds. 

”A planetar,” Edwin said, his voice sharp with worry. ”I cannot match that.” Hearing her lover admit that there was something, anything, he couldn’t yet conjure up, was a chilling and very terrifying thing indeed. 

”Hey, Rotface!” Imoen shouted. ”Over here!”

Irenicus turned, raising his hands again, and that gave Rini the opening she wanted. Choosing sword over sorcery this time, she launched herself at her foe. Speed would be needed, and speed was what she had, courtesy of one of Edwin’s spells. Her blade moving almost too fast to be seen, she got inside Irenicus’ guard, managing to cut through the outer layers of his shields. New ones soon flared up again though, leaving him but lightly wounded, and a strong surge of magical energy flung her back, until she struck a tall and spiraling pillar. Pain exploded along her back, then turned into numbness, and for a few horrible, agonizing seconds, she couldn’t move her legs at all. Little white stars spun in front of her eyes, obscuring her vision. 

”Up!” Jaheira’s voice tersely said next to her ear, and then the druid was dragging her to her feet, even as healing magic surged through her. Pain returned, but pain was the price for sensation and movement. Desperately, she looked around for her other friends. Minsc was still facing off against the terrible planetar, and had actually seemed to bloody it. Unfortunately he was also quite clearly hurt, despite Anomen’s best efforts. The cleric was alternating his healing magic with aiding in attacking the creature, and together they were just barely keeping up with it, but they’d be unlikely to be able to aid against Irenicus himself. 

”Silvanus, aid your servant,” Jaheira said in a low voice. ”Grant me the strength I need.” She cupped her hands together, and something appeared between them. It looked like a small, green nut, and as she threw it onto the ground it started growing, glowing more and more brightly as it grew. Now it was a large mass of vines and leaves, and it was still growing, forming itself into a large and vaguely humanoid shape which lurched forwards towards Irenicus with a loud and somehow moist roar. It forced the mage to retreat a little, and as he did so there came a sudden cry of pain. Rini grinned as she saw the dark blood running down her foe’s leg, and that he was now limping. Imoen had hoped he’d step into her traps as soon as he came through the portal, but better late than never. 

Edwin, meanwhile, was chipping away at Irenicus’ protective layers of spells, stripping them away as soon as the man could recast them. Of course, Irenicus was attempting exactly the same, and the Red Wizard’s frustration was evident from the snarl which had creeped into his voice and which was clearly audible as he was casting. 

_So let’s see what I can do to help._

She leapt forward again, followed by Jaheira. Irenicus, preoccupied as he was with incinerating the shambling plant creature, didn’t have the time to block them before they were upon him. This time she could feel her sword biting properly into flesh, but it still wasn’t enough to bring her foe down. Whatever damage she did seemed to be gradually nullified, as if his flesh was regrowing itself. Jaheira was also pressing the wizard hard, and there was a sharp sizzle and the smell of smoked meat as several burning projectiles from Edwin embedded themselves in Irenicus chest. Imoen had opted for archery, firing arrows whenever she could do so without risking one of her allies. Slowly, painfully slowly, Irenicus was weakening. 

”No!” The wizard cried out, and again there was a surge of magic so powerful that she almost lost her breath. She was thrown away from him once more, as was Jaheira. This time though, the forcewave was followed by the thunderous roar of multiple flaming meteors hitting the ground. One of them struck Rini on the shoulder, and she was unable to keep back a cry of pain. She could still move her arm, just barely, so it probably wasn’t broken, but she definitely couldn’t use her sword and she had to roll herself onto the ground to put the fire out. As she dared a quick glance around, she saw that Edwin was on the ground, unconscious. 

_Just unconscious. Please gods, please let him just be unconscious._

Jaheira had taken more than one hit from the meteors, and was clearly wounded, with blood smeared across half of her face and a portion of her hair burnt off where it had been sticking out of her helmet. She was still on her feet, and grappling with Irenicus, forcing the wizard to focus on protecting himself rather than attacking. She wasn’t moving with her normal swift grace though, and it could only be a matter of time before she went down.   
Discarding the currently useless sword, Rini focused on magic instead. Her spells couldn’t match Edwin’s, but anything at all was better than nothing. A quick spell of breaching first, to slice through the new shield Irenicus had slipped into place, and then a swarm of Magic Missiles. 

_Good old Magic Missiles. Work against anything, from kobolds to rabid wizards, if you do things right._

The little balls of pure magical energy struck true, ripping rotting flesh apart and splintering ancient bone. Irenicus cried out, a wordless cry of pain and rage. He turned to face her, half of that terrible face simply…missing. She could see inside, all the little hollows and crevices, displayed to the unforgiving light in cruel detail. 

_Funny, I never would have guessed your nose goes that far back inside your head,_ Rini thought with that odd calm which lay far beyond the other side of fear. 

”Enough!” Irenicus’ voice was almost impossible to comprehend now, a rasping gargle deep in his throat, brought forward by a tongue resembling a slab of very old meat. ”I…will…have it!”

_It’s my soul he wants_ , Rini thought even as she dodged a wall of flame which roared towards her. _He won’t stop for anything, he wants it that badly._ The wizard seemed to be laughing now, a low chuckle which sounded very demented and far from the icy cold demeanor she’d seen from him in the past. Something was happening to him, he seemed to be growing larger, bulkier and darker, muscles twisting and changing. He screamed again as spikes burst out of his back, dripping with dark blood. 

_Not just any spikes either. I think that’s his spine. Ew._

Irenicus didn’t look even remotely elven by now, or even humanoid. A monstrosity of sharp teeth and long claws stood before her, taller and broader than even Sarevok had been, and it turned a large orange eye towards her, its gaze filled with endless hunger. This was the Slayer, Irenicus’s version of it, and it was coming for her.

With a cry of her own, Jaheira twisted her scimitar deep inside the Slayer’s side, her bloodslicked hand nearly losing its grip on the hilt. The Slayer roared, then swatted the druid aside with a clawed paw, and this time she didn’t get up again. The planetar was still pressing Minsc and Anomen hard, making it impossible for them to aid. Imoen was still stubbornly shooting at the Slayer, and most of her arrows hit their mark but though they drew blood the monster didn’t seem to care much. It was still coming for Zaerini, ignoring her friends now, and though it was limping and bleeding it was coming fast. If she was going to stop it, she’d have to stop it alone. 

_How? Can’t use my arm properly. Don’t have magic enough to kill it?_

It was upon her now, claws biting into her shoulders as it seized her and pulled her into the air, making her wince with the sharp pain. So, this was the end. She hadn’t thought it would end like this, not now, not here. She stared into that one burning eye, holding her breath, but the slavering jaws didn’t crush her like she had expected. Instead, she felt something deep inside, a tugging. It was as if there was a thread of light inside of her, rapidly being spun out, pulled forcibly out of her. Her soul, it had to be. Or whatever remained of it. She tried to pull it back, but the tug was too strong, impossible to resist. She’d lost already, and she knew it. 

_But if I’ve lost, I can at least pay him back a bit._

”Bastard,” She groaned, barely able to speak. ”Want to feel things, do you? Want emotions? Feel…THIS!”

She stopped pulling, stopped holding back, and instead she pushed, forcing as much of herself as she could into her enemy, a sword of raw emotion. Memories, sensations, all bundled together. Everything, remembered and buried, everything Irenicus had ever done to her, everything those actions had made her feel. The chains, the needles, the sharp knives, the agony of body and soul. The loss of self, the loss of life, the loss of friends. The agony in Imoen’s eyes, and in Jaheira’s. Grief, rage, shame. All the nameless dead as well, the ones experimented upon, the burning elves of Suldanesselar, dead for his pride and ambition. Her bard’s instincts were spinning their stories out, aided by the details and knowledge gathered by her friends’ vision of the elven city’s past. She was imbuing those stories with emotions as well. Pain was followed by love, warm and joyous, love for friends and family, and for the love of her life. She made her foe feel it, forced him to experience it all, everything that she was, everything he had done, over and over again, in merciless detail. 

The Slayer screamed, and screamed again, and she understood now, knew what was happening. 

_This is my Sire’s realm. I have tested myself, and I have learnt how to direct it, at least a little bit. I can do this, better than he can, forcing him to feel what I feel. He can’t handle what he tried to take from me, he’s forgotten too much of what he once was. I won’t let him have what’s mine._

She stopped pushing, and suddenly pulled instead, yanking the entirety of the shining thread back inside herself, letting it coil neatly inside, where it belonged. A sense of rightness was filling her, a sensation she’d almost forgotten. The Slayer sighed, the light in its one eye dimming, and it slowly slumped to the ground, unmoving. Rini closed her eyes, not caring that she was in fact lying on top of the unmoving body of her enemy. She was feeling tired, so very tired, and aching all over. Probably bleeding from several injuries as well. 

_Got to get up soon. Got to help the others. Got to…_

The darkness of the Abyss closed in around her, and awareness dissolved into nothing.


	184. Epilogue

**Cards Reshuffled – Epilogue**

_Happy Ending, I thought. I was wrong. There was happiness, but Irenicus was very far from the ending, and I was about to find that out._

_Excerpt from ’Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

”And so, it is with great pleasure that I present to you all, the Heroes of Suldanesselar!” High Priestess Demin spread her arms out in a deep bow, and there was a thunder of applause, cheers and catcalls from the large gathering of elves. 

”Smile, Eddie,” Zaerini whispered, giving her lover a fond smile of her own. ”They’re being polite. Besides, after all those other towns, how much worse could one more make it?”

”That’s what you think,” The wizard muttered, with a disapproving glare at the bouquet of pink roses pressed into his arms by a tiny, gaptoothed elven girl. ”Do not doubt for one second that they will all be tallied up eventually, and then there will be…commentary. Possibly offers to buy me a white charger and armour.”

”Oh, come now,” Rini said, dodging an excited elven ranger who tried to give her a hug. The elf was sent tumbling into Minsc’s arms instead, and his wishes were granted, if not in the exact manner he’d hoped for. ”I’m sure your father wouldn’t make fun of you – that much.” She felt her lips twitching involuntarily. ”Speaking of which, any news from him yet?”

”None,” Edwin said, and his voice sounded even more grim than before. His hand crept towards his throat, touching the amulet hanging there. Rini wasn’t sure if he was even aware of it. ”Not a word.”

”Well, we’ve not exactly been easy to get in touch with either.” She wrapped her arm around his waist, hugging him tightly. ”Lots of things going on. I’m sure we’ll hear word from him soon.”

_And once we do, we’ll have a few news of our own to share. So much has happened, it’ll be hard to know where to start…_

-*-  
There was sunlight warming her face when she woke up, and she wasn’t hurting at all. For some reason, she was sure she ought to be hurting. Carefully stretching her limbs, she didn’t open her eyes just yet, but simply enjoyed the sensation of being safe, and warm. As she did so, her fingers connected with soft fur, and there was a happy squeal which startled her eyes awake. Then something landed on her chest with a faint thump, and a pair of green eyes stared into her own as a nose batted eagerly at her. 

_Kitten! You’re awake! I thought you’d sleep forever. The others all woke up hours ago._

_Softy? What…_ She reached out her hand to stroke her familiar, and the memories came flooding back. _The Tree of Life. Irenicus. The Abyss. He’s really dead now. Gone for good._

_Yes_ , The cat readily agreed. _Well hunted. It was close though, when he fell down you all did as well. Then you started looking hurt, there was blood on you. Some of the two-legs who live in these trees came and thought you were dead. They meant to eat you or something._

_EAT us?_

_Or burn you. Something strange that they do to dead people. We didn’t let them._

_Good. By ’we’, I guess you mean Insufferable and you? You didn’t harm them too badly I hope?_

_No_ , the cat replied, and she sounded very smug indeed. _Just enough. It took some time, most two-legs are very slow, not at all like us cats, but they finally understood that you were only a bit dead and not completely dead. Then they brought you here, but they couldn’t wake you up and their magic didn’t work properly on you. I tried telling them it was because you weren’t finished hunting yet but they didn’t listen properly._ Softpaws settled herself onto Rini’s chest, nudging her head underneath the half-elf’s chin, and purred. _But now you’re awake, so all is well._

_I…guess it is._ She felt good. Comfortable, yes. Safe and warm, yes. But it was more than that, an inner sense of peace and contentment which had been missing for so long. A warm glow that lit her from inside. _My soul._ She smiled broadly. _Back where it belongs, at last._ Something else which Softpaws had said came back to her. _You said the others are all awake? I need to see them, all of them. But first…_

Before she could finish that thought, the door opened with a bang, there was a flurry of movement, and then she finally found herself scooped up and held closely, the arms of her lover tight and warm around her. For once, Edwin said nothing at all, but he didn’t really need to, and neither did she. Being there was quite enough. 

_Way ahead of you, Kitten_ , her familiar proudly stated. _I told Insufferable as soon as you woke up that you were fit for company. Try not to break the bed, it’s a good one and the bit at the left side where the sun comes in is mine._

-*-

”It is done. They are both safe, safe and whole.” Jaheira let out a long, slow sigh, leaning her elbows on the wooden railing surrounding the balcony of the house where she’d been given quarters. It was a beautiful night, with a large full moon hanging low over the treetops of Suldanesselar, shining silver against the purple sky of summer twilight. 

”They are,” Anomen agreed, moving up to stand beside her. She didn’t turn to look at him, but she suddenly felt very aware of his presence, every slight movement, every shift in his voice. ”Both of them have their souls back, safe and sound. And what of you, Jaheira? Are you whole again?”

The question made her fall silent for a moment and she looked up at the moon, taking comfort in the soft evening breeze against her skin. _Peace. I had nearly forgotten what it felt like. I may heal now._ ”I will always love my Khalid,” She said. ”But…yes. Irenicus is gone, forever. The girls are safe. More than safe, they are strong and capable. Gorion would have been very proud of them both.”

”And of you as well, I dare say,” Anomen said, and he took her hand, his skin warm against her own. ”They would not have come this far without you, and they both care deeply for you. As do I – in a different manner.”

Now she did turn. She had to face him, had to look upon his earnest face. There was a look in his eyes, gentle yet so full of strength. He was smiling, and she felt herself return that smile with a smile of her own. A warm smile, a secret smile. Not the particular one she’d kept for Khalid, no, but one which was just as intimate. _It won’t be the same. But it will be equally special. Winter is over, and spring come again._

Her feelings had been growing for quite some time, even before she’d realized what was happening. They had grown close, confiding in each other at first, then reached the point where they might share the odd kiss and still she hadn’t been ready. Irenicus, and Khalid, had stood between them. No more. 

”You are a patient man, Anomen,” She said, and she heard a slight tremble in her voice. ”I have asked much of you.”

”Nothing I did not gladly give,” He replied, and he squeezed her hand a little more tightly. ”Jaheira. I know it is soon, perhaps too soon. And I fear I am woefully ill prepared, my words and manners not nearly courtly enough to give you all that you deserve from me. All the same, my heart is full to bursting and will no longer be contained. I love you, and cherish you, with all my soul. Will you, at the time of your choosing, make me the happiest man alive and consent to become my wife?” 

”Yes,” Jaheira said, and the look on her face at that moment was one Khalid would have recognized very well. ”I love you as well, my Anomen. And the time of my choosing will be very soon indeed, for I could not bear to make you wait a moment longer than necessary.” 

With that, she stepped into his arms, her lips meeting his. There was warmth, there was love, and there was joy. As they broke apart for air she laughed, a light, carefree laughter which made Anomen smile with delight. 

”You are happy,” He said, a statement not a question. ”It is a beautiful thing to see.”

”Yes,” Jaheira said, taking one of his hands between both of her own. ”Yes. I am happy.”

They walked into her chambers, side by side, and that night, for the first time in a very long while, she did not spare even a single thought for Jon Irenicus. 

-*-

Imoen was enjoying herself exploring nighttime Suldanesselar. She’d always liked wandering around, finding hidden places and shortcuts, ever since she was a child living in Candlekeep. That old keep had so many interesting rooms, some of them forgotten by just about everybody, and places you could get to only by climbing or crawling. Sometimes Rini came along with her, but sometimes she went on her own. Either was fun, but she was better at hiding than her sister was, so when she went alone she could manage to overhear all sorts of interesting things and get into places she really wasn’t supposed to go. 

Suldanesselar was just as interesting as Candlekeep, in its own way. It looked superficially different, with twisting branches and glistening marble rather than stern grey walls and narrow windows, but the hidden places were still there if you knew how to look for them. Imoen had gone through the palace already, taking particular interest in those parts of it she’d seen the last time she was here, and now she was exploring the gardens surrounding it. There were guards here and there, but she avoided them easily and headed towards a smaller building with a domed pink roof. 

_Just a little peek inside, and then I think I’ll go back. Getting a bit hungry._

That was one unexpectedly nice thing about having her soul back. She got properly hungry and tired again, not like before when it had all been swallowed up by the greyness around her. Now she’d eat and sleep and feel just fine again. Odd how she’d forgotten that, really. 

As she entered the pink building she found a round pool, with water bubbling out of a fointain shaped like a dolphin. _Kind of weird in a city up in the trees. But I guess it’d look even more weird if it was a squirrel spurting water._ There were statues lining the wall, tall marble statues of very serious elves, all of them wearing either full armour or long robes. _Kings and Queens? Or was Ellesime the first Queen of this place? Jaheira probably knows._

She walked closer to admire the nearest statue, portraying an elven woman with hair reaching all the way down to her butt, while contemplating how the woman would manage sitting down. A sound at the door made her startle, and she reflexively darted behind the statue, crouching down behind its base to get out of sight. True, it might be possible to explain what she was doing here, but then again the person at the door might be the grumpy sort who’d want to preach at her. Besides, a rogue could always use more practice hiding. Imoen nodded to herself and crouched even lower, making sure not to breathe too loudly. 

There was a rustling sound of cloth, and she could see the hem of a white dress sweep past her. Soft footsteps headed towards the pool, and then she heard a familiar voice. 

”Sire, I have heard your call,” Queen Ellesime said. It was definitely her, but she sounded different than Imoen had ever heard her. A bit apprehensive, even. 

Light flooded the room, but Imoen couldn’t see where it was coming from. Not the door, it was definitely closed, and there were no windows. It was simply there, making the sprays of water from the fountain shine with all the colours of the rainbow. Then there was something else, a shape within the light. She couldn’t make it out properly, the light was too strong for her to look straight at it, but she thought it looked more or less like an elf.

”Ellesime,” A voice said from within the light. 

”Sire, the Exile is dead,” Ellesime said, bowing. ”Your city is safe.”

”I know that, daughter. The Children of Bhaal and their companions would seem to have triumphed, for now. That is not why I am here. I am concerned with the past, and its implications for the future, not with the present.”

”The past, Sire?”

”Yes, Ellesime. The past. At the time of the Exile’s first crime against this city, you made a petition to the Seldarine. I supported that petition, and it was granted, severing him from the elven spirit forever.”

”It was my right to do so,” Ellesime hastened to say. ”His crimes were…atrocious!”

”They were, and you were within your rights as Queen to mete out punishment. It was a harsh one, but I did not question that, for as you say, his crimes were dire.” The voice from within the light grew more stern, taking on a sharper edge. ”It is the place of the Queen to mete out punishment, but it is also the place of the Queen to protect her people. Why did you let him run wild, Ellesime? You knew he was still dangerous. Why did you let him live to threaten your people again? Do you even begin to guess how much harm he had time to do before his death?”

”I…feel I am perhaps partially responsible, but…”

”Partially responsible,” The voice said, making Imoen wince. Gorion would sound like that sometimes, when she’d done something particularly stupid. ”Are you not Queen? You do not have the luxury of being ’partially responsible’.”

”I loved him once,” Ellesime said, her voice now sounding choked. ”I could not bear to…I hoped he might regret…”

”Ellesime,” The voice said, and it sounded even more ominous now. ”Do not lie to Me. Tell Me the truth. You might have tried telling yourself otherwise, but you knew very well that in that condition he would not regret anything. The truth. Now.”

”I wanted him to hurt!” Ellesime cried out. Imoen couldn’t see her face from her position on the floor, but she thought the elf might be weeping. ”I wanted him to hurt just as much as he had hurt me, or even more! Is that so strange? Is that so unnatural?”

There was a brief silence. 

”No, it is not so strange,” The voice said from within the light, and it was softer now. ”But tell Me this, daughter. Is it how a Queen should act?”

”I…I am your daughter, Sire. The Tree hears me and allows me to direct it.”

”Yes, Ellesime. Such is your birthright, and you need not remind Me of it. Do you need reminding that I charged you with guarding and protecting your people? Instead, you risked them all on a whim, for the sake of satisfying your wounded pride. There is also the matter of the Bhaalspawn.”

”I don’t understand, Sire. They did come to harm, true, and I may wish that hadn’t happened but they are not of the People. Why does it concern you?”

”Because, daughter, those not of the People have gods of their own.” The voice from within the beautiful light sounded positively scalding now. ”You have caused Me considerable embarrassment, and you should consider yourself lucky that I have managed to smooth things over. I will not have a repeat of this.”

”You are removing me as Queen,” Ellesime said, and she sounded so heartbroken that Imoen couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. Then she remembered the knives, and the spells slicing through her brain, and she didn’t feel quite as sorry anymore.

”Not exactly. You will remain Queen, but as I have clearly failed to teach you certain important things, I must do so now. You will be absent for some time, during which My High Priestess will govern in your stead. Once you return, you will hopefully know how to carry out your duties.”

”I am to be shamed, then?” Ellesime said, sounding angry now rather than contrite.

”Your people will be informed you are on a pilgrimage,” the voice sounded from within the light. It was stronger even than before, almost overpoweringly so. ”Depending on how fast you learn what you must, you may return before they question that.” The light was dazzling now, so blinding that Imoen had to close her eyes. When she did open them again, Ellesime was gone, and so was the figure she had seen within the light. She carefully crept out of her hidingplace, and was nearly out the door before she heard the voice right next to her ear. 

”Be careful about eavesdropping on the Gods, little one,” It said, making Imoen squeal and spin around. There was nobody to be seen, but she could feel a presence next to her. ”You may tell your sister of what has transpired here, but I would like her to keep it to herself. Some things should remain in the family.”

”Um, yessir,” Imoen said, bobbing a quick curtsey. ”I’ll make her promise. Not a word. Or song. Or limerick. Or one of those weird poems where all words start with the same letter. Or…”

The feeling of somebody peeking over her shoulder evaporated, and Imoen knew that the god had gone off to wherever it is gods go when they’re not talking to mortals. 

_Heh_ , She thought to herself with a small grin. _I was right, this place really is as interesting as Candlekeep._

-*-

Minsc was happy. The Very Evil Wizard was dead, his Witch and his friends were all safe and happy, and there were friendly elves around who wanted to give Boo treats. The large ranger gently ran a finger along the hamster’s back, thinking about what Boo had told him earlier. Soon, big and important things would be happening. Minsc didn’t know what kind of big and important things they were, but it meant his sword wouldn’t get rusty and Boo wouldn’t get fat. All was well with the world. 

-*-

On the night after the Hero’s Celebration, and after an hour of her lover tossing and turning next to her, Zaerini finally had enough. It was bad enough he was stealing the covers, but the frustrated sighing was really getting to her. At first she’d thought it was just the award ceremony still annoying him, but now she thought it must be more than that. 

”Come on, Eddie,” She whispered, reaching out to slide her hand across his chest, and then quickly snatched the blankets back. ”It’s not that bad is it? I know you’re worried, but he _will_ get in touch as soon as he can, you know that.”

”How did you know what I was thinking of?” Edwin said, sounding vaguely insulted.

”Duh. I recognize the symptoms, you know.” She snuggled a little closer into his side, and was pleased to feel his arms folding around her as she rested her head on his shoulder. ”I know how you feel. And now we’re healed up, you and I can start looking into things, and see if we can help out somehow.”

Edwin sighed again, a sound filled with both worry and annoyance. ”I wish he wouldn’t keep doing things like this, I really do. I know he had to go after Mother, of course, but I worry that he won’t take appropriate precautions. He can be dangerously singleminded when he decides it is important enough.”

”Uh huh,” Rini said, forcing herself not to smile even a little. ”Good thing you’re not even remotely like that, isn’t it?”

Another sigh, and now Edwin was fiddling with his amulet again. It was a bit difficult to see in the darkness of their bedchamber, but she could make out the red glow of it. ”I wish this thing would allow some direct communication, instead of merely letting me know he is still alive. It is frustrating beyond measure!”

”Well if it did, I definitely wouldn’t want you wearing it when we’re in bed! You know I’m fond of him, but I don’t want him or your mother dropping in on us at such a time.”

”Ugh. What a perfectly horrible thought. (I shan’t sleep all night now, I’m certain.)”

It was at that precise moment that the glow of the amulet winked out. The jewel turned dark and icy cold, and all thoughts of sleep were entirely forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus concludes Cards Reshuffled. Zaerini and her friends will return in the final part of the Bhaalspawn saga, Throne of Cards. Thank you for reading, and may you enjoy what is yet to come!


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